Part III
Copyright 2003 by Elizabeth Delayne
The early morning light shimmered into the mirror as Lila sat at her dressing table and ran a brush through her hair. She smiled a little as she remembered her mother, sitting before a mirror brushing their hair, talking and laughing and smiling—a time when she knew only joy.
“Your thoughts are heavy this morning, my lady,” Ashton said as she brought in Lila’s dress and ribbons. As usual Ashton was up and ready for the day, her hair already pinned neatly on the crown of her head.
“You’ve been … cloud-walking as my mother would say. Will you miss your Alex so much when he leaves today?”
Lila set down her brush and studied herself in the mirror. If her mother was here now, what would she say?
“I shall miss him, but I wasn’t thinking of him. It’s odd," she said and reached down to run her hand over the silver brush that had once been her mother's. "I think there have only been a few moments that he has not been on my mind since he came to me at the ball. Has it only been two nights? It feels like ... so much longer.”
"Your worried he will not come back or with what brought him here in the first place—Lord Fowler?”
“No … I was thinking of my parents. My mother.” Lila turned to slip into the dress Ashton offered. “I wish I could share this with my mamma. She would have been happy with me—or I want to believe she would. Alex is not of the court and she was a royal. So maybe she wouldn’t have approved.”
“Does it matter?”
“As it's not something that changes things, no. If she was here, I would want her approval. It would have hurt if she did not to give it, to know that the rules and manners of royal society are more important than matters of the heart. She loved my father. She could have understood my love for Alex.”
She held a hand to her heart and took a deep breath and tried very hard to remember the way her father would look at her mother, his eyes dancing with light and love. The image was gone, only the thought remained—and it broke her heart.
“Lord Fowler took them away from me …” she said, and dabbed at the sudden tears, “and yet, Alex came to protect me from him … it does not matter that he is merely a knight … he is quite a knight.”
“Yes he is, my lady.”
“And I won't be sad. I won't let anything take this day we have away from us.”
When Ashton left the room, she lifted a post she had received from Sara and unfolded it from its seal again. Her friend would come within the week as she had promised. Lila looked forward for what would be a needed diversion.
“My lady,” Ashton said when she entered the room again. “You have a caller.”
“I caller? Whom could it be?”
“The man introduced himself at the gate as Lord Gallwater. He says his father was a comrade with your father and that they saw you at the ball,” Ashton answered. “Your uncle had a clear purpose for sending you that night. He must have known or hoped that following of suitors would come hither.”
Lila had known only a few men in her life. Her uncle and her father were both strong, gallant men of honor and character. It seemed hard to trust a man who would come only after spotting her at a ball, a man who had not introduced himself when before the crowd.
And knowing Alex, knowing that he was leaving before the noon sun rose in the sky, she was very reluctant to waste the time they had before he departed for London.
She met the man formally in the front open hall of the castle doors. With Ashton acting as chaperone standing near the side door, and servants milling around, she still left several arms length of space between herself and the stranger.
He had Scottish blood. His hair was flaming red, his dress formal, extravagant, and his stature tall and thin. He was not a man of labor as was Alex. Nor did his eyes have a vibrant strength.
“Lord Gallwater,” she spoke formally, her hands folded in front of her as she relied on conventional custom. “I welcome you to castle Billingdor under the charity of my father and into the home of my uncle. What may I do for you?”
“Lady Lila, you are as beautiful now as I remembered. I came eagerly. Seeing you at the ball was … you were a glorious flower. You have bloomed, Lady Lila,” he held out a hand to bid her come forward, but she only shook her head.
“I am very sorry for the trouble you have obviously gone to for me in traveling this way. I have grown and I am in my uncle’s care,” she stated. “If you've come for my attentions, another has already asked permission from my uncle and I have given my own blessing.”
Lord Gallwater only lifted an eyebrow. He was a man, Lila thought, of conceit.
“I have heard that a knight of the king’s chamber was within your halls.”
“As is his companion, Percy of Wentworth. They are both blessed friends of Billingdor and are welcome within these walls.”
“It was not Wentworth you danced with at the ball.”
“Neither did you offer me your hand for a dance, Lord Gallwater.”
“You were engaged in conversation and then disappeared so quickly. I hastened to follow—to speak with you today.”
