It pleased Simon to see a familiar face among the sea of humanity squeezing into the cramped but comfortable inn. Seated at a large table was Lucy, a former maid who once worked at Fairfax Manor. When Simon recognized her, he immediately took it upon himself to serve her and her family the best wines in the house along with a delicious morning repast.
"Ah, Lucy," said Simon as he directed Alice to fetch more bread and cheese, "you haven't been to this tiny hamlet in so many years. You look well. I assume this is your family."
Lucy Rivère, a petite blue-eyed blonde of about twenty-four, graciously greeted Simon. Of all the people in Ninegates, she considered the Inskeeps as special friends. While most of her memories of this town and her brief tenure at Fairfax Manor were not all that pleasant, it was the occasional journey to the Nine Raven that gave her a much needed break from Lord Fairfax and his minions. She never told Simon nor Alice of her rape and torture at the hands of her employer and his hired thugs, and why should she burden them with such. Besides, she promised Griselda she wouldn't tell a soul, nor would she reveal her REAL reasons for returning to Ninegates.
Smiling pleasantly, Lucy introduced her family. "Simon, this is my husband, Emery. He is a trademan in Wellbrooke, where we live now. And these are my children: Rosamund who is eight and Dreu who is five."
Emery Rivère, a handsome gentleman with equally gleaming blond hair and steel gray eyes, loftily greeted Simon. The children, to Simon, were the most beautiful he'd seen in a long time. Both had their parents' blond good looks, with Rosamund sporting her father's gray eyes and Dreu blessed with his mother's blue.
"I trust," said Simon, "you have found your rooms satisfactory. As you know, Miss Lucy, I've always said to–"
At this Lucy laughed and repeated the familiar line. "...Treat the customer as if he is the King himself." Then, "Oh Simon, the rooms are perfect. I just wish I'd get to see Lady Fairfax before we leave. She was always exceedingly kind to me."
Simon smiled, saying, "I suppose you will see her ladyship at the tournament. Will you be staying for the wedding as well?"
Lucy shook her head. "No, not for the actual ceremony since we were not invited. But we are to come 'round to the manor this evening, at Lady Fairfax's invitation, to share in the post-wedding festivities."
Now the tavern filled to capacity, all the customers awaiting the appointed hour to move to the open field on Theodoric's property where the tournament was to be held. So many people here, thought Alice, I wonder if we will run out of libation and food. Oh well...But where is Mirinda? Medra said she'd be here with her husband. For once I'd like to see the look on Edgard's face when he lays eyes on Mirinda and her fabulously rich husband.
Alice's reverie was interrupted by a couple of boisterous men entering the tavern. They were bookies, taking last minute bets on who would win the tournament. At last count, odds were three to one in favor of Edgard, with wider margins for the competitors. No way, said the majority of bettors, that these pathetic excuses for knightly athletes dare to dethrone Edgard, the current champion. But there was a last minute entry who seemed Edgard's closest competitor, and threat to the Blue Knight's long winning streak.
The first man, Henry, a lanky likable fellow, informed the crowd that, "An Italian gent, calls himself Franco, has entered just moments ago. Edgard doesn't know this man and says Franco will be, as he puts it, easy pickings."
Raucous laughter all around with Henry's partner, a short chubby guy named Auguste, merrily collected money from the betting people. Hmm...with Edgard as odds on favorite, and he's sure to win, there won't be much payout, thus giving the bookies a solid profit.
Outside the tavern, Archel and Herman waited while the bookies collected bets. Edgard's two henchmen hadn't gotten over their bitterness towards their companion. It still brewed, the men's resentment over Edgard's garnering glory and booty while they did much of Theodoric's dirty work. They also felt it was time to expose Edgard for the fake he is. But how? Archel pointed out that the mysterious last-minute entrant, Franco, could be a serious rival. So, when Henry and Auguste exited the tavern, Archel approached the bookies and placed their bets on Franco. Henry looked oddly at the man, saying, "Do you know what you're doing? You're betting against your own man, Archel. Why?"
Archel shrugged, saying, "Call it a hunch, but this Franco could very well oust Edgard out the running. But...Well, also call it a nice sum you'll make when Edgard wins."
