To the Victor

by Samantha M. Derr

  "Everyone deserves to find love," I replied quietly. And I wondered if his words meant that Amir didn't love me?

  Silence fell between us. The road was surrounded on either side by woods, and I watched as the dappled sunlight cast patterns on his hair as we rode through the trees. I wanted to tell him that I loved him, desperately. But what could come of telling him now? Even if Charlotte returned with news that we would be unable to marry, I still wished to present him with the ring in the library, as a promise, a symbol of love and honor. So I held my tongue.

  The town was buzzing with activity as it came into view. The square was full of people rushing to prepare for the masquerade, no doubt; everyone's plans had been thrown by the long period of rain, and so I watched as villagers ran in and out of the butcher's, the baker's, the tailor's, the millinery, and the metalworker's establishments. Children ran about in their tunics and hose, some playing games amongst the legs of the townspeople while others clutched onto their mothers' hands. Horse-drawn carriages filled the streets, and so did many people riding astride.

  An open pavilion to the right of the main grid of houses was full of teenagers, talking and eating. The rain had also brought the cooler temperatures of early fall, so smoke curled from the chimneys of many of the straw-thatched cottages, and the tailor's shop was located in the last row of them, on the left.

  "You go ahead while I tie up Marfa," Amir said. "I'll be along shortly."

  I nodded my head then dismounted, heading inside.

  "Ah, Miryam!" The elderly tailor, a small, portly man that went by the name of Frye, swept out of a back room and enveloped me in a hug.

  "Dearest Frye," I said. "I hope business has been well?"

  "Yes, yes, very well. But I haven't seen you in months! And where is the lovely Charlotte?"

  "Travelling to Leeds to pick up some things for the masquerade," I said. "I was accompanied here by a friend from the joust, a Moorish knight. Sir Amir Ibáñez of Italy."

  "A Venetian Moor! And he is but a friend, you say?" Frye raised his eyebrows.

  "We are courting," I admitted.

  "How wonderful! Tell Charlotte to send word immediately of what fabrics she'll need for the wedding."

  "We aren't betrothed!" I protested.

  "Ah, but you will be. Who can resist you? Let me grab some swatches to send back with you."

  "Frye!"

  But he disappeared back into the rear of the shop, leaving me standing in the waiting area just as Amir ducked in.

  "It is madness out there!" He panted. "Took me nearly ten minutes just to house Marfa. Everyone is in a panic over the masquerade."

  "Yes, the rain has certainly made it difficult to prepare," I agreed. "I have already spoken to the tailor, and he will be out shortly."

  "You know him personally?" he asked.

  "Yes. Frye was one of the few that would serve my parents when they first came here, and so they became his best customers. He's known me since I was a babe, and outfitted me in practically everything from my Confirmation gown to my first stays. He's thick as thieves with Charlotte, as you can imagine."

  "Hello!" Frye returned, a large green box in hand. "For you, my Lady," he said, and then swept into a deep bow, winking as he placed the box in my hand. "I'm sure it shall be sufficient. And you," he turned to Amir. "Pray tell, what are you searching for on this fine day?"

  "Just a new linen shirt and breeches for the masquerade," Amir answered.

  "Fine choices," Frye said. "I'll need to take your measurements. Let me show you this way." He began to lead Amir into the back room. "Feel free to take a peek inside your box while we are away, my Lady," he called over his shoulder as they disappeared.

  The little imp, I thought with a grin. Carefully opening the box, I caught a glimpse of some of the most lovely swatches of silk that I had ever seen, in rich burgundies, sapphire blues, and a glimmery smooth gold. Turning my hands this way, and that, I watched as they caught the light.

  "Magnificent," I whispered.

  Hearing their voices approach, I hastily closed the box. Amir returned with a similar green package in his hands.

  "Was everything to your liking, good sir?" I inquired.

  "Everything was quite fantastic," he said. "I would have bought it all, but your good man Frye restrained me."

  Frye trailed into the room after Amir and whooped with laughter at his words. "If I bankrupt you today, how will you be able to return at a later date?"