“And I thank you for your … affections. However, mine are already and justly given. Will you take a meal, with my thanks, for your effort? I will make sure your horse receives the highest attention before you go on your way.”
Lord Gallwater crossed the distance she had intentionally kept between them. “Lady Lila of Arlington, surely you understand that an acceptance toward a knight of the kings chamber shows nothing of your station? You would find such better acceptance with a person of nobility.”
Lila lifted her chin and held her ground. “Such as you? I find your nobility to be tarnished. For a noble man would not ask after the hand of an engaged woman.”
“You are not engaged.”
“The blessing is on it’s way.”
“The blessing is here,” Alex stepped into the room, angry at the man who reached for Lila’s hand. He knew of him; he’d seen Lord Gallaway in London. He wasn’t known for keeping his promises and but as a man who lived with a swarm of ladies at his side. “Step away.”
Alex was quite a sight, Lila mused, feeling no fear. His hair was unbound, his eyes bright with controlled fury.
“You challenge me to a duel?”
Alex smirked. “I challenge you to nothing. You would be a fool to make such a dare to a knight of the kings chamber,” he said when the man clearly was opening his mouth to do such a thing. “I do not think the lady would want the death of either of us at her feet.”
“It would be up to the Lady.”
The man was a fool, Lila thought. “I do not, even though I have confidence that it would be yours. Under the circumstances your passing might be welcome if continue to insult the house of Arlington and Bilingdor.”
Lord Gallwater lifted his chin, fury in his eyes. “Nothing I could say could tarnish that which was forsaken.”
Alex drew his sword and pointed it to the door. “Step away. Your steed will make your travels fast to wherever you want to go beyond the walls of Billingdor. I would, as a knight of honor, ask for your apology. Under the circumstances, I doubt the lady would take it.”
“You make a mistake,” Lord Gallwater spat at Lila and strode away. The door in the outer chamber slammed, quaking through the castle halls.
She ran to Alex, shaking as his arms came around her. “We should marry quickly. Today? Is it possible to marry today?”
“Why so quickly?” he asked and held her at arms length, puzzled by the panic in her eyes. It clashed with the smile on her face. She had been so firm, so strong and so loyal when holding off Gallwater. It was odd to suddenly see weakness.
“You would want that, to marry quickly … wouldn’t you?”
“If I was sure that my position would not hamper your safety, but I should wonder why the suggestion comes from you,” he said and drew her close again when she started to back away. The panic was quickly turning to anger. “Beautiful Lilia, don’t let such words rush you. Let us savor these moments of pure love.”
“Do you have another in London?”
“Another what?”
“Woman.”
He set her back and put space between them and fought his own anger. “You send intentional daggers through my heart and I am ashamed for you. You are my only bright and shinning star, though millions dance at night in the sky."
He reached up and ran a gentle hand over her cheek. “Lila, beautiful Lila, even if your Uncle would let us marry so quickly, I fear it would not be wise. I don’t want you to regret a hasty betrothal.”
“Why wouldn’t my uncle allow us to marry? You are his friend and he pushed me to go to that ball for that very reason.”
“I was … now I am under consideration. It is a completely different matter to be betrothed to one's niece than to be honor bound friends.”
Lila sighed and rested her head on his chest, closing her eyes when his arms came around her. “It is fear,” she said at last, “that my own mother would have chosen Lord Gallwater over you, and that if things had gone differntly, she would have wrenched us a part.”
“My love,” he murmured and dropped a kiss on the top of her head.
“I shall miss you, Sir Alexander of Edinburough.”
“I will take you with me in my heart.”
With Alex and Percy’s departure, the castle returned to it’s normal life and yet, it did not seem as normal. Not to Lila. If she hadn't of had her plans for Sarah’s visit, she might have gone flamming mad.
She looked around the tower room that had been assembled for Sarah’s stay, a short two nights. The bed and sitting area were draped with silks from the Orient, scented herbs from the fields, and roses from her own garden … roses that reminded her of her time with Alex.
She'd watched him brush and prepare his horse Bartholomeuw as she held the horses haulter and prayed. Bring him back safe, she'd told the gallent horse. Don't you dare come back without him.
When the horse whinnied as if he understood, Lila kissed his warm nozzel with smiling lips.
“Lila,” Ashton stepped into the room and reminded Lila all over again that Alex was gone. “A carriage approaches.”
“Is the bath ready?”
“Yes, my lady?”
