by Park, Elsie
Roland made a few minor errors along the way, which Audri patiently corrected—verbally. She greatly admired his efforts.
Ethel returned from helping others in the room and leaned over to look at Roland’s work. “Striking. Yes, quite handsome indeed.” Audri smiled, catching the double meaning in her comment.
After a half hour, Audri patted Roland’s shoulder. “Well done, Sir Roland.” He sat back and viewed his creation before grinning at her with boyish pride. “But it’s time to move on.”
“Aw, just when I was getting proficient at it,” he said, though she suspected he was relieved to be done.
“Yes, I know how that feels,” Audri muttered, thinking of all the times she’d felt that way with her training.
“Thank you for your exceptional work, ladies,” Audri acknowledged as they moved toward the exit. “And for showing Sir Roland what real work is.”
The room rolled with chuckles and nods.
“Feel free to come again, Sir Roland,” Ethel said. “You did well, and we enjoyed your company.”
Roland flashed his straight teeth in a friendly grin and bowed to the older woman before they took their leave. They moved on to another room where about twenty ladies sat in circles in different parts of the room pulling needles and thread through clothing of varying sizes and colors. The seamstresses and embroiderers immediately hushed their chatter and gave the trio the same astounded reactions as the weavers had, but, like the latter, didn’t question when Audri announced they had come to participate.
Sir Roland was given a stool in front of a large wooden ring supported two and a half feet off the floor on wooden legs. A piece of white cloth was pulled tight around the ring with the unfinished design of a purple rose. Audri handed him a needle with thick purple thread laced through it and stood next to him. She explained how to follow the light charcoal pattern drawn onto the cloth by pulling the needle and thread up and down through the taut surface. Roland sat down and followed her instructions as she repeated them.
“Excellent lines. You’re awfully precise,” she praised as he hunched over his new project and pulled the needle through with careful effort. She kept her comments positive and encouraging, especially when knots formed in his thread and he cursed under his breath.
“Watch your tongue, Sir Knight,” Audri said in lighthearted reproof.
“I’ll watch my tongue if you tell me how to avoid these vexing obstacles,” he growled.
Audri chuckled. “Knots are just a part of sewing as much as troubles are a part of life. We must deal with them, learn from them, and move on.”
“Well I’m not learning anything from these knots except how not to avoid them,” he mumbled while trying to fix the thread.
Audri laughed gently as she squatted beside his stool. “Here,” she said, taking the threaded needle from his calloused, masculine hands. Her hands brushed his and a pleasant shiver ran through her body. As she stuck the needle point into the knot, gently pulling and tugging at the knot to loosen it, she felt Roland’s eyes observing her face. She didn’t dare look at him for fear he’d see her blush. She worked the knot free and handed him the needle. She stood and took her place behind him this time.
They spent another half hour in that room, allowing Roland to finish sewing the small intricate flower with its green stem and leaves before ending the session. As he had with the loom, he sat back and smiled at his accomplishment before turning a knowing look on Audri. She was really enjoying this rare side of Roland as opposed to the stern militaristic trainer whose mouth seldom turned upward.
The entire day was taken up as they made their rounds to the cheesemakers, dairy maids, candlemakers, and finally to the castle kitchen to make dough and bake bread. When they got hungry, they snacked on the spoils of their labors: soft warm bread covered with butter and honey.
She was impressed that Roland had kept his word to do everything she asked of him, without comment or complaint. It made her feel a little guilty for all the times she complained during her own training. His compliant attitude made it hard for her to remain angry with him for his accusing outburst the night before. He really did have more good qualities than flaws, and she told herself she should concentrate more on the positive than the negative.
As the evening neared, she had one last undertaking for him. Leading the way down the hallway to another door, she was about to enter when Sir Heath came striding toward them. He bowed to her and Sir Roland and then turned and delivered a wink at Gail. Gail tried to act proper, as if the bold gesture had offended her, but she couldn’t hold back a diminutive grin.
“What have you all been up to today, hmm?” Heath asked.
“As you are fully aware, Sir Heath, Audri won the challenge. My fate is that I am hers to command for an entire day.” Roland sighed and shook his head as he leaned his shoulder up against the stone wall. “She’s seen to it that I am educated in the finer points of women’s duties.”
Heath’s eyebrows shot up and his face reddened as he tried not to laugh.
Roland smiled too. “It’s surprisingly hard work, as my bruised and blistered fingers will attest to. I have a newfound respect for the responsibilities they take on.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear it,” Audri said with a gratified smile. “I can almost call my efforts with you a success.”
“Almost?” Roland’s brows lifted.
“Yes, well, I have one last task for you to perform.”
She laughed when Roland lifted his eyes to the ceiling before turning them on Sir Heath. “She’s a harsh taskmaster. I hope you’ve come to rescue me from her relentless drudgery.”
Heath chuckled, shaking his head. “Would that I could accommodate you, but my young Bryant attends a class in this very room you stand at, and I’ve come to collect him for cena after it’s over.”
