by Regan Walker
Nicholas tossed the bird up and the falcon soared, making large circles overhead. Suddenly, Nicholas turned around and glanced at the castle as if he realized he was being watched.
Noelle jerked back, embarrassed to be caught spying.
After several minutes, she looked out again, and was relieved that he had turned back to the group of men. Noelle watched as a groom brought out the most spectacular white destrier she’d ever seen. He was at least two hands taller than Thor, and Thor was considered huge.
She shouldn’t be surprised that the groom led the horse over to Nicholas. She could see him reaching for the reins. He mounted the animal as the other knights followed suit. Without a backward glance, they rode from the castle’s walls. Noelle leaned her head against the stone wall and wondered if she had just experienced the most exciting part of her day.
Deciding she could mope by the window or get dressed and experience the day, Noelle chose the latter. She went over to the washstand and tried to pour water into a basin. Nothing came out. She looked in the pitcher and saw a layer of ice had formed. She punched a hole in the ice and poured the water into the basin.
The chill had finally left the room, so she washed her face, gasping as the cold water took her breath away. She dressed in a light gray, long-sleeved tunic, followed by a dark gray mantle embroidered with light gray and rose. Since they would be outside most of the day, she’d wear her fur-lined cloak, which was dark green to match her eyes.
Moving over to the small mirror mounted in a wooden frame, she combed her hair and began to braid it, tying off the end with gray-and-rose ribbons.
“Good morning, milady,” Carolyn called as she swept into Noelle’s room. “I would have helped you dress.”
“There was no need as I arose early. Where is Isabelle?”
Carolyn chuckled. “It’s taking Isabelle longer to move around this morning. Just how much wine did she consume last night? And what kind of conversation were you having with the knights? The few times I glanced your way everyone seemed so intent on whatever Sir Nicholas was saying that no one else seemed to matter.”
“Sir Lancelot and Sir Nicholas retold the story of how Arthur was chosen to be king,” Noelle explained. “That’s why Isabelle’s head is hurting.” Noelle nodded, thankful that she was not afflicted with the same kind of head pain this mom. “The better the story got, the more Isabelle hoisted her cup.”
“But what was said?”
“It was the story of King Arthur.”
“Fie. I wish I could have heard the tale.”
“Why are you two shouting?” Isabelle grumbled as she stumbled into the room, holding her head and groaning at the same time.
“Will you be able to accompany us this morning?” Noelle asked, trying hard to hide her smile at her friend’s comical appearance.
Isabelle laughed and then caught herself. “Aye, as long as the horse doesn’t bounce.”
“I shall order you a donkey,” Carolyn teased.
“Well, my head may hurt,” Isabelle admitted as she eased herself down upon a chair, “but I would not trade a minute of the company I kept.” She looked at Carolyn. “And did you see that big Scot who sat next to me?”
“Aye. He was a fine one. But I thought you wanted Lancelot,” Carolyn reminded Isabelle.
“Methinks I am fickle.” Isabelle gave a slow smile. “But lovable.”
Noelle gave Isabelle a sisterly hug. “I agree with lovable. Now, let us fetch something to eat before we venture out.”
Once downstairs, they found Guinevere already seated at the table, waiting for them. She motioned for everyone to join her. The serving maids immediately produced trays of breads, cheese, and fresh fruit.
“I am having some cloth cut so we can place holly and evergreen upon it. Last year, I did not think I’d get the holly home for the thorns pricking my horse.
“It is a good point,” Noelle said. “Last year, I had to have a cart pick up our branches.”
“We mustn’t forget the mistletoe, for the kissing ball,” Isabelle reminded everyone.
“Since when do you need mistletoe?” Carolyn laughed.
Isabelle frowned at Carolyn. “You must not listen to her, milady. I am usually very quiet.”
Noelle choked on her mead. When she’d regained her composure, she said, “I have very unusual ladies-in-waiting, milady. As you remember, we grew up together.”
“They are most unusual,” Guinevere agreed. “But I envy you in many ways. These two ladies seem good friends to you, something that I have not had since I came to Camelot,” she said as she reached for a hunk of bread. She looked at Carolyn and Isabelle. “When we are alone, please speak freely around me.”
Isabelle smiled. “Yes, milady.”
“We will gather the holly first and then look for the mistletoe. It was not abundant last year.”
After breakfast, Guinevere’s two ladies-in-waiting, Lynette and Ettarre, joined them and together they walked to the stables where the palfreys were saddled, along with Thor.
“Such a big horse you have. I do not remember him,” Guinevere said as she patted the animal’s neck. “I would be afraid of such a beast,” she admitted.
Noelle mounted, adjusting her cloak for warmth. “I raised Thor from a foal, so never have I thought of his size. He is a beauty, I will admit. Father gave him to me before he died.”
The small party rode from the castle with two guards. On the field outside the castle, the squires and pages had just started pitching the pavilions. The few tents already up were of many different sizes and as diverse as the knights themselves. On the tops of each flew the banners of the knights. Some larger, some smaller, their white silkiness and painted symbols or coat of arms very colorful.
