That Most Precious Gift
A medieval love story
By Timothy Bryant
Copyright Timothy Bryant 2010
Any and all similarities and or events of persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
CHAPTER ONE
Back in the days of dragons and witches, lived a beautiful princess whose name was Lenee. Her father, King Jacob, had made for his family a strong castle abundant with many rewards since coming from the land of Uka. His queen, Raina, a loving woman to all the villagers, always thanked the heavens for its blessing of the fair child who bore the sunrise upon her crown like unto that of her own.
One day, as the two found pleasure preparing the garden for spring, Lenee's mother noticed despair upon her daughter's brow.
“Fair daughter, one of my own heart, what seems to trouble you on such a blessed morning?”
“My life is full, dear mother. I have the birds, the soil, a fine castle upon which to lay a down covering. Father, you, sweet mother, are far more loving than I could ever deserve. Even the doe in the forest feed from my palm. Yet, I feel an emptiness, a mysterious void within my soul. As if beyond these walls holds for me the answers which I seek. The water to quench this sadness within my heart,” concluded the princess while gently sprinkling water on freshly planted seeds.
“Tis spring, my child,” sighed the queen. “It be your heart which has lowered your brow. The season when court-ships abound among the daily chores. When a young man finds fancy in one such as yourself - and yes, you to him. What if we were to prepare a most bounteous feast to not only celebrate the arrival of this fine season but also to use as a gallery of the land's most dashing of knights?”
“Mother!" blushed the lass. “You speak so deviously towards the magic of love's first glance. It should be of fate, of chance, you know, like the minstrel's song. Not like the gathering of items for market!”
“Yes, but one must set the trap to snare the quail, my love,” said the woman while gathering her tools.
“Oh, but my heart is too weak. I have had many callers, yea even an offer to be wed, but love sought me not,” sighed the princess. “Cupid's bow is not to be directed towards my breast evermore. Let us just study the beauty of this garden, for it's certain that these seeds will take root and bloom."
The princess and her mother collected themselves and retreated to the confines of the castle.
“My precious child, the Lord above would surely have your heart burdened no more. Yes, though love's magic fails many times, as true as you are to my heart there is one who will one day take you from these walls. Though I fear the day you will be gone, it is how it will be.”
“Dearest mother, I will love you forever. None shall ever come between my love for you and father.”
“I know your love is as solid as the oak in the forest but you should also be happy. Fact, you shall be happy! Let us prepare the feast. Let us prepare this feast of love!” proclaimed the queen.
And so the grand event was planned. Throughout the land invitations were sent to the most daring, the most dashing of knights. From valleys to mountains, across oceans and rivers, word echoed of this upcoming celebration of spring.
Meanwhile, in the far off land of Maryknoll, a young boy ran to a slowing rider.
“Sir Maxwell! Sir Maxwell!” yelled the lad.
“My boy, if you speak and run anymore, you will truly forget to breathe. Is thy place aflame? Has a dragon flown down and taken your sword? Or has thy uncle found pleasure in the rye again?” laughed the knight, stopping his horse at the steward's feet.
“Well, not as of this time, my lord, but by the roosters crow will he surely find pleasure once again.”
“So what be thy concern for such dramatics?” the young rider questioned while removing his shield.
“A message, my lord! Came by way of royal carrier, from the castle of King Jacob, the land of Ponder.”
“I know of no such King by that name. I have traveled many lands, yet memory leaves me of one called Ponder.”
The knight took the scroll and read it, announcing its message to the young steward.
“You are cordially invited to celebrate the blessings of spring by partaking of a most glorious feast,
wine and song. Your attentiveness is most appreciated.
By declaration, Queen Raina, and the blessed princess Lenee.”
“A feast, my knight! A most glorious feast, my knight! Wine? Song? A princess?”
“Now, now James. Canst thou not see that this message is laced with a woman's venom? Remember those invitations received from the castle of Pana and that of Gren? The dire straits hardened the heart of this knight?”
This knight, Maxwell, knew all too well the dark side of Cupid's ways. For many years, he himself believed as James, that love was as the stories told by passing minstrels. That a dashing knight was to meet, fall in love, and then settle with a beautiful princess. Yet, with age came truth and pain. With romance came lies and heartbreak. So often had the young knight been taken by maidens in waiting, that his heart had become hardened to any possibility of true love.
“Tis true, master, that thou has been more a victim of romance than that of dragons.”
“Victim?” exclaimed the knight. “It was of my own stupidity to fall for the beauty and wealth of those thievery wenches. Who is to say that this too will not only rip my very heart but also steal the final taste of romance from my soul?”
“But lord, Cupid's arrows are each as different as are the stars above. Who is to say when or where love's true potion will be given?" asked the steward "Have thou not sought prayer for an angel to come and take your heart? Have thou not also confided in soothsayers and magicians in counsel pertaining to this matter?”
“How did you hear of such tales, boy?” snapped the knight.
“Forgive me, sir knight, but I too have my ways!”
Glancing back to the message, the young knight haplessly tossed it to the lad.
“If this act is to do anything but to teach you what NOT to do, so be it. Humor thyself and send word that I will be in attendance at this masquerade of love.”
“Y. . .Yes my lord! You won't be sorry for thy actions, nor will thy heart.”
With that, the boy took effort in ensuring word was sent to the far off land.
“Silly, silly lad. One day will he harshly discover that true love is not a tool of deceit but an instrument, plucked gently like a lair. Love is achieved only by fate, by chance! Not by silly gimmicks or games such as this,” mumbled the knight while undressing his horse. “Though this fate has left my heart torn forever, I pray that Cupid will be kind to his.”
