“Aye, it is.”
“And what is its name?”
“Challouns. It is written here,” he said, pointing, “on the blade. There is a splinter of the true cross in the glass ball on the hilt, and this emerald is said to come from King Arthur’s crown.”
Brent reverently held the sword before him, his head back and his arms lifted.
Lyonene and Ranulf followed, and she squeezed his arm. “You are most kind to the boy. I can see why he near worships you. My father has never spent so much time with his pages, or even his squires.”
“I like children.” He looked pointedly at her stomach. “Mayhaps you could give me a few.”
“I shall fill every nook at Malvoisin with lion cubs.”
He grinned mischievously. “If I but last through the nights required of me.”
She tossed her hair and refused to answer him, which made him laugh and kiss her cheek.
At the lists, the benches were already full and several of the Black Guard occupied the section set aside for the Earl of Malvoisin; they rose until Lyonene was seated. She spoke to each of
the four men and congratulated them on their win at wrestling the day before. Corbet and Maularde sat apart, each beside a pretty girl. To her surprise, Hugo Fitz Waren did also. She nudged Ranulf.
“Hugo is so solemn, I did not think him to be…”
Ranulf’s eyes sparkled. “None of my men find it difficult to have a woman. They are most honored to be of the Black Guard. For all the bragging of the others, Hugo has many women who work to bind him to them.”
She sat near Ranulf, their thighs and arms pressed close. “As I have bound you to me?”
He pushed a strand of hair from her eyes. “Aye, as you have done so to me.”
The blaring of the trumpets turned their attention to the sand-covered field. The jumping events occupied the morn—jumping high hurdles and across long distances. Lord Dacre’s men took one of these events.
The trumpets again sounded to announce that dinner was served. For this meal, Berengaria sat at Lyonene’s left and Ranulf at her right. They were pleasantly entertained by three young girls who played and sang.
King Edward stood, and the room was silent. “I have an announcement … this day. We strove to conquer Llewellyn and did so, yet all … know the story of his traitor brother, David. When David was … captured, his family was taken to Rhuddlan Castle. There were two sons and s … seven daughters. The sons, twins of three years, have been g … given to my knights to raise. The … daughters and wife all asked to go to nunneries. The … wife and four of the daughters I have allowed to do so… Now I have tried to wed the other three. One killed herself.”
The crowd gasped at the horror of this mortal sin.
“The other daughter I married to Sir John of Bohum. Some of you may have … known him. The girl killed him on their … wedding night and then herself.”
The hall was totally silent, each face a mask of horror. “
Now I try to … keep the last daughter from a wasted life.” He motioned to a man near the door, and everyone turned to watch.
Two enormous, mail-clad men came into the room with the sounds of a dragging chain behind them. The girl was almost too small to be seen at first. Her head was down, face hidden, but her black hair cascaded over her blue velvet surcoat.
“You may … wonder at my chaining so small a girl,” Edward continued, “but she has killed one of my guards, and you can see the wounds born by these men.”
Lyonene noticed the long furrows on the men’s faces where she had raked them with her nails.
Berengaria nudged her friend. “ ’Twere I in her place, I would act just so. I hear the Welsh do not think their David a traitor.”
“Her … name is Angharad, and I now offer her in … marriage to any knight worthy of the woman’s rank.”
At this the girl lifted her face and the crowd exclaimed at her beauty. The black hair framed a pretty face with a small nose and full lips, but her eyes were what was startling, for they were a brilliant, vibrant blue. They burned now as if from a fever, and her look of defiance and contempt was easily read.
Berengaria directed Lyonene’s attention to Lord Dacre, a few places from them. He stared at the girl open-mouthed, his eyes glazed as if there were no reason left in his brain. Lyonene nudged Ranulf so he could see his friend.
“Dacre has more sense than that,” he whispered under his breath.