°°°°°°
In the open field near her cottage, Medra gathered wildflowers in preparaton for her special guests. The company had yet to arrive, but Medra wasn't concerned. Word sent ahead, via Samira, assured Medra that her sister and brother-in-law would arrive in time for the games. But time wasn't on Medra's side, as the two other crucial pieces of her and the dragons' complicated plot against Theodoric and Edgard were no where to be found. Sure, when Medra, under the guise of 'Maribel', virtually forced Paul and Jamie Morrow to take that trip back in time. But when the smoke cleared, Medra found herself standing at the entrance of the dragons' lair. Where were Paul and Jamie? Right now, the Morrows, Samira later assured, were safely tucked away in a non-descript cottage not far from Fairfax Manor. The Morrows, explained Samira, had not one inkling where they were, both assuming that 'Astrid Håmasko' would show her face. Actually, it was Morib, in the guise of an old caretaker, who greeted the 21st Century travelers, telling them that he will find Ms. Håmasko, but they will have to give him the utmost cooperation or Astrid may 'fly the coop'.
Well, thought Medra wiht some trepidation, I certainly hope Samira and Morib know what they are doing. And I trust neither Paul nor Jamie will suspect any, as they say in their century, 'funny business.' Nothing can be left to chance, and our very future depends on how we play these final trump cards. Samira and Griselda suggest we wait until the wedding, that way all parties involved will feel the full shock...
As soon as Medra returned to her cottage, she was surprisinged to see her guests had already arrived. The carriage, with its fine appointments of real glass windows, comfortable leather seats, and regal team of two perfectly matched white horses, firmly attested to Fabian Martel's great wealth. Mirinda certainly did very well for herself during her period of forced exile. In a way, Medra became increasingly ashamed of her modest, cramped dwelling. Hardly the thing to house a rich, refined gentleman and his lady. But Mirinda wrote ahead, explaining that she and Fabian didn't mind the spartan accomodations.
Actually, according to Fabian, it was just the thing – a perfect hideaway for the couple lest Theodoric or his hired goons get wind that Mirinda had returned to Ninegates after all these years.
But nothing prepared Medra when she entered her cottage; the interior looked decidedly different. Surely, there was the fireplace with its pots and cauldron, the shelves of magical tomes and potions. But, somehow, the interior seemed larger, more grand. On the table laid a morning feast fit for a king. So many good, delicious things Medra could never afford: imported French cheeses, wines, brandies, teas made from fresh herbs, fresh breads, fruits of the season, silver bowls filled with spiced nutmeats. This was nothing Medra nor her sister were accustomed to, and she wondered if Fabian had brought along some comforts of home.
"Thank our draconic friend, dear sister," came the greeting as Mirinda descended the stairs. Medra looked up to see her sister, a lovely young woman who she hadn't seen in nearly five years, approaching her with open arms. In a flash, the siblings embraced, weeping with joy and relief that at last they could be reunited. Not just any reunion, mind you, but a special day for exposing Ninegate's dirty little secrets.
"Darling Mirinda," said Medra through her tears, "never again shall we be apart, from this day onwards."
Mirinda, still embracing her sister, suddenly remembered, "Oh, Medra, you have yet to meet Fabian. He has taken a walk but will be back in time for the games."
Medra, herself remembering HOW her cottage seemed to take on a magical transformation, released her sister, asking, "You said Samira is responsible for enlarging my cottage, and all this delightful repast. I haven't seen our draconic friends all day."
"Medra," replied Mirinda, "when we arrived, Samira was here and told us that your place could use – and these are her words – some sprucing up for important guests..."
She suddenly burst out laughing because it was all so funny. "I never thoguth of myself as 'important', but since my marriage to Fabian, people look at me differently."
"It is because you've married one of the wealthiest, most powerful merchants in all England."
"Yes, Fabian is quite influential, but kind and sweet, nothing at all like his brother-in-law."
"Brother-in-law?" Now Medra was a little more than curious. She wondered about the brother Griselda mentioned, and if Fabian is said sibling. He was cheated, by Theodoric, of a lucrative business deal.
"Mirinda," she asked, pressing for an answer, "is Fabian Lady Fairfax's brother?"
Mirinda replied in all honesty, and with some defensiveness, "Yes he is, but please do not hold that against me. I hadn't planned on falling in love with him. Fabian is most attentive to me, and he honors and respects me, so unlike how Theodoric regards his lady. Griselda wrote to Fabian, explaining what was happening in Ninegates since I left. Theodoric is up to his old tricks, and he's including Edgard and those two other awful men..."
"And," said Medra, "to think that Edgard, once he is married to Lady Pavia, will be even more powerful, more brutal. But, dear sister, there has been much happening these past few days. I feel Edgard will suffer a very nasty fall come this evening. Already there is discord in the air, for Edgard's very minions do not share the joy of their companion's good fortune."