She did not see Nicholas’s banner; she wondered what it would be like, and then wanted to scold herself for thinking of him at all. Why did she think of Nicholas? Was it because of the man? No, of course not. She just wondered what his banner looked like, nothing more.
Workmen were preparing the jousting field and the stands where the nobles would sit to watch the tournament. Noelle had actually helped Tristan practice jousting, but when she had unseated him, he refused to joust against her again. She smiled. He probably feared that she’d become better than he.
Noelle turned back and looked toward the forest. She realized she’d been hoping to catch a glimpse of Nic--no, Sir Gavin, she corrected her conscious.
“It’s colder than I thought,” Carolyn commented from behind them.
“Aye,” Noelle said as she looked at the sky. “I think those dark gray clouds are heavy with snow.”
“You have been talking about snow for days. You know it’s early yet,” Isabelle said.
“I can always hope,” Noelle told her.
Guinevere pointed. “Look, there are some holly trees.”
Since there were several stands of trees, Carolyn, Isabelle, Lynette, and Ettarre went over to one group, and Noelle and Guinevere dismounted and started cutting fresh holly at the cluster of trees closer to them.
“I hope you were able to spend some time with Sir Gavin,” Guinevere said as they removed their knives and began to cut the smaller limbs full of dark green leaves with red berries and place them on big, heavy cloths spread on the ground.
“Aye, he sat on one side of me, and Sir Nicholas on the other.”
“Then you were the envy of all the ladies,” Guinevere commented as she bent over and placed holly boughs on the cloth.
“How so?”
“Many a lady would have liked to have been in your position in between two such fine knights.”
“Ouch,” Noelle said when a holly leaf pricked her. She slid her finger into her mouth for a moment to stop the stinging. “I’m surprised that neither Nicholas nor Gavin has married.”
Guinevere laughed. “Some men resist all the way to the altar.”
“Did King Arthur?”
“Nay.” Guinevere smiled. “He has always been s
weet and loving. I am lucky,” she said as she placed a few more branches on the cloth.
“Then you loved him from the very start?”
Guinevere shook her head. “Nay. Not in the way that you mean. I have always cared deeply for Arthur, and I do love him, but not in that way. Perhaps there is no such thing.”
“I am beginning to wonder myself,” Noelle mumbled.
Guinevere took her filled cloth to the cart, then leaned against the wooden boards. She glanced at the guards and saw that they were not in hearing distance, but were helping the other ladies. “What did you think of Sir Nicholas?”
Noelle placed her bundle in the cart, too. “I think that he is arrogant.”
“Aye, that he is. And well he should be. There is not a maiden in court who has not tried to seduce him,” Guinevere said with a knowing look. “I see you are surprised.”
“Nay. But a Lady Clarisse was mentioned. Is that someone he loves?”
“She wishes that were true, but it’s not. Clarisse complained that Nicholas was toying with her affections and making promises that he kept not. That is why he was sent to Ireland.”
“Was it true?”
“I think not. He saw Clarisse as just another easy conquest, so you should be careful of him.”
“He is of no interest to me. I was just curious,” Noelle quickly assured her. She must not have the queen thinking she was excited over a man she’d just met.
Because she wasn’t.
She was just curious.
“I see,” Guinevere said. “I do hope that Nicholas finds a special lady one day. I have always been fond of him. He is not like the other knights.”
“How so?” Noelle asked before she could stop herself. She really wasn’t interested ... she just needed to remind herself more often. She went back to get a few more holly branches that she’d left on the ground.
“Nicholas is of royal blood, but his life has not been easy. His parents died when he was but ten, and Nicholas has had to fend for himself since then. He had no holdings, no money, no family. Arthur is his cousin, but Nicholas was too proud to ask for help. He was fostered out to a family, but he ran away from them.”
Noelle couldn’t believe what she was hearing. To see Nicholas, one would think that he held himself above the rest because he was wealthier than most. Now she could see his mannerisms were a protection ... a way to distance himself. And how did Nicholas the boy survive at such a young age without a family’s protection? What horrors had he seen? She could only imagine.
“What happened to his parents?” Noelle asked.
“That is something that Nicholas will have to tell you. There have been so many terrible tales. I am not sure which is the truth, but it is something he will not discuss.”
“It’s none of my concern,” Noelle commented stiffly. “And retelling the story must be painful for him.”
Guinevere looked at Noelle. “I am not sure. Nicholas speaks naught of himself. But one day he will find a maiden he cannot forget so easily as the unfortunate Lady Clarisse. Someone who can melt the ice from his heart.”
“Perhaps.” Noelle wrapped another cloth around the bundle of holly and evergreen. She straightened and looked at the queen. A slow smile spread across her lips. “Miracles do happen.”
It would take a miracle for a lady to get along with that man, Noelle thought. She sensed he threw women aside and never bothered to look at them twice.
Thank God, she wasn’t one of them.
Chapter 5
Laugher floated through the air as Carolyn, Isabelle, Lynette, and Ettarre came back to the clearing, their arms full of greenery.
“We’ve gathered plenty, milady,” Carolyn said as she dropped her bundle of evergreens, then clutched her cloak tighter around her. “I believe it is getting colder out here. It truly feels like Christmas.”