“Lovely!” Audri exclaimed, clapping her hands together in front of her chest. “Without further delay, let’s enter and catch the rest of the lesson.”
Sir Heath opened the door and admitted his three companions into a good-sized room containing about sixteen children between the ages of five and fourteen. Some of the boys were squires. There was an equal number of boys and girls. Each pair, spread around the room, faced their partner as they stood a few feet apart. A male lutist sat on a stool in one of the corners, his stringed instrument resting on his lap as he awaited the female instructor to walk around and correct the children’s feet and arm positions. Upon their arrival, the woman paused, unsure what the entrance of Lady Audrina Gibbons and her entourage meant. Bryant, seeing his knight, straightened his shoulders and attentively regarded the pretty little lass standing across from him.
“Seeing to the education of proper dance in young children is also one of our duties in Guildon,” Audri announced. Nodding to the instructor and giving her permission to carry on with her class, the woman curtsied and continued her rounds.
“Ah, now this I know, milady,” Roland asserted with decorum. “Part of a squire’s education is to learn the formalities of dance and other social practices. You can’t seem to escape your own training, even for a day.”
Audri’s tightened lips accompanied her blithe glare.
“I also learned from my sweet mother the finer points of dance, so you need not repeat them for my sake.”
“Ah, but how much do you practice it now, Sir Roland? I dare say you might be a tad rusty.”
“I assure you, Audri, I have retained my proficiency quite proficiently.” His word choice earned giggles from the children closest to them.
“Then consider this a test of your skill.” Audri took up a spot in the far corner so as not to get in the way of the smaller pupils. She lifted her chin up and looked expectantly at Sir Roland.
He pursed his lips but followed suit, taking up his position in facing her with the customary three feet between them. Gail moved to sta
nd nearby, but Sir Heath gently took the woman’s arm and pulled her to the other side of the room. “Let them be, Lady Pritchard,” he urged in a placid tone. “They’ll be fine in this room full of chaperones. Now, I don’t dance much—don’t really like to if truth be told—but to keep the company of a beautiful woman, I’ll suffer through it.” Heath laughed at his own comment, bringing a smile to Gail’s lips. Audri watched across the room as Sir Heath positioned himself in front of Gail, the latter’s face a mixture of uncertainty over leaving her lady’s side and pleasure over her dance partner.
Audri’s attention returned to Sir Roland, whose concentrating gaze on her face made her blush. Maybe this isn’t such a good idea, she thought as her legs began to feel rubbery under his intense stare. She was about to tell him she’d changed her mind about this task when the lutist took up his stringed instrument and accompanied his tune to “A Mighty Change” with expressive lyrics.
A tug of war, a test of might.
The struggles arise, and weak comes to light.
The female instructor, situated in the center of the room so all the children could see her, stepped to the right and left, lifting her arms in a slow-moving pattern as she danced with an imaginary partner. The children followed her movements, but Audri knew the steps by heart. She turned her eyes back to Sir Roland. He, too, didn’t look to the instructor as he made fluid and practiced movements opposite Audri. He wasn’t lying when he said he was proficient.
To conquer alone, intent just can’t make.
It wants a sustaining hand to take.
Never touching, but getting as close as six inches at times, Audri felt breathless but very much alive as she inhaled the clove scent from her partner. Rarely taking their eyes from their partner’s, they stepped toward and away, bowing and curtsying at the correct times. They would step around each other sometimes, only to come face to face again and start the steps over again. Their motions were so smooth, one would have thought they’d practiced together for weeks.
“You mentioned your mother having taught you to dance,” Audri said with a voice more confident than she felt. “I perceived the love and respect in your tone. Your parents must be good people.”
“They are.” Roland nodded.
Don’t urge return to previous wrong,
Or vanishing trust will be your sad song.
“Then how came you to be disinherited?” She didn’t know what bravery nudged her to ask such a personal question, but it slipped out before she could stop it.
It seemed as if he struggled to think of an answer to that. Or maybe he didn’t like talking about it because of painful memories. She didn’t want to cause him discomfort, but she was curious to learn more about this man whom she was growing fonder of with each passing day.
She patiently awaited his response as they stepped around each other.
An eager heart that beats without guile.
A strength is required to overcome trial.
“Good people can still have disagreements, sometimes leading to unfavorable ends,” he said.
He didn’t elaborate, and she caught the hint that he didn’t want to discuss it. She reluctantly changed the subject, hoping she hadn’t offended him with her prodding. “This being the last event, I’m curious to know how our two-day competition affected you?”
Roland raised his eyebrows and again pursed his lips. “Well, in all honesty, my quick temper can’t be alleviated in just two days. It’s something I’ll be working at for a while, I fear, but I admit this challenge has given me some much-needed assistance on my goal.”
“How so?”
Roads, they be lengthy and rocky to sway.
Hold confident courage, drive doubts away.
With humble reflection and choices of right,
A mighty change cometh through strong inner fight.