“And the meal? It is set and ready to be prepared?”
“Yes?”
“My uncle?”
“I would assume still asleep. He never pulls himself out of bed until it is time to leave for the forest. He would consider welcoming Percy and Alex his job—but your Sarah he will leave to you. Such is the way of all men.”
Lila nodded, then hurried down the winding steps to the front room, her dress hampering her decent and the heals of her shoes clamoring on the steps. She was just pulling open the outer doors when a carriage pulled to the stoop. It was an ornate creation; one Lila assumed justified the entourage of knights whom escorted their Lady.
“Sarah,” Lila welcomed and moved to greet her friend, holding out both hands. She wore a simple dress for the long dusty trip on the road, her hair pulled back and away from her face, her eyes troubled, probably weary from travel—and frightened, Lila assumed—of visiting the home of the Black Knight. Despite the number of people in her entourage, she was suddenly the friend Lila remembered from childhood. “I hope your journey was well?”
Sara reached out and clasped her hands as her eyes lightened with gentle laughter that was more like the Sara Lila knew. “Better than expected as William accompanied me through the morning. I am so glad that I could come.”
Ashton went through a mental checklist. It had been Sarah’s betrothed, William of Greenbourogh, who had sent both knights and a small group of infantry. They had not expected so many.
They were fairly easy to prepare for—on most occasions—but there was protocol involved with knights. They were not common soldiers equal to her station. Sir William’s knights were decorated and celebrated by the king for a victory against France. They would require more than the fireside camp of some and only slightly less than what was given to guests.
“The rooms are ready?” Lila asked, flying in to the room. She was a woman used to handling details, but not balancing her emotions. Ashton could see that her lady was nervous, unused to dealing with nobles.
Ashton took a deep breath. “I hope so, my lady. She had more servants with her than I anticipated.”
“I think more than Sara would like herself. She is learning the luxury that being the Lady of Greenbourogh will offer her. I must go, see to her needs myself. You will come if you need me.”
Ashton bowed her head in response than moved to hurry on. There were many things to do. She had just finished checking over the last room when she walked out the door and into a man, broad and tall.
She took a step back quickly and pressed a hand to her heart.
“If you would excuse me—“ the voice that greeted her outside the doorway was deep and rumbled. He was so much taller than she, holding his helmet under his arm, his face chiseled. He eyes were green, like the forest, his hair, a dark brown tumble of curls. “You are Ashton.”
“I—“ she swallowed. He was so tall, so broad, like a tree settled into the land, and young—his eyes still boyish and playful. “I am.”
“I am Brock, leader of my company. I passed Lady Lila in the great hall. She said to speak with you about arranging a place for my company to practice, a field would do or the tournament grounds. They hate to be bored and long to be in shape for a tournament in a month’s time.”
“I am sure that you are welcome to use Lord Billingdor’s grounds,” Ashton responded. “I will inform his men to allow you and your men entrance. Will you want them to assist you in practice?”
His smile was broad and quick, despite his large size, “We would want them for competition. It would be great to see how the knights loyal to the black knight compare to those of Greenborough. If you could point me that way, I can make the arrangements myself. It is not so big of a request between knights,” he took a step forward and hesitated briefly. “You should come and watch the tourney.”
“I am not a noble, sir and without my lady—”
“And neither am I a noble. It is only practice. You can pretend to be my woman, watching me, your knight from your royal loft.”
Ashton laughed and took a step back as he took one forward, “I make no promises, though such a sight would be worthy of the time spent.”
“And afterwards, would you join me tonight for a walk in the gardens? I know little of such things, but from what I saw the path was … as beautiful as you.”
“You are very gallant, sir, but I am my lady’s companion and those are her gardens. I do not know as of yet what will be expected of me tonight.”
He reached up and touched her nose with a gentle finger. “Then we shall wait and see.”
“I miss your mother,” Sara murmured as she walked through the rose gardens and stopped and lifted a fragile flower with her fingertips. “Her roses were always lovely.”
Sara was reserved, no longer the bright and playful girl Lila had known as a child, speaking in soft tones with her eyes to the ground. It puzzled Lila somewhat as Sara had seemed more vibrant at the ball.
Lila sighed and admitted she could not compare Sara with the image she had carried with her since childhood. She was a different person herself; one who liked her flowers, her quiet … and one who had been blessed with the most vibrant love.
