Highlander's Stolen Destiny: A Medieval Scottish Historical Romance Book by Alisa Adams

Author:Alisa Adams [Adams, Alisa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-05-06T16:00:00+00:00

15

The Tournament

* * *

Windsor Castle, England, February, 1347

* * *

“Welcome to the final day of the joust held in honor of King Edward the Third and his victories in both France and England…” cried the master of ceremonies from his position close to the royal enclosure.

A huge cheer erupted from the thousands of spectators who had come from far and wide to attend these festivities. They had grown far larger than the king had originally intended. Instead of only a few knights and noblemen, one hundred and fifty-four lords and seven-hundred and six knights were present. With them had come eighteen thousand horses for the ten days of jousting and the other amusements held at the king’s expense.

Skye looked about nervously. She tried to find Brice and his father. They were nowhere to be seen.

“Can ye see Brice and the laird?” she asked Mary. “We have been here for days, and there still is not a sight of them.” Despite their attempts, they had not managed to gain an audience with the king. Fortunately, they had found lodging in the town that burst at the seams with people.

“No… I supposed they would be with the king, but they are not there,” said Mary, shaking her head and looking at the English royal enclosure that was an elaborate affair of colorful cloth and ornate seats.

“I doubt they have been allowed out of their chambers,” said Elizabeth.

“What makes ye say that?” asked Skye.

Elizabeth shrugged. “They are prisoners, are they not?”

“Yes, but the word is out that King Edward hosts them like friends at Windsor.” Skye scanned the vast field located close to the castle that stood proudly and impregnable. There were tents in various flaming colors dotting the turf; it all resembled something out of an Arthurian fairy tale. The weather was cold, more so than usual. White vapor hovered above the spectators as they breathed. Clouds bedecked the sky and almost looked as if they were about to disgorge themselves of a hefty bounty of snow.

“I only pray that the rumors are not true that Brice will compete this day,” said Mary, looking concerned.

“Trust him to commit himself to something so foolish,” said Skye, looking cross. She knew her lover’s pride well. The notion of him partaking in the joust was, to her mind, not an outlandish concept. It would be just like him to want to prove his mettle in such an event.

“We will discover their whereabouts soon enough,” said Elizabeth.

“Behold, the King of England is about to address the crowd,” said Sir Percival. The brave knight never left Elizabeth’s side. He was like a shadow on a sunny day.

Mary had often wondered whether her sister and the knight were lovers. Occasional fond glances and ones of lesser sympathy when he had praised Skye’s pleasing appearance in the tavern gave away their affection for one another. In a sense, Mary wished such a thing for Elizabeth. Love is good no matter how it transpires, she thought.

The king’s deep baritone halted her ruminations.

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