“Well,” he paused while they stepped around each other. “I’ve learned to try and place myself in others’ shoes,” he said as they came face to face again, “to view the situation from their point of view instead of simply thinking of my own. I’ve learned to take a breath, a very deep breath, before reacting to matters. It gives me time to think of something other than yelling. But you certainly put me to the test with your antics, even pushing me to the very brink.”
“Antics?” she returned in mock surprise. “Why I never . . .” She shook her head and clicked her tongue as if offended, but her diminutive grin suggested the opposite.
“Tell me,” Roland said. “Did you stay up all night thinking of things you’d do to test me, or were your exploits spur of the moment?”
Audri laughed. “A little of both, I suppose. And what of you, Sir Tormenter? I have a feeling you thought long and hard over what you’d do to check my limits.”
Roland laughed, a low sound that sent pleasant ripples throughout her body. “Guilty as charged. I planned out most of the trials during the night as I lay abed, but a few opportunities happened of their own accord.”
A needless war, a conflict pends.
Perceptions erred, each side defends.
Audri, smiling, stepped to her right and turned. Roland did the same so that they were standing side by side, facing the same direction. They stepped forward, almost shoulder to shoulder and then turned so they were back to back. They repeated their steps until they were again face to face.
Built up in between, a guarded fence.
Resistance that hangs on past offense.
Then in the midst, a kindness bared.
There comes to the light, a likeness shared.
“And what did you take away from your fast?” Roland queried.
Her eyebrows furrowed as she really pondered it. “Well, I learned that I can indeed survive without food for a time, a short time, and that it doesn’t have to rule my life. I learned that I can take my mind off sustenance by concentrating on other things. I’ve gained a greater appreciation for the food I have at my fingertips, and I no longer take it for granted. Many villagers don’t know what they’ll receive from day to day or if they’ll have anything at all. My empathy toward their struggles has only strengthened.”
Roland nodded, and she felt elevated with the satisfied expression on his face. “This trial has done us both some good, and I may be safe in saying that we understand each other better.”
And out of truth, arise amends.
The foes unite, the variance ends.
“So true, Sir Roland.” Audri’s heart warmed at his words, and she suddenly wondered if he might be the one to save her and her mother from the darkness of Guildon. The thought was fleeting, but the feeling in her heart lingered, daring her to hope. But all she knew of him was what she had seen and experienced for herself, and that was barely over a month’s worth. How could she put so much hope in someone she knew so little about?
The remainder of the dance was performed in silence as they listened to the words of the lutist’s song of improving one’s self and gaining a change of heart toward a former foe. It seemed to be written for her and Roland.
Roads, they be lengthy and rocky to sway.
Hold confident courage, drive doubts away.
With humble reflection and choices of right,
A mighty change cometh through strong inner fight.
Audri was caught in a wondrous spell she didn’t want broken, but then the music ended. Roland bowed to her and she dipped a curtsy back. The instructor curtsied to her unexpected guests and then praised her students on their performance. Audri was disappointed when this rare moment with her knight came to an end. She knew she’d savor it in her heart forever. They exited the room en masse, the children turning in different directions down the corridor with their chaperones or to return to tutors elsewhere.
“Well, Sir Roland, thank you for enduring my punishments without complaint.” She produced an honest smile and looked up into
his face.
He bowed low. “You earned it, Audri, and I was delighted to spend the day with you.”
“Really?” she said, wondering if he meant it or was simply being polite.
“Really,” he affirmed with a heart-melting grin, and she didn’t doubt the truth of it.
She felt warm inside and quickly turned away, embarrassed by her growing adoration of him. She cleared her throat. “I release you from your obligation at this time, sir. Thank you.” She started down the corridor, Gail trailing behind her. “Enjoy the evening meal,” she called over her shoulder.
“You’ll not be joining us?” Roland asked, falling into step beside her.
“Uh, no. I’d prefer to spend the last moments of my free day away from the ruckus of the hall—and from the chuckles of those who witnessed my folly last night.”
She glanced at Roland. His eyes regarded her with sympathy and understanding.
“Then I will take my leave of you and allow you to enjoy the evening as you see fit. But,” he emphasized the last word, making her stop and turn to him, “back to our usual routine on the morrow, yes?”
Audri nodded, feeling breathless beside this man she’d set out to defy but who was sliding his way into her heart. She knew he must have been utterly embarrassed to do the things she had asked of him today, but he’d gained her respect through keeping his word—another attestation that he was an honorable man despite his weaknesses. She needed space to clear her head and started up a quick pace to put distance between them. Gail was right beside her as they turned a corner opposite the great hall and headed to her chamber.
Roland didn’t like spreading falsehoods, especially about his being disinherited. He felt his pretense about the dishonor made Audri look down on him more than she already did after his treatment of her last night, and he didn’t want that. Still, he hoped his vague reply was enough to keep her from asking more about his past until he was ready to reveal the truth . . . if he ever did.