Shifting Sands by J L STUART

Author:J L STUART [Stuart, J L]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: J.L.STUART

9

It promised to be another hot day. Mariette de Crespigni, the daughter of local nobleman Baron Robert de Crespigni, set out on horseback with her friends to spend the day at a secluded lake in the valley below her fortress home. She lived like an eagle atop a mountain peak. In fact, her father had been referred to as La Buse, the buzzard, with his hooked nose and his way of descending swiftly and mercilessly on his enemies. The girls planned to wash, swim and have fun, grateful to get away from the stuffy, hot village and fortress life.

The soldiers garrisoned there also felt cooped up, for the place was becoming unbearable. It was beginning to have a brooding quality, but they made the most of it by taking the horses down to the river below and exercising, checking their arms or flirting with the local wenches at the well and the inn.

The five maidens rode, talking and laughing among themselves, and discussed the various beaux who visited the fortress, in particular the young Phillipe de Boisson.

In the opposite direction, three men were making their way on ponies along the winding track that led down into the canyon and the river bed. Two young men and an older man. Guillaume, one of the younger men, began to sing to his vielle and the other, Arnaud, accompanied him on the jew’s harp. Thus they made their way until they came to the lake and there beside some trees the two young men stripped off and sported in the cool, refreshing water, shouting and horsing about.

They got out and lay a while in the sun, which was nigh overhead. Then Guillaume stood up and walked around the shore, picking up flat stones and skittering them across the surface to see how many leaps they’d make. He began to sing. His clear voice shone out and carried far in the dry, still air. He sang in the local tongue and the old man, who was his father, listened with joy, for his son had the gift.

Arnaud, his friend, took to the water again and swam on his back, enjoying kicking and propelling himself backwards.

Mariette and her friends had heard the singing, and she wondered who it could be. A troubadour? They couldn’t see anyone as they neared the lake and the owner of the voice appeared to be hidden but his, it must be a he, voice was so clear and it rang out. It was filled with the joy of life and sang to her of love and distances, of nature and beauty and something stirred in her memory.

She also heard the splashing, and a cloud passed over her face. Her friends knew how her anger could be. As they turned the corner on the track, they surprised the others there at the lake. Two men! Arnaud was still in the water and the other, who was much older, was at the lake’s edge washing his feet and face. He saw the five maidens approaching and quickly motioned to Arnaud.

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