“My uncle hired a man from London to start the garden and to teach me in their proper care. It helped me when I missed my mother. She was lovely, like a rose,” she too lifted a flower gently with her fingertips and breathed in the refreshing scent. Closing her eyes she thought of Alex, of walking here in the garden with him.
“You care for your own flowers?”
“I allow few others to do so,” Lila answered and broke a brown leaf off the edge of a bush. “Do you not have something that pleases you?”
“My music. ‘And al above ther lay a gay sautrie, on which he made a-nyghtes melodie so swetely that all the chambre rong; and Angelus ad virginem he song....’ I fell in love with that line long ago. It’s Chaucer, from the Miller’s Tale. William’s father was at court when he would come through and recite words for the king.”
“The psaltery? Like a harp and a lute.”
“Of course. It’s music is so beautiful,” Sara said and Lila noted the change. Here was something Sara was passionate about. Here was the light in her eyes Lila remembered.
“Then you should play tonight for us.”
The tournament was rowdy and a holiday from the mundane. Lila allowed the staff to go to the grounds to watch the knights of Billingdor and Greenbourogh clash in sport. There were sounds of people cheering, swords clanging, jousts striking, and horses whining. There were scents from a roasted pig and the merriment of a tournament.
“You fancy the knight in the armor readying for the sword fight?” Lila asked Ashton as she settled in her seat above the grounds. She wore a dress of the lightest blue that shimmered in the sunlight. Beside her Sarah sat regally, though both had laughed over playing the part of the head nobles at a tournament. “He has turned his eyes toward you more than once this afternoon.”
“He asked me to join him in a walk in the garden tonight.”
“Do you wish to do so?”
“I know him not,” Ashton responded, “but he is nice to look at.”
Lila chuckled. “Then if you need an excuse I shall request for you to be at my side tonight. We shall be enjoying ourselves in the music room. Sarah will play the psaltery and maybe I shall pick up my lire. He is welcome to join us.”
“I somehow doubt Sir William will join us for a concert. Possibly if we joined him on horseback and raced across the fields … or I suppose we could learn to fight with swords. Still, I hope that he joins us at the chapel in the morrow.”
“It will say a good deal about him in my eyes.”
“As it will mine,” Ashton concluded, but she watched him as swords clashed and bodies moved in competitive battle. He was strong and quick on his feet, despite his size. It only took a moment it seemed before he raised his sword in victory.
Those surrounding the clash cheered, but when he turned he looked around until his eyes found Ashton’s. Vaulting the fence, he hurried over and jumped up on the railing before the nobles’ seats and climbed until he was up before them.
A tall giant, she thought, powerful—his eyes and actions all for a woman. To woo—to impress, for whatever reason it made her hand spin a little.
“You have some skill to beat the best of Billingdor,” Lila spoke clearly, nobly.
“Ah—no, one would not claim to have beaten the best until one went against the keeper of the castle himself. I do not fancy that I would win against your lord.”
“I will give your regards to the him myself,” she looked at Ashton, barely moving her head. “My companion will accompany you to see that you receive some refreshment, if that would meet with your approval.”
He looked at Ashton and she smiled somewhat shyly before dropping her eyes, “It would be my honor, my lady.”
“And we should hope to see you at the chapel in the morn.”
He looked at Lila and met her gaze, the understanding passing between them. He nodded his head and then laughed merrily. “I shall be up promptly,” he said, then climbed down with surprising ease.
Sarah sighed as Brock appeared on the platform and took Ashton away on his arm, “I have missed this.”
“A tournament?” Lila asked.
“Somewhat. Maybe feeling foolish. Maybe just watching the knights at their best. I don’t know,” she looked down at her hands, “William gets so busy at court and the procedures there are so set and exacting. Even at tournaments a knight, even his own, would not dare to climb the trellis to the noble’s balcony.”
“There’s not much protocol in practice,” Lila said and settled back into her uncle’s chair, pulling her legs up under her like she would have done as a child. “And it’s not official.”
“There’s not much protocol here as it is anyway. I don’t mean that as a criticism. You just get to see people so naturally. I have enjoyed spending time with you and your companion. She has made you a wonderful friend,” Sara glanced out to the grounds and watched as a pair of knights set up to joust, their horses itching to run on either end. “I’ve known Brock for many months—and it is only now that I see he is still young … like us. He always has responsibility hanging on his shoulders, I suppose, and it makes him seem so serious.”
