Today we are going to a Homeschool Conference (If you click on the link and look at the picture you may just be able to spot me. I'm quite difficult to discern but I'm in the front row and the two people to my left -- my sister and my Mum -- have my two little brothers sitting on their laps, oh I'm also wearing a skirt if that helps...see if you can find me. It's like 'Where's Wally', just 'Where's Jane' instead! Sorry to say, but I think your chances are low.) , so I won't be hanging around for long.
Yesterday I had a nice/busy day writing, packing and helping everyone else get ready, and today everyone's feeling nice and relaxed, no one's stressed at all...okay, maybe that's an under-exaggeration but only just in my case. :D
I'll stop jabbering on now and let you get to the story. Option one got it this time, with 4 votes. Option two got 3 votes and option three got 1. Thank you everyone for commenting and I've considered being mean and particularly thanking Zach but I decided not to; aren't I nice?
I raised my eyebrows, wondering if I was supposed to be struck with terror as she spoke the name. I’d never heard of a ‘Yerra Hacaz’ before, and that was saying something as – being a De Corlette – I’d heard and met my fair share of knights and noblemen.
Before I could ask further questions the door behind us was thrown open and two guards entered. “Lady Louise, your father requires you,” one said, after a frowning glance at Maree.
“Oh,” I replied. “Sorry.” I turned awkwardly to Maree, “I’d best be going now.”
“Sure,” she answered tightly, barely looking in my direction.
The guards ushered me out the door, locking it behind them. I hoped that they wouldn’t mention to my father where I’d been, because I had no doubt that he would not be amused.
My father was in his private meeting rooms, sitting behind his large desk piled with official papers. “Ahh, Louise,” he said, looking up as I came in. “I would like you to meet our guest.”
He waved me to a position behind his chair as the door opened and a footman announced: “Sir Creighton of Sean Iister.”
A brawny knight stepped into the room, his surcoat adorned with a glowing red Manticore as I had formerly noticed. “My lord,” he murmured, bowing his head to my father, then turning to me, he stepped forward, covering the distance between us in one stride. He placed a knightly kiss on my hand, bowing low, “And you must be the renowned Lady Louise De Corlette?”
“Yes, Sir Knight,” I replied.
Lord De Corlette rose. “Please take a seat Sir Creighton, it is a pleasure to meet you,” he said.
Sir Creighton obligingly sat on the large and elaborate chair in front of my father’s desk. “I have heard much of your fame in my many travels,” he remarked flatteringly.
My father responded with a modest nod. “Why, thank you Sir Creighton. I’m afraid I cannot say the same of you,” he added.
Sir Creighton shook his head sadly. “No, not many have heard of me. I am but a traveling knight of no particular importance.”
As he said the words I got the distinct feeling that something was not quite right. Most knights like this Sir Creighton always tried to remind people of the great things they’d done. There always were the humble few, but they were generally the ones that everyone already knew what they’d done.
I jerked back slightly as a loud crash came from somewhere above us, I looked up at the ceiling, almost expecting to see a large crack. My father laughed. “One of the servants must be feeling clumsy today,” he said offhandedly, before returning to his conversation with the strange knight.
I scrutinized Sir Creighton as he talked, trying to see past the knightly mask. Maree seemed to think he was some kind of evil person, but the knight before me was the height of courtesy and chivalry. But things like that can be faked, I thought, but maybe there is no fake and Maree is crazy after all.
A second thump from upstairs brought an end to the conversation for a moment. My father frowned up at the ceiling, and then continued, “Yes, anyway. Lord Grindlevalch has been quite...”
I stopped listening again, wondering why all the servants were suddenly feeling clumsy and had started falling down stairs. Quieter thuds began to reach us, and they continued at even intervals, accompanied by faint voices, that could be interpreted as shouts.
My father steadfastly ignored these noises, but Sir Creighton became increasingly curious as to their origin and I noticed him carefully manoeuvring to conversation in the direction of captives. Eventually he went with a straight out question. “Do you have any prisoners, perchance?”
“Yes we do, as it happens,” my father returned, unaware of the glint in his companion’s eyes. “A girl actually. Strange thing, quite mad.”
“A girl?” Sir Creighton asked. Being practiced at concealing emotions as I am, I could immediately see his barely veiled interest.
“Yes. Brown, curly hair, not terribly tall, dreadful clothes. Know her?” I almost felt like I could slap my father, something was definitely wrong, and spurting out information about a prisoner wasn’t going to make things better.
Sir Creighton shook his head. “No, never heard of her,” he replied.
I narrowed my eyes, even a half blind person would be able to see that the knight wasn’t being entirely truthful. Apparently my father was more than half blind (figuratively speaking, not literally).
“She was making trouble in the market place this morning, and when my soldiers brought her here we discovered that she is most certainly a lunatic,” father continued.
“Yes, quite so,” Sir Creighton said. Suddenly he seemed to notice that I was watching him and he raised his eyes to mind. His hazel eyes were shallow, faked; like the eyes of someone who has much to hide. He looked back to my father, “If you will excuse me I must just have a quick word with one of my men.”
“Certainly, Sir Creighton,” my father allowed.
The Knight rose and strode to the door, disappearing for a moment. The low murmur of voices came from the anteroom and then our guest returned.
“Perhaps some refreshments?” my father asked.
Sir Creighton nodded, his talk with his soldiers seemed to have cheered him up a good deal, and he wore a pleased smile instead of his former frown, I wasn’t sure which was more disconcerting. A footman was sent for tea and the conversation droned on.
I actually jumped as a ground shaking crash exploded above us. This time even the etiquette practiced Lord De Corlette could ignore it no longer.
“Louise, perhaps you might ask one of the soldiers to investigate the source of the noise,” my father suggested calmly.
“Yes father,” I answered, hurrying to the door.
When I was out of sight of the footmen standing by the doorway I started running. I had no wish to call the guards, I was going to find out what was going on myself. Perhaps I should have called them, things would have ended up quite differently if I had. But I guess the ‘Adventuring Spirit’ was taking stronger hold every minute.
I ran along the long hall, heading toward the noise, which came from the direction of Maree’s quarters. I burst in the door, almost forgetting to unlock it before I came crashing through.
“I don’t beleeve thees!” Maree roared at no one in particular, kicking the wall repeatedly.
“Maree?” I asked hesitantly.
She spun around at my voice. She stopped kicking the wall and just looked at me. “You’ve a met ‘im theen?”
“Yes, but his name is Sir Creighton, not Yeroa Hecars or whatever it was,” I said uncertainly.
Maree closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. “What eef he were lying?”
I didn’t reply. The reason being that...
***
1. I’d just become cross eyed, staring at the point of a sword that hovered just in front of my nose.
2. I was unwelcomely interrupted by an unexpected tap on my shoulder.
3. A tapestry on the wall crumpled to the floor and a gaping hole was revealed behind it.
***
Please comment away, although I probably won't see and publish your comments until Monday. But why should that stop you? I'll have a nice 'welcome back' pile of comments I hope...
Fare Thee Well!