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Authors: Melanie Dickerson
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forget about him soon enough.” Cristyne looked sad. “Do you have anyone you hope to marry?”
“Me? No, I have no one like that.” She hoped her face didn’t display the truth about her feelings. And it wasn’t as if she hoped to marry Valten. At least, not since she’d grown up and realized how unreasonable that was.
They encountered an older woman with a large cloth-coveredbasket. Gisela and Cristyne each bought one of her buns with gooseberries and honey inside.
While eating, they wandered toward the area where the knights’ pavilions were set up and where some of their horses were tethered, resting until they were required for the remainder of their jousts. Gisela wanted to see Sieger to reassure herself he was unhurt. The steel shaffron protected his head, but the rest of his body was only protected by the cloth caparison that displayed Valten’s coat of arms.
She also hoped Valten’s injury had not been serious. Perhaps she might overhear one of his attendants talking about his condition.
“Oh, my cousin and her family!” Cristyne waved at a girl who was waving back. “Do you mind if I go talk with them?”
“Go on. I will see you in a little while.” Gisela continued on as Cristyne hurried off to join her relatives.
Gisela looked all around, trying to add the scene to her favorite memories — the beautiful colors of the pavilions, the banners and coats of arms of the knights, the lavishness of the decorations. And then there were the dresses of the wealthy women and maidens … Gisela had never seen anything like this tournament. She longed to store up every detail, even though she probably looked like a country bumpkin who had never been in the wider world before.
As she wandered along, she spied Valten’s striped pavilion. She was drawn toward it but continued to look around as she wandered nearer. She could even see Sieger, as he was tethered under a small wooden shelter behind Valten’s tent.
A familiar laugh, shrill and annoying, rang out behind her. It was Irma, she was sure of it. She ducked behind a large barrel before looking behind her. Her stepmother and stepsisters stood a mere thirty feet away.
Chapter
7
Evfemia and Irma stood talking with Rainhilda , their heads together as if they were trying to make sure no one else heard what they were saying.
While they were not looking her way, Gisela turned her back on them and hurried to get out of sight.
Sieger stood near other knights’ horses lined up on the other side of several large tented pavilions. Her stepmother and stepsisters would never go near such an area, so she headed toward him.
As she drew near, a boy who looked about twelve years old approached Sieger’s makeshift stall with a bag in his hand. He was glancing around nervously, holding the bag protectively against his body.
The boy’s odd behavior made Gisela stop and hide behind the first horse. What was he doing lurking near Valten’s destrier? Then, with a deliberate step, he approached Sieger, drew out some green leaves from his bag, and stuffed them into Sieger’s bucket. The boy turned and broke into a run, disappearing behind the horses’ stalls.
Sieger stuck his nose into the bucket, then pulled it out again, snuffling discontentedly.
Gisela hurried forward, holding up her hem so it didn’t get soiled. Once she reached Sieger, she spoke softly to him, rubbinghis nose. He nickered, nodding his head, and nudged her neck. “Hey, boy. Let me see what’s in your feed.”
She bent down and pulled out the green leaves from inside his bucket of oats, and her blood went cold. They were the leaves of a water hemlock plant.
Another young boy, who appeared about the same age as the one who’d placed the water hemlock in Sieger’s bucket, walked toward her from Valten’s tent. “May I help you, fraulein?”
Gisela caught the boy by the arm. “Someone tried to poison Valt — your master’s horse. You must tell him with all haste.” She held up
“Me? No, I have no one like that.” She hoped her face didn’t display the truth about her feelings. And it wasn’t as if she hoped to marry Valten. At least, not since she’d grown up and realized how unreasonable that was.
They encountered an older woman with a large cloth-coveredbasket. Gisela and Cristyne each bought one of her buns with gooseberries and honey inside.
While eating, they wandered toward the area where the knights’ pavilions were set up and where some of their horses were tethered, resting until they were required for the remainder of their jousts. Gisela wanted to see Sieger to reassure herself he was unhurt. The steel shaffron protected his head, but the rest of his body was only protected by the cloth caparison that displayed Valten’s coat of arms.
She also hoped Valten’s injury had not been serious. Perhaps she might overhear one of his attendants talking about his condition.
“Oh, my cousin and her family!” Cristyne waved at a girl who was waving back. “Do you mind if I go talk with them?”
“Go on. I will see you in a little while.” Gisela continued on as Cristyne hurried off to join her relatives.
Gisela looked all around, trying to add the scene to her favorite memories — the beautiful colors of the pavilions, the banners and coats of arms of the knights, the lavishness of the decorations. And then there were the dresses of the wealthy women and maidens … Gisela had never seen anything like this tournament. She longed to store up every detail, even though she probably looked like a country bumpkin who had never been in the wider world before.
As she wandered along, she spied Valten’s striped pavilion. She was drawn toward it but continued to look around as she wandered nearer. She could even see Sieger, as he was tethered under a small wooden shelter behind Valten’s tent.
A familiar laugh, shrill and annoying, rang out behind her. It was Irma, she was sure of it. She ducked behind a large barrel before looking behind her. Her stepmother and stepsisters stood a mere thirty feet away.
Chapter
7
Evfemia and Irma stood talking with Rainhilda , their heads together as if they were trying to make sure no one else heard what they were saying.
While they were not looking her way, Gisela turned her back on them and hurried to get out of sight.
Sieger stood near other knights’ horses lined up on the other side of several large tented pavilions. Her stepmother and stepsisters would never go near such an area, so she headed toward him.
As she drew near, a boy who looked about twelve years old approached Sieger’s makeshift stall with a bag in his hand. He was glancing around nervously, holding the bag protectively against his body.
The boy’s odd behavior made Gisela stop and hide behind the first horse. What was he doing lurking near Valten’s destrier? Then, with a deliberate step, he approached Sieger, drew out some green leaves from his bag, and stuffed them into Sieger’s bucket. The boy turned and broke into a run, disappearing behind the horses’ stalls.
Sieger stuck his nose into the bucket, then pulled it out again, snuffling discontentedly.
Gisela hurried forward, holding up her hem so it didn’t get soiled. Once she reached Sieger, she spoke softly to him, rubbinghis nose. He nickered, nodding his head, and nudged her neck. “Hey, boy. Let me see what’s in your feed.”
She bent down and pulled out the green leaves from inside his bucket of oats, and her blood went cold. They were the leaves of a water hemlock plant.
Another young boy, who appeared about the same age as the one who’d placed the water hemlock in Sieger’s bucket, walked toward her from Valten’s tent. “May I help you, fraulein?”
Gisela caught the boy by the arm. “Someone tried to poison Valt — your master’s horse. You must tell him with all haste.” She held up
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