  "That is why you're the shop keep, and I a lowly knight." Amir joked.

  "I'm happy to see you two getting along," I said. "But I believe we must depart. Thank you, Frye."

  "The pleasure was mine, my Lady." I bent down to hug him goodbye, and he whispered in my ear: "I quite like him."

  I whispered back, "As do I."

  And then, boxes in tow, Amir and I set forth back towards the manor.

  *~*~*

  Everything was ready.

  I stood back, surveying the scene before me. The library had been transformed into a private oasis: the white candles were everywhere, scattered amongst every nook and cranny, along with the scattered petals of dozens of white roses of York that I had plucked from the gardens myself. Although there was a thick Persian rug on the floor that Mother and Father had imported themselves, I'd covered it with silk throw blankets and my own personal burgundy and gold bed hangings. The overall effect of the burgundy, white, and gold against the rich mahogany of the bookshelves and the leather and fabric spines of the books was as picturesque as I had ever seen the library look.

  The fortnight had passed quickly, and yet another had gone by before Charlotte returned from Leeds. She and Alfaro had to go around the washed out portions of the road on their way back, leaving us with only two weeks before the masquerade to prepare. Every day we'd moved the items little by little into the library, arranging and rearranging until it was all just right: a rug here, a painting there. I'd told Amir that the storm had caused a leak in the room, rendering it off limits to him until I could get the roof fixed.

  And now the day had finally arrived.

  "My Lady!" I heard Charlotte gasp behind me. "It is a sight! Like a painting." As she stepped into the room, I saw that she held the pristine white dress that I was to wear that evening in her hands gingerly.

  "I moved just a few more things myself," said in a satisfied voice. "The sheepskin does glow when plaved by the fire just so, does it not?"

  "After seeing all this, if Amir does not say yes when you propose," she said, "then he is certainly blind! Or a fool!"

  I grinned. "As far as I can tell, he is neither. So hopefully all will go as planned. Let's see the dress again."

  She carefully unfolded it, holding it up so that the candlelight danced among the satin fabric. I saw that a brand new headpiece of glittering gold also lay nestled within its folds.

  "Oh, Charlotte," I breathed in wonder. "You outdid yourself."

  The dress had long, flowing bell sleeves, and was threaded with golden embroidery that danced along the waist, across the hem, and at the scooped neckline—which was cut so low that my breasts would certainly spill over the top if I were just a bit too overzealous in any movement. The front of the A-line skirt was split, and puckers of fabric were gathered underneath before extending out the back into a short train of about one and a half feet. It was magnificent.

  "Let's get you in it."

  It was so form fitting that I felt the tiniest bit short of breath as Charlotte placed it over my head and then laced it up the back. But her face lit up with pleasure as she stood back and carefully turned me from side to side.

  "You are a vision!" She pulled out a pocket mirror made of carefully polished metal and set in a gilded frame, and held it up so that I could see myself reflected within. I watched as she worried at the engraving on the outside, running the fingers of her left hand over and over it. I knew it was one of the few items she had that her parents had made.

  "They would be so proud
of the woman you've become," I said softly, laying my hand over hers. "Look at this gown you have made. The metalwork you have done. You have found love. You are such a talented and brilliant young woman."

  "Thank you, Miryam." She embraced me. "You are 30 years of age today, and your parents would think the same of you, you know. And they would love Amir. Everything will go fine tonight." She gave me a pat on the head. "Now go. I shall tend to the candles in your absence."

  "Will Alfaro be coming over?" I asked as I lifted the bejeweled adornment onto my head. It was a tressour crispinette, with the fillet fashioned as a narrow bar of gold sitting low on my forehead. Charlotte had woven my hair into the utterly fashionable style of plaits coiled over my ears, and the two golden cauls attached to the fillet covered them completely. A mesh veil was attached to the back of the headpiece, and it fell down my back and shoulders to connect underneath my chin, pearls woven into the gossamer fabric. She handed me a white-feathered mask to go with it.

