Queen Of Knights by David Wind Read Free Book Online Page A

thought about the other servants and their foolish superstitions.  They feared to bathe so often led to sickness and insanity .  So had she, until she watched her mistress grow strong and healthy .  Never once in the last nine years had Gwendolyn been ill.  So even though the others made fun of her mistress, Roweena bathed her nightly, and after Gwendolyn retired for the night, Roweena herself bathed, with Gwendolyn’s water and permission .
    “My lady?” Roweena called.
    Gwendolyn stopped walking and turned toward her servant .  She gazed openly at the small, plain, yet pretty woman dressed in her servant’s tunic .
    “I am worried.  Sir Morgan was in foul temper today when he left.
    “That does not concern me , ” Gwendolyn said.
    “I am afraid for our future,” Roweena whispered.  “Because of Morgan?”
    “Because he is a cruel man.  He will hurt you if you do not obey him once you are married,” Roweena whispered.
    “Never!”
    “He is unlike your grandfather.  He is Norman not Saxon.  He treats his people like dirt, taxing them beyond their ab i lities, leaving them half starved, and if they protest, he whips them.”
    “Peasants and serfs are always spreading lies about their lords,” Gwendolyn protested half-heartedly, but she , too, had heard these tales , and not from the peasants.
    “It is said that the men of Guildswood beat their women for sport , ” she added in a fear-filled voice.
    Gwendolyn shook her head sadly.  She would not deny Roweena’s words; she could not.  She knew all too well a woman’s lot once she married and left the protection of her own fami l y—she was her husband’s servant.  Her only use was to breed children, and male children at that.  But she also knew that she would never tolerate being beaten.  Never!
    “It will not happen!” she swore to both herself and her maid .  And as she did, the face of Miles De l ong loomed before her.  She felt the warmth of his sea-green eyes wash over her, and knew, somehow, she wou l d never fear Morgan.
    “I pray so daily,” Roweena whispered.  “But yesterday, when Sir Morgan returned to the castle wit h out you, his temper was f ierce.  He beat the stable boy , and even today the lad has not recovered.”
    “My grandfather did nothing about this?” she asked in shocked disbelief.
    “He did not know unti l after Sir Morgan had gone this morning.”
    “It will not happen again!” Before Gwendo l yn could say more, the sound of horses and men in armor floated above the castle walls .  Whir l ing, she went to the edge of the parapet and l ooked down.
    Beneath her, in the outer bailey , were more than a dozen men.  She tried to see through the darkness but could not .  She watched the gates open and the men enter.  A sudden flurry of activity erupted within the courtyard, and Gwendolyn turned to Roweena.
    “We have guests.  Help me dress.” Moving quickly across the walkway, she returned to her bedchamber.
    Inside, Gwendolyn shed the robe she’d worn and stepped into a long whi t e tunic that Roweena held for her, securing the tunic tightly about her narrow waist with a mai l le girdle.  Her golden hair hung freely down the length of her back.  But when she turned to leave, Roweena stopped her.
    “Your hair,” she reminded Gwendolyn.  “We do not have the time.”
    “The coif-de-maille?”
    Gwendolyn nodded, and Roweena lifted the long headpiece and brought it to her mistress.  The coif itself, unlike the knight’s protection after which it was named , was of the finest golden strands.  Each strand was interconnected by a small unpolished jewel.  Gwendolyn bent to let her servant place the headpiece over her hair.  When Gwendolyn stood, the gold seemed to blend with the color of her hair, which made the gems , unpolished as they were, stand out in beautiful contrast.  The only polished jewel, a teardrop ruby, fell to the exact center of her forehead.  The maille covered her hair and