Medra went on to explain how Griselda overheard Archel and Herman wax bitterly over how Edgard earns the spoils while they do most of the dirty work. Theodoric hadn't rewarded them with the hand of any worthy maiden, no lands, no titles. Edgard, by virture of marrying into the House of Fairfax, is set to gain properties, a coined title bestowed upon him, and a an untold wealth of privileges. Archel and Herman get nothing, but, according to Griselda, Theodoric promised them permanent places as "official guardians and sentinels". Which is, loosely translated, nothing more than glorifyed gophers and henchmen. Griselda, via her many loyal eavesdropping servants, learned that Edgard's companions have already betted against their knightly friend.
Mirinda said, "We overheard this on the way into town. They say an Italian challenger entered just this morning. He goes by the name Franco, and he may be Edgard's only serious competition. Actually, I'd like to see Edgard get his comeuppance. Let him suffer utter defeat, and on his wedding day. Oh! My sister, so many times I wished never to see that man's face again. But now, especially since Fabian knows the truth, and that Griselda is on our side, I can face Theodoric, Edgard and the others who hurt and abused us over the years."
°°°°°°
In a remote glade deep in Foxdale Wood, Griselda waited for what seemed an eternity. She had hoped Fergus would be here as the pair had agreed to meet in secret. Already Griselda grew uneasy over her many prolonged absences. What if Theodoric finds out his wife has not taken to her chambers 'with a terrific headache' but stolen away to the woods to be with a longlost lover? It was a chance she had to take. Besides, her husband was entirely too wrapped up in entertaining his many aristocratic friends. The upcoming tournament and wedding monopolized all Theodoric and Edgard's time, and Griselda was thankful for that. Still there was the chance either Archel or Herman could, on their patrols, pass through even this remote spot. But what did it matter now?
It was almost over – Theodoric, Edgard, Archel, and Herman are moments within suffering the worst downfall. And it pleased Griselda that Lucy, now happily married and with children of her own, had arrived in Ninegates. Not too many outside the peasant and servant class knew Lucy nor the very reasons why she abruptly left town, and that secret was only known to Lucy and Griselda. How much Griselda looked forward to Ninegates' citizenry calling for Theodoric's head once his and his minions' atrocities are exposed. And she could look forward to a new life with her true love, Fergus. But Griselda withheld other, more profound, secrets from her husband, secrets that would have killed him outright if he ever found out.
Knowing that time was getting away from her, and that she would surely be missed by Theodoric, Griselda cursed her luck. Fergus had yet to show, and Griselda was getting worried. It wasn't like him to miss a secret tryst, not especially since their complicated, far-reaching plot was this close to success. The tournament was slated to begin within a few hours, and Theodoric expected his wife at his side. Then he'd send those awful men to look for me, once he discovers I'm no where in the house, not in my rooms....
With a sigh of dejection, she prepared to leave, not really relishing sitting next to Theodoric nor cheering Edgard to victory. Suddenly, she heard a faint rustling sound in the brush. Fergus?
Alarmed and not wanting to call attention, Griselda quietly concealed herself within the thick foliage. If it was an animal, then Griselda was prepared as she brought along her dagger. But such a small weapon is hardly a match against a bear or other larger, fiercer beasts. Her heart beating fast, her palms sweaty, her stomach contracting in knots of fear, Griselda waited for whoever or whatever to leave. However, the rustling grew louder, closer. Then the creature showed itself, the massive head raising above the towering trees. With a sigh of relief, Griselda recognized this beast at once, for there was no mistaking the glistening ebony scaled beauty, the lavender eyes, the proud visage.
"Samira," she said, emerging from her hiding place as the dragon came into view, "I was waiting for Fergus. Why are you here?"
The draconic beauty looked at Griselda with peculiarity. How did she manage this?, Samira wondered. Shaking her head, the dragon replied, "Fergus is away at the moment, finalizing our plot to bring down your husband. I came here in search of you. I know about your and Fergus' stolen moments, and I don't have any qualms about such. Griselda, I had hoped to catch you here – alone – before the tournamnet. I know you must return to Theodoric, but I need to know once and for all..."
Griselda nodded, now fully aware that Samira partially uncovered that secret she kept hidden from Theodoric all these years. With some resolution, and relief, she said to Samira, "It is true, dear sister. I am Evelyn, and there is so much to tell you. The time I spent with both Lawrence Morrow and Theodoric opened my eyes to the fundamental reasons why both men deserve their fates. And I wanted to be here for my son. I know Paul is here, and he must be protected at all costs for his human sister Jamie may be the end of him...And of us, if truth be known..."
To Be Continued...Go to Chapter 11
Copyright©2003, 2004 by Pepper Shriver*. All Rights Reserved.
*My pen name :-)