  "Yes," Charlotte blushed. "I was too nervous to propose to her in Leeds. I picked up the mask there and claimed it was the only place I could get white peacock feathers, which is rubbish. When we stopped in to see William, I simply told her that he was my cousin, whom I wished to visit while we were in Leeds. But I will do it tonight, come Hell or high water." She set her mouth in a grim, determined line.

  "Well, you needn't look like you're going to the gallows about it!" I laughed. "And William did say that he would marry us both, after all." I was still thrilled inside by the news. Now, all I needed was for Amir to say yes.

  "I feel as nervous as if I were headed to the gallows," she replied. "But enough chatter. You'll be late."

  She called for the carriage, and the driver assisted me in. As the wagon pulled away from the manor, I began to feel the fluttering of nerves in my belly. I imagined that my own face probably looked like I was headed to the gallows.

  Relax, I told myself. What's the worst that can happen? At the end of the night, he says no. That's it. That won't kill anyone.

  But I thought the pain of it might kill me if he refused. Mother had told me old wives tales of people dying over a broken heart, and when I was a child I'd always scoffed at such foolishness. How I had been mistaken! To feel a well of love this deep for another person would surely result in a crushed heart if it were not reciprocated.

  "Markenfield Hall, my Lady."

  I was shaken out of my reverie by the driver's words. The fine country home of Sir Thomas Markenfield was a popular destination for masquerades, due to its Great Hall and remote location down a winding drive and across a moat: to approach, one was required to ride under a Tudor gatehouse into a grass and cobble courtyard, then exit the carriage and climb a stone staircase. I could see masked guests going up and the down the stairs as they entered and exited the Hall, light spilling out of the undercroft windows and stretching all the way to the gatehouse. The beautiful estate rested on 600 acres of farmland, and many would sneak off to a pleasure garden tonight with a paramour.

  "Thank you." I handed him a groat and carefully climbed out, lifting my skirts as I approached the steps. Amir had agreed to meet me at the foot of the Hall just after sunset; I tilted my head as I heard the Compline bells ring in the distance. I was exactly on time.

  "I had hoped I would run into you, my Lady! You appear as angelic as the Madonna. Erm—the Black Madonna."

  I winced internally at the sound of Lord Dustin's voice, but turned to face him with a smile.

  "Thank you, my Lord," I said graciously.

  He wore a black jacket with matching Florentine particolored hose, one leg black and the other red, and a mask of glossy black feathers with a long crow's beak attached. I had to admit that he cut a rather dashing figure. And he didn't appear to have noticed, but a group of three young women stood a few feet behind him, sighing and giggling.

  "I saw you waiting at the foot of the stairs and wondered if you had been stood up by your knight. I would be happy to escort you, my Lady."

  "While that is a kind and generous offer, I have only just arrived. We agreed to meet as the Compline bells rang, and they finished but a moment ago. I am sure he'll be here shortly. Surely one of your admirers would enjoy being escorted in?"

  He frowned. "Admirers?"

  "Behind you." I wiggled my fingers slightly in the direction of the girls. He glanced over his shoulder and then rolled his eyes.

  "Anna and her gaggle insist on following me everywhere! Pray tell, do you have any advice on how to get rid of them?"

  I laughed and patted him on the shoulder. He really wasn't so bad. "They'll grasp it soon enough, my Lord…"

  I trailed off as I saw Amir galloping up on Marfa. His brown skin glowed like a beacon against the long-sleeved white tunic and overcoat. Charlotte had placed golden embroidery that matched that of my dress down the opening of the linen coat and along the arms and wrists of the bell sleeves, which flapped open in the breeze. A golden clasp in the center of the coat held it shut. The tunic was knee-length and fringed with silk along the bottom, while the jacket grazed the ground as Amir leapt off of Marfa's back.

  I patted Lord Dustin's shoulder lightly. "Sir Amir arrives. It was lovely speaking to you, Lord Dustin, but I must go."

  "Lovely speaking to you, as well," he said, with a rather dejected look.

  I strode across the grass to Amir, who grinned behind his mask, a simple golden sheath that covered the upper half of his face. He pulled a stick of licorice from his pocket and handed it to me. "In honor of today being the day you were born."

