By Fire and By Sword by Elaine Coffman

Author:Elaine Coffman
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Medieval
Publisher: 0
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

In trouble to be troubl’d

Is to have your trouble doubl’d.

—Daniel Defoe (1660-1731),

English novelist and journalist.

The Farther Adventures of

Robinson Crusoe (1719).

It was almost noon and the sun had already burned the dew from the road that led to Calais. Down this dry, dusty road came a weary cavalcade, sitting astride well-lathered horses. The noble but dust-covered group of travelers, composed of three men, two women and several guards in the service of the Duc de Bourbon, came trotting down the dirt road and turned onto the cobbled streets of the city.

The travelers caught the eye of many of the shoppers on the street, for there was something both majestic and melancholy about the well-dressed group.

The neat figure of the Duc de Bourbon was a mirror of elegance in his tan breeches and perfectly fitted chocolate-brown coat, all quite indicative of his affluence. He rode a fine gray gelding with a spirited gait, and sat well in the Flemish saddle padded with blue velvet, with enclosed stirrups that covered the top part of his boots.

The Comte de Lorraine was dressed in brown breeches, with a dark blue coat. He was not as tall as his friend, but well put together, and in possession of an extremely attractive face, in which dark, alert eyes took note of everything they passed. His saddle was similar to that of the duc, and his horse was a good-natured chestnut, with a smooth gait.

The Vicomte de Bignan rode a black horse that began to prance sideways and nervously champ his bit when they entered the city. The vicomte did not seem to notice, neither did he see many of the women on the street casting interested glances at the tall man with the princely face and blond hair.

Kenna and Josette rode side by side, one on a bay and the other on a sorrel, their quiet repose the embodiment of the beauty of womanhood, with a refinement that put them well beyond the attainment of the average man on the street.

Yet, the contrast between the two was striking, one dark and exotic, with black hair, long and straight; the other fair of skin and face, with rosy-red curls tucked beneath the hood of a blue cape.

They turned down a street that sloped toward the harbor and clattered over the cobblestones before they drew up in front of an inn, whose sign swayed in the breeze, but not so much that one could not read the name, Dessin’s Inn.

When the party stopped, two of the duc’s men, who had ridden ahead, came outside to inform them that rooms had been procured for everyone.

A stable boy came out to help with the horses, and one of the soldiers told him to take only the horses of the women. “Leave the other horses here, for now,” he said.

The Comte de Lorraine and Monsieur le Vicomte had already dismounted to help Josette and Kenna out of their saddles.

Jules lifted Kenna from the saddle, and held her for a moment when she was on the ground.

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