“Then he is trustworthy?” Lila asked.
Sarah smiled, “He is truly a knight of the highest honor, worthy of your Ashton’s affections.”
Time passed so quickly, Lila thought as she sat before her dressing mirror the night following, the sounds of laughter and music almost like a ball in her memory that had danced itself around the last few days. A fire, lit in it’s place behind her popped and bounced. She watched the image in the mirror.
They had made music. Lila had picked up her lire, Sarah her psaltery and with Ashton’s strong voice had sung several of the old songs. They had danced and they had laughed, then had worshiped in the quiet of the chapel where Father Bryan spoke of King Saul, his greed, and his unwillingness to wait for the blessing that had already been promised.
He’d seemed more resilient, she thought, whether because of the gathered strangers within or possibly her own more rosy composition. It had been nice for Sarah to interrupt the day-to-day … sameness.
“You’re thinking of going, my lady,” Ashton said as she stood behind Lila brushing her hair.
“I don’t look forward to the quiet anymore,” Lila murmured and looked down to her hands. “I will-I would like a little time to myself, but not yet. I wouldn’t have thought that I would long more people to invade these hardy walls. But I do.”
“You miss your Alex.”
“Things are gray without him here—I don’t walk the halls expecting to see him, to hear his voice—“
“His or Percy’s?”
Lila laughed, acknowledging Percy’s active and somewhat loud personality. “I wish I knew the art of drawing so that I could have sketched his face,” she reached out and placed a finger to the mirror, tracing her own jaw. “I could have him here with me and remember him without going into dreams. Sarah’s home is in London. She says her sister is good with her sketches. And that her sister is a welcomed guest at Galladin.”
“So your Alex could drop by.”
Lila smiled, “Possibly—though he is busy as a servant of the king’s chamber…it is…possible….”
“Certainly more possible then his being able to pull himself away and see you here.”
“And you would be able to see your Brock a little longer.”
“He is not my Brock. He is all about fighting and killing, that would be his love, his wife. He sees the battle, another war, even when he stands there with me. The thoughts light up his eyes. He knows how to defend a city, protect himself. He has not said it, but I know he feels that he has no use for a Savior.”
“We all have use for a Savior. We shall pray that he comes to understand,” Lila sighed. “Pack us a bag, Ashton and send a word to my uncle. We shall go with Sara on the morrow, taking her invitation to visit her halls and her work.”
She could not have missed the delight in Ashton’s eyes. Brock would be in attendance for at least the journey.
“And to Alex?”
“My uncle will know how to reach him.”
“I am glad that you are traveling with me. The road in coming was so long,” Sara lounged against the pillows that nearly covered the seat and the floor of the carriage. “William will be pleased that you decided to come. He is often so busy—perhaps with you with me in London he will find more time to step away from the court.”
“Will you go away for a wedding trip?”
“Not if we are engaged in another war with France. He speaks of it like it will be ….”
“He will go into battle?”
“No, but others will … his troops …which would limit those that could travel with us. He wants to take me to France, through France, down to Florence and Verona—places he claims have great art and architecture. New artists. Very … classical Greek.”
“One of my uncle’s servants came from a merchant’s family. Sicily, I believe. He—“
The sounds gave her pause—horses whining. Shouts from the men. Then a call, a cry—the call for a fight, savage and dark.
The horses sped up as the driver cracked his whip. Sara, on her pillows, rocked, grabbing madly for the frame and something to brace herself with.
Lila fought against the rising fear and lifted the curtain to pier into the dying light. “God help us,” she prayed, surprised to hear her voice clear and strong.
Outside, as the carriage raced through the trees, it was like a dream. Fast and brutal riders fought on horse back.
The men were shouting—and swords clanged, metal against metal.
Ashton reached for her hand and across from her Sara’s eyes met hers.
Afraid—yes, she was afraid, but there was something else, something disbelieving.
“You knew of this,” she murmured.
“No—“ Sara cried. “No—how could I—he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t do this—“
“Sara are we in danger?”
“I—“
The carriage rocked and was suddenly falling, flipping sideways. Lila screamed, putting her hands out to ward off her fall.
They landed in a heap. The wood of the carriage splintering into pieces.
Then her world went dark.
