The Lady in the Tower Read Online Free Page A
Author: Marie-Louise Jensen
words I wanted to fling at him.
‘Father would have stopped you jousting long ago if I had told on you,’ Walter added.
‘But you did not, and you will not, because you need me to train with,’ I threw back at him.
‘Pooh!’ he scoffed.
We glared silently at one another for a few moments. Used to our quarrels, the castellan broke in:
‘If you think the rules should be changed, perhaps you will speak to Sir Walter, Mistress,’ he suggested.
I imagined the scene that would ensue, and sighed. ‘Oh well, I suppose watching a tournament will be less dull than life generally is here.’
‘Are we going to practise?’ asked the castellan drily.
We rode hard and struck our targets accurately until humans and horses alike were blown. I felt I had proved my brother wrong with my performance, though he was not going to concede the point.
I headed back to the castle with my head full of the coming joust, and thought of little else over the following days. I wished I could enter. Nothing on the scale of this tournament had happened in years, and the whole castle buzzed with excitement. Even the servants, to whom this would bring so much extra work, walked with a new spring in their step, and could be seen bustling all over the castle, opening up little used apartments and spring cleaning. The kitchen was likewise a hive of activity, as our stores of grain and preserves were checked and counted and orders for more supplies were made out. I wandered hither and thither, without any role in the preparations, feeling wistful.
As usual, I sought refuge in the stables, and it was from here that I saw my father arrive a few days later. I was hiding in the hayloft at the time, having had another argument with Walter in which he had spoken insultingly of our mother. I could not understand that he had not more loyalty towards her. I had to remind myself that he had been only four when she was taken from us.
The stable loft was my favourite hiding place when I needed to be alone. There I could lie in the warm, sweet-smelling hay and listen to the horses breathing and moving about below. It was a place of security and comfort.
The clatter of hooves in the courtyard interrupted my thoughts. I leaned out through a window high in the wall, and looked down upon the sight of Sir Walter leading a cavalcade of about a dozen men. There were many fine horses among them, though just now they and their riders looked weary and dusty from the road.
The grooms and stable boys ran out to take the horses. There would be frantic activity in the stables from now on, as the horses were fed, watered, and rubbed down and all the tack was cleaned. From my vantage point above the yard, I saw Tom go to the head of a tall roan gelding and take his reins behind the bit, while his elderly rider struggled down from the saddle, stiff from his long ride. My insides froze, as it occurred to me that this might be the man my father intended to betroth me to. Indeed, it could be any of them, I realized with horror, looking them all over. My gaze lingered especially on the older members of the party, noting the red noses, bad teeth, and bulging paunches. I shivered.
I realized I was observed. An elegant young man, fashionably dressed, was sitting easily astride his black horse, one gloved hand resting on his hip. He was looking straight at me, a grin spreading over his face. I drew back hastily into the dim light of the loft. Before I lost sight of him, he winked at me. I was disconcerted, and hid myself in the darkest corner. There, comfortably snuggled into the hay, I contemplated the change in my circumstances these visitors might bring about. My habit was to hide from strangers. But would I now be called to eat my meals at the top table of the great hall as a daughter of the house? Time would tell.
My ears caught the sound of my father’s voice in the stalls below. Cautiously, I pushed aside a pile of hay and sought a crack where the planking had shrunk
‘Father would have stopped you jousting long ago if I had told on you,’ Walter added.
‘But you did not, and you will not, because you need me to train with,’ I threw back at him.
‘Pooh!’ he scoffed.
We glared silently at one another for a few moments. Used to our quarrels, the castellan broke in:
‘If you think the rules should be changed, perhaps you will speak to Sir Walter, Mistress,’ he suggested.
I imagined the scene that would ensue, and sighed. ‘Oh well, I suppose watching a tournament will be less dull than life generally is here.’
‘Are we going to practise?’ asked the castellan drily.
We rode hard and struck our targets accurately until humans and horses alike were blown. I felt I had proved my brother wrong with my performance, though he was not going to concede the point.
I headed back to the castle with my head full of the coming joust, and thought of little else over the following days. I wished I could enter. Nothing on the scale of this tournament had happened in years, and the whole castle buzzed with excitement. Even the servants, to whom this would bring so much extra work, walked with a new spring in their step, and could be seen bustling all over the castle, opening up little used apartments and spring cleaning. The kitchen was likewise a hive of activity, as our stores of grain and preserves were checked and counted and orders for more supplies were made out. I wandered hither and thither, without any role in the preparations, feeling wistful.
As usual, I sought refuge in the stables, and it was from here that I saw my father arrive a few days later. I was hiding in the hayloft at the time, having had another argument with Walter in which he had spoken insultingly of our mother. I could not understand that he had not more loyalty towards her. I had to remind myself that he had been only four when she was taken from us.
The stable loft was my favourite hiding place when I needed to be alone. There I could lie in the warm, sweet-smelling hay and listen to the horses breathing and moving about below. It was a place of security and comfort.
The clatter of hooves in the courtyard interrupted my thoughts. I leaned out through a window high in the wall, and looked down upon the sight of Sir Walter leading a cavalcade of about a dozen men. There were many fine horses among them, though just now they and their riders looked weary and dusty from the road.
The grooms and stable boys ran out to take the horses. There would be frantic activity in the stables from now on, as the horses were fed, watered, and rubbed down and all the tack was cleaned. From my vantage point above the yard, I saw Tom go to the head of a tall roan gelding and take his reins behind the bit, while his elderly rider struggled down from the saddle, stiff from his long ride. My insides froze, as it occurred to me that this might be the man my father intended to betroth me to. Indeed, it could be any of them, I realized with horror, looking them all over. My gaze lingered especially on the older members of the party, noting the red noses, bad teeth, and bulging paunches. I shivered.
I realized I was observed. An elegant young man, fashionably dressed, was sitting easily astride his black horse, one gloved hand resting on his hip. He was looking straight at me, a grin spreading over his face. I drew back hastily into the dim light of the loft. Before I lost sight of him, he winked at me. I was disconcerted, and hid myself in the darkest corner. There, comfortably snuggled into the hay, I contemplated the change in my circumstances these visitors might bring about. My habit was to hide from strangers. But would I now be called to eat my meals at the top table of the great hall as a daughter of the house? Time would tell.
My ears caught the sound of my father’s voice in the stalls below. Cautiously, I pushed aside a pile of hay and sought a crack where the planking had shrunk