Finally, the day of the great feast came. All of the village's finest chefs and multitude of servants attentively prepared the occasion. Bellows of trumpets declared the arrival of each dashing knight, a sound that continued filling the beautiful spring day, as colorful banners welcoming the guests flowed gently in the breeze.
“A good knight . . . a fine knight . . . a so-so knight . . . MY, ANOTHER good knight,” stated the queen while peeking at the entourage below.
“Mother! I wish you would quit thy childish way. Thou are acting as a young peasant girl!” the princess said while adjusting the dress's bustle.
“Child, you must see what harvest we have acquired! Surely, Cupid will find favor amongst one of these most dashing, glorious knights.”
“With my luck, Cupid has parted far from this land or has maybe sprained an arm. Here mother, help me with these ornaments.”
Leaning toward the princess, then taking one last loo
k at the parade below, the queen comes to the princess's side.
“To be of your years once again my dear,” sighed the queen. “To be of your years.”
“Oh mother . . . if father were to hear such talk,” giggled the girl.
“Royal gallery, the Honorable King Jacob and Queen Raina, lords of the land of Ponder. All bow and give glory!” proclaimed the King's head steward as cannon trumpets shouted in unison. At that moment, the King and his queen slowly appeared before the galley of knights, priests, handmaids, stewards and servants, all of whom were genuflecting upon the royal sight. Within the center of the large room was set an elaborate table arrayed with the finest foods from all across the land. The banners of village colonies within the realm of Ponder draped the high cathedral ceiling above. The royal pair made way to the head of the banquet setting, queen sitting first, followed by King Jacob. The large assembly returned to standing with great anticipation of the entrance of the Princess. Suddenly, the cannon horns sounded once again as the head steward began to speak.
“Attention, gracious King Jacob, glorious queen Raina, and subjects of the royal gallery. His most beautiful, fair daughter. The princess of this land Ponder. Bow to honor her majesty, the Princess Lenee.”
Together the crowd fell again to one knee as the horns resounded. From the entrance appeared in all her splendor, the beautiful Princess Lenee, her auburn hair flowing against her fair complexion. Daisies lined her headdress and ornaments of rubies and emeralds draped upon her neck. Many a knight looked sheepishly toward the lady and found shortness of breath. Some peered at each other conveying a sense of competition for her love. The princess slowly ascended to the table and sat at the right side of her father. Once seated, the King began to speak to the crowd.
“My loving queen, most beautiful daughter, fellow knights, priests, and occupants of this great land of Ponder, we gather to celebrate the start of a blessed spring. To thank God for the blessings of this land in which we reside. On this occasion, I ask that we also pay homage to these fine knights who line this table, whose daring battles and honorable code show promise for all the land. Without these great soldiers, life's blessings would be few. I raise my cup in honor of your service.”
The entire gallery followed suit with the King's toast.
“And now before you, partake in this grand feast. Let not one man leave this day in fast. Enjoy, everyone!”
Once the king ended his address, the minstrels began amid clattering dishes and conversation. Between bites, each knight attempted to hold the princess's attention by stories of bravery and valor, hoping each word would find favor in her deep emerald eyes.
“My lady, on way to your father's land, I not only slew a beast but also helped an old woman with her load,” said one.
“That sounds righteous, my dear brother knight; but not only did I too slew a beast and helped an old woman, I also gave homage at a local orphanage,” boasted another.
“My, my. The Lord must be pleased by such works,” said the princess, blushing from the attractions.
Wondering of his master's silence, James decided to sneak up to his knights' side at the table.
“Master,” whispered James. “You have only continued eating while those amongst you speak of their journeys. Have thou not found favor in such beauty so to also share your tales of valor?”
“Hush boy! I need not attempt such a battle as the one before me. Let these poor fools find deceit on their own. My heart has become too weary for such a war,” returned the knight while motioning the young lad away.
Noticing the two in conversation, Princess Lenee began to address Maxwell directly.
“Does thou have no stories of bravery to tell, young knight? If so, share with this fine audience.”
James slowly backed up to the other stewards, being glared at by his lord the entire distance.
“Young knight, I ask of thee. Dost thou not have such tales of honor, or is the food before thee of better interest?”
Amid laughter from the gallery, the knight looked up to the princess. His eyes met hers and the beauty she beheld. He felt his heart skip. It had been years since the strangeness had ever affected his soul such as it were at this encounter. His heart seemed full of a sort of anticipation which he had never truly known.
“Knight,” bellowed the king, “Dost thou find it improper to address my daughter's questions?”
“Na, no, great King Jacob,” stammered the knight. Being of quick wit, Maxwell attempted to save face among the ranks around him. “Your Lord, I didn't want to embarrass my fellow knights with my own tales of success. If only my days were as slow as their own, then life would be much grander.”
“Oh then,” said Princess Lenee. “Please, share with us your stories of dragon-slaying, battle, heroism, and the like.”
Feeling guilty of his master's new found predicament, James hastily returned to his knight's side as if to deliver an urgent message. Sir Maxwell quickly rose from the table.
“Forgive me my lord, fair queen, lovely princess. My steward has informed me of a dire emergency beckoning immediate response!”
“Will you need the services of these fellow knights? We have the treasure of the land before us,” said the king.
“Na, no my lord. I need not take them away from this most bounteous feast. But I do wish to thank you for such a glorious visit.”
Once saying this, the knight and steward left to their waiting horses.
“James?” asked the knight. “You know how the law speaks upon those who bear false witness?”
“Yes, master?”
“Well, just checking!” smirked the knight as the two rode out of the village.
That Most Precious Gift Page 1