  "You remembered."

  He stood back and roved his eyes over me. "You look stunning."

  "Thank you." I batted my eyelashes coyly at him. "As do you, Sir.

  He ran his fingers over the soft fabric of his coat. "I must say, I don't believe I have ever worn anything so finely made. Charlotte should go into business for herself."

  "Perhaps she will," I linked my arm through his, and we slowly began to climb the stone staircase together. "I've suggested it to her many times, but she is reluctant to leave my employ. She worries about me." I shook my head. "She thinks I'll be lonely."

  "If it were up to me, you would never have to fear being lonely again," Amir said. "I would follow you anywhere, my Lady."

  I beamed. "Make sure you tell that to Charlotte."

  We reached the top of the stairs and walked beneath the undercroft, instantly being transported to a world of music and light. Glass and crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling of the Great Hall, casting golden candlelight everywhere, despite the growing darkness of night pressing against the large, cathedral-style windows, and a Spanish quartet sang and played vihuelas on one side of the room. The hall was filled to the brim with people, men and women in their finest dresses, jackets, and hose, some even in elaborate costumes. All wore masks.

  "Shall we?" Amir extended one hand out to me and pulled me into a brisk carola to the music when I placed my left hand in his. I linked arms with another guest on the right, and we whirled around the dance floor in a circular formation. The tune grew faster, and we switched directions, our bodies moving in unison, and similar circle dances were being performed all over the great hall. I tilted my head back and closed my eyes, feeling the movement, listening to people laughing and shouting.

  Time passed quickly. Before I knew it, my chest was heaving up and down, covered with sweat.

  "Amir," I gasped, pulling him out of the circle. "I need a rest. How long do you think it has been?"

  "At least an hour," he said. I noticed the glow of sweat on his forehead, and the reddish tint of rigor across his cheeks. "I'm famished."

  "As am I. Might you call a servant to fetch us something from the buffet?" I asked. A series of wooden plans near the entrance of the hall was piled high with more food than we could ever eat: pheasants and turkeys, chickens, pigeons, whole roasted pigs, several roe deer, rabbits, veal, hard-boiled eggs, platters of cheese, plums, strawberries, and figs. The
re were rows and rows of golden, crusty fruit pies, white cream with rose water, and, in the center, specialty jellies of swans and peacocks. Lines of servants came and went, piling silver and gold plates with small portions of food that then they handed out to waiting guests.

  "Right away, my Lady." He bowed. "Wait right here." And then he was off, making his way across the crowded room to the tables.

  I sighed with happiness. I hadn't had such a good time in ages. The music was good, the dancing was better, and the company—the only other company I would rather be in was that of Charlotte.

  I wonder if she has proposed to Alfaro yet? I thought. She would certainly expect me to be gone at least two hours, and then to retire to the library as soon as Amir and I got back to the manor. She still had plenty of time, but I hoped she wouldn't dawdle and lose her nerve.

  "Lost in thought, my dear?"

  "Lady Elizabeth!"

  She had appeared as silently before me as a ghost. Her dark brown hair, shot through with gray, was hidden under a butterfly headdress that perfectly matched her deep purple gown. It was cut so low I could just see the tops of her nipples, a dusty pink against her pale skin. "You gave me a fright!"

  "Pardon me, but when you are thinking as hard as you appeared to be a moment ago, it is probably not difficult." She giggled. "Not pondering what you'll be doing in the bedroom with that lad of yours after the masquerade, are you?" She cackled, the knowing laugh of an older woman who had lived her life, and lived it well.

  "My Lady!" I blushed. "I was doing no such thing. Only wondering if my Lady-in-Waiting was busy at home is all."

  "Oh, I'm sure she's busy," Lady Elizabeth gave a wink. "I've seen her arm in arm in the market with that valet of hers. He was probably hiding in the stables as you pulled the carriage out."

  Her good humor was infectious. "Probably." I laughed. "And she's all the better for it."

  "Oh, aren't we all? If I were a good 15 years younger, I'd have my eye on your knight, I would. He's one that certainly might have gotten me into the marriage bed."