Noelle glanced up at the gray clouds. “It will probably rain soon if those dark clouds are any portent. A roaring fire will feel good upon our return.”
Guinevere finished tying up a bundle of limbs. “We can tie ribbons for our wreaths and have hot wassail.” She straightened. “But first we need to find some mistletoe.”
“It is most important for the kissing ball,” Isabelle said with a merry twinkle in her eye.
Noelle knew that Isabelle would surely make use of the mistletoe the first chance she got. It was amazing how different her ladies were compared to Guinevere’s. Noelle smiled. She liked her lively ladies best.
“It has been hard to find this year,” Guinevere said.
“If we all take different directions, maybe we can locate it faster,” Guinevere suggested.
“I remember seeing a clump of mistletoe in some trees that we passed on our way into Camelot.” Noelle walked toward her horse. “I’ll take Thor and ride over to the path we traveled, and if I can locate the spot, I will come back for some help.”
“Take a guard with you,” Isabelle insisted.
“Nay, I’m only going a short distance and the guards should stay with the queen. Now, let us make haste so we can warm our bodies by a roaring fire.”
Noelle looked up at the tops of the trees as she rode slowly through the woods. The leaf-carpeted forest floor muffled Thor’s hooves. A faint tinkling sound caught her attention. She turned her head toward the noise and lowered the hood of her cloak to better hear the sound.
It was a bell. But out here in the middle of nowhere? She pulled on the horse’s reins. Strange, indeed, to hear such a sound so deep in the forest.
Following the sound, she wondered where it came from. She must be getting closer, for the tinkling grew louder and more pronounced.
A fierce wind had started to blow and the chimes became more insistent with the strength of the wind. Noelle gathered her cloak around her and buttoned it under her chin. She wondered, for a moment, if she should return to the others, but as she turned the bell seemed to float on the wind towards her. She scanned the tops of the trees, the mistletoe of little concern now.
Finally, she found the source of the noise when she came upon a medium-sized fir tree. It was a falcon perched at the very top of the tree. Every time the wind blew, the bird would spread his wings and try to fly, but he couldn’t.
Apparently he was caught on something. Noelle gasped in dismay. She could not leave the unfortunate bird. He wouldn’t be able to help himself, and she couldn’t bear to see animals in trouble, even those as fierce as this falcon.
Dismounting, Noelle slipped off her cloak and threw it across the saddle. The frigid air immediately made its presence known, and she shivered. Pulling the back of her cotehardie between her legs, she tucked the tail end beneath her belt and tightened it, forming a makeshift pair of trousers.
That took care of one problem. She didn’t want to tumble from the tree because her clothing caught on something, and it would be easier to climb dressed thusly.
Moving over to the tree, Noelle reached for the first branch. Thank God, she’d played as a boy when she was growing up and had climbed many trees. Hopefully, she had not forgotten the skills of her childhood.
Noelle knew she couldn’t climb the tree where the bird was because there were no lower branches. However, she could climb the beech tree, whose boughs swept the fir tree, in hopes of reaching the falcon and setting him free. Carefully, she clambered up the tree, trying not to tear her cotehardie.
Soon, she was a hundred feet straight up. Noelle decided it was best that she not look down just in case she wasn’t as brave as she used to be. Her fingers were cold as were her nose and cheeks, but she was not going to let a little discomfort stop her. This magnificent bird needed her help.
Finally, Noelle reached the falcon. She scooted out to the end of a slim branch, feeling as if she were a copper-colored beech leaf that might at any moment fall to the ground at the mercy of the wind.
Of course, a leaf would float, but she would not, so Noelle whispered a small prayer to please help fools such as she.
&n
bsp; Be brave, she told herself.
When she opened her eyes, she noticed that the falcon’s beady black eyes were focused on her, and he opened his mouth. If he could speak, he would likely be calling her a fool, as well.
“Easy, my brave poppet. I won’t hurt you,” she soothed.
A gust of wind swept through the beech and fir trees, sending limbs and branches soaring up into the air and back down again. When the branch settled, Noelle clung to it for dear life.
After several moments, she convinced herself that she had to open her eyes. When she did, she saw that the falcon was caught on a notch of the tree by the silver varvel which was attached to his jesses.
On the leather thong was stamped the figure of a dragon. Noelle sighed impatiently. She should have realized that this bird belonged to Nicholas.
Again the boughs of the beech tree surged toward the pine, and Noelle reached to grasp the bird’s yellow legs, but the falcon opened her bill and hissed with fear, anger, and warning.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” Noelle whispered soothingly before the wind divided them again. While Noelle waited for the next gust, she got a good look at the bird. It was beautiful to behold with its blue- gray feathers across the top of its head, back, and wings. It had a dark stripe down its face, and its underbelly was light-colored.
The wind again brought her precarious perch close to the bird. Every time she came near, she came face-to-face with the cold black eyes of an untamed creature who looked none too friendly.
Several stronger gusts of wind whipped at the trees, sweeping Noelle up and down until she felt nauseous. She squeezed her eyes shut and realized how stupid she’d been to climb the tree in the first place.
