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Authors: Shanti Krishnamurty
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he will know which rooms are ours and can direct the footmen.”
“Thank you, Alan. You are correct,” Mother said. “Marian, follow me.”
Marian obeyed instantly. However ugly the castle was on the outside, she was eager to see what waited within its walls.
“Lady Marian, Lady Beatrix, I am so pleased you arrived so swiftly.” The sheriff appeared at Marian’s elbow as soon as she stepped down from the carriage. “What do you think of the castle so far?”
She lowered her eyes but answered his question honestly. “It does not look like I expected it to.”
The sheriff laughed; a bellowing sound. Nearby guards glanced at them before continuing their duties. “The inside is vastly different. Prince John has ensured none of his guests will suffer any discomfort in his care. Let me show you.” He tightened his grip on her elbow.
“Sheriff, we would prefer to be shown our quarters,” Mother said, “though your attentiveness to our comfort has not gone unnoticed.” She glanced down at the sheriff’s grip on Marian. “Marian, dear, your hand is rather dirty. I think a washing is in order before you soil the good sheriff’s shirt, do not you?”
The sheriff grimaced and released Marian. “May I have the pleasure of escorting you both indoors?” He offered his arm to Mother instead, who took it immediately.
“Of course. Come along, Marian.”
“As I was saying,” the sheriff motioned and two guards pulled the enormous wooden doors leading to the main hall open, “Prince John has spared no expense in his treatment of his loyal subjects.”
There was comfort. Across from Marian, a huge fire blazed in a fireplace that would have easily accommodated four men standing side by side and three deep. Tapestries hung on every wall, clashing in swirls of color that made her head ache. Everywhere she looked there were men and women, each more elaborately gowned, bedecked and jeweled than herself. Marian’s hand inadvertently rose to the back of her neck and the hasty knot she had tied her hair into.
“Do not fret, Marian,” even Mother’s voice was welcome amid all the chatter. “It is not seemly. Sheriff, would you see what has become of my husband? He left us outside saying he would search for you. I presume you did not see him?”
The man shook his head. “No, but I can send someone to search.” He snapped his fingers and a small page came running. “Find Alan a Dale. He just arrived and will be carrying a lute. He will also be inquiring about me.”
The little boy nodded, looking solemn and far older than his years, which Marian guessed was about seven. “Alan a Dale, who carries a lute.” He scampered off.
“A trainee,” the sheriff said. “I am sorry you had to see such manners.” He smiled at Marian. “Do not let his lack of discipline form your opinions of how the castle runs. Prince John is very strict, but fair.”
“Training has to start somewhere,” Marian said. “I saw nothing wrong with his manners.”
“We are grateful for your insights,” Mother interrupted. “It has been a long time since I have visited court, and I can see how things have changed with King Richard’s departure.”
“Yes, the king was a good man,” the sheriff looked almost sick at mention of him. “But he is fighting a Holy Crusade, and left his kingdom in very capable hands.”
Mother arched one eyebrow as she took in the hordes of people, the raucous laughter and the dancing that even now was taking place. “Yes, I can see that. Prince John has done an admirable job of following in his brother’s footsteps and taking care of his kingdom.”
Chapter Ten:
The sheriff narrowed his eyes. “Are you by chance a sympathizer of Hood, Lady Beatrix?”
Mother stiffened. “How dare you question my loyalty to the crown! The du Luc family has always been above reproach.” She removed her hand from the sheriff’s arm. “Marian, I think we would be best served to search for your
“Thank you, Alan. You are correct,” Mother said. “Marian, follow me.”
Marian obeyed instantly. However ugly the castle was on the outside, she was eager to see what waited within its walls.
“Lady Marian, Lady Beatrix, I am so pleased you arrived so swiftly.” The sheriff appeared at Marian’s elbow as soon as she stepped down from the carriage. “What do you think of the castle so far?”
She lowered her eyes but answered his question honestly. “It does not look like I expected it to.”
The sheriff laughed; a bellowing sound. Nearby guards glanced at them before continuing their duties. “The inside is vastly different. Prince John has ensured none of his guests will suffer any discomfort in his care. Let me show you.” He tightened his grip on her elbow.
“Sheriff, we would prefer to be shown our quarters,” Mother said, “though your attentiveness to our comfort has not gone unnoticed.” She glanced down at the sheriff’s grip on Marian. “Marian, dear, your hand is rather dirty. I think a washing is in order before you soil the good sheriff’s shirt, do not you?”
The sheriff grimaced and released Marian. “May I have the pleasure of escorting you both indoors?” He offered his arm to Mother instead, who took it immediately.
“Of course. Come along, Marian.”
“As I was saying,” the sheriff motioned and two guards pulled the enormous wooden doors leading to the main hall open, “Prince John has spared no expense in his treatment of his loyal subjects.”
There was comfort. Across from Marian, a huge fire blazed in a fireplace that would have easily accommodated four men standing side by side and three deep. Tapestries hung on every wall, clashing in swirls of color that made her head ache. Everywhere she looked there were men and women, each more elaborately gowned, bedecked and jeweled than herself. Marian’s hand inadvertently rose to the back of her neck and the hasty knot she had tied her hair into.
“Do not fret, Marian,” even Mother’s voice was welcome amid all the chatter. “It is not seemly. Sheriff, would you see what has become of my husband? He left us outside saying he would search for you. I presume you did not see him?”
The man shook his head. “No, but I can send someone to search.” He snapped his fingers and a small page came running. “Find Alan a Dale. He just arrived and will be carrying a lute. He will also be inquiring about me.”
The little boy nodded, looking solemn and far older than his years, which Marian guessed was about seven. “Alan a Dale, who carries a lute.” He scampered off.
“A trainee,” the sheriff said. “I am sorry you had to see such manners.” He smiled at Marian. “Do not let his lack of discipline form your opinions of how the castle runs. Prince John is very strict, but fair.”
“Training has to start somewhere,” Marian said. “I saw nothing wrong with his manners.”
“We are grateful for your insights,” Mother interrupted. “It has been a long time since I have visited court, and I can see how things have changed with King Richard’s departure.”
“Yes, the king was a good man,” the sheriff looked almost sick at mention of him. “But he is fighting a Holy Crusade, and left his kingdom in very capable hands.”
Mother arched one eyebrow as she took in the hordes of people, the raucous laughter and the dancing that even now was taking place. “Yes, I can see that. Prince John has done an admirable job of following in his brother’s footsteps and taking care of his kingdom.”
Chapter Ten:
The sheriff narrowed his eyes. “Are you by chance a sympathizer of Hood, Lady Beatrix?”
Mother stiffened. “How dare you question my loyalty to the crown! The du Luc family has always been above reproach.” She removed her hand from the sheriff’s arm. “Marian, I think we would be best served to search for your
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