As the evening progressed, Sophia enjoyed the wonderful feast, the delightful Morris dancing, and the magical bonfires. As long as she kept her focus fixed upon Beon and not her father...that is.
Chapter 7
Maypole Dancing, Mysterious Monsters, and Missing Persons
If Beon had been asked the night previous if there were many redeeming qualities about Bamborough Castle, he would have told them ‘no’ quite forcefully.
Having spent a great deal of his youth and training in this place, he could produce a thorough list of its many flaws. Beon would have a multitude of similar complaints about Lord Gall as Baron of this pile of moldy stones.
However, as Beon stood on the perimeter of the courtyard watching Gall’s daughter, Sophia, interact with the other guests, he would tell you that Bamborough Castle was the finest in the land and the only castle in which he wished to reside in all of England.
The typically dreary castle seemed much lighter with her and a crowd of smiling people in attendance to celebrate the arrival of summer. With minstrels playing, colorful banners hung, every archway and window draped with fresh flowers picked that morning while dew still clung to their petals, Beon found the scene before him vibrant and welcoming. The sights and sounds, as well as the floral fragrance, transported Beon to a world where fey reigned rather than war-crazed kings...a world where knights were not needed, and tears never filled the eyes of the innocent and weak. And yet, whenever Sophia looked in her father’s direction, that pout crept back to her lips no matter how many times Beon tried to banish it.
Dressed in a golden gown with so many forget-me-nots tucked into the plaits of her auburn hair, Sophia looked more like an Elven princess rather than the only daughter of a brooding baron. She stood beside the May Bush at the moment, pointing to the painted the shells and talking to another maiden about things Beon couldn’t hear from this distance.
Sophia truly had a way about her, Beon thought to himself. It was something that had drawn him to her when they’d been younger, but that quality held him in place now, almost as though he might have become one of the stones making up the structure of the castle. He found that he liked her even more than he’d first thought as he got to know her once again. He also felt an overwhelming desire to protect her, not only because she had saved his life and he was bound to her by duty, but because he cared for her.
As Beon thought about it for the first time, Sophia may be his only real friend. He knew all of his fellow fosters quite well, and even enjoyed their company from time to time, but Beon mainly kept to himself, studying, doing his chores, cleaning the stalls, feeding the horses, and putting in extra practice with his swordplay, archery, and close combat after everyone else had retired.
True, he hadn’t seen Sophia in years, but growing up as children together gave him the sense they really knew each other. Or perhaps it was something more…something deeper. Or perhaps he was kidding himself and just wished it to be true.
As Beon’s attention was drawn back to the scene before him, it became apparent that he was not the only one who noticed Sophia had blossomed into a young lady during her absence. The squires and knights paid her special attention as well. Beon decided he was unconcerned by this because he knew that he and Sophia shared a secret and a bond that transcended the superficial attentions of strangers.
The attention of her father was another matter. The man didn’t seem to notice her at all unless it was to demand something of her. Beon could see Lord Gall at a distance tearing a chicken leg apart at the long table while jabbering loudly with some of his closest knights about the latest hunt. Beon felt a twinge of disapproval. She deserved more. “You have good taste, young man.”
Beon was startled to find a nobleman standing next to him. He was only slightly older than Beon and extremely refined. After taking in this man’s fine apparel, it was obvious he was filthy rich. His easy smile and the smooth air about him made Beon dislike him instantly.
“Pardon me, my lord?” Beon asked.
“The yon lady you so clearly hold an affection for. Who is she?” the man asked, his eyes still casually fixed on Sophia.
“And who might you be, my lord?” Beon asked, not minding that it was rude to ask a question in answer to a question. This man might outrank him, but his arrogant tone was offensive. Beon knew this was how he got himself into trouble, and might well be the root of his difficulties with Lord Gall. Even so, he couldn’t resist shoving back verbally. He was also willing to admit this man’s query about Sophia had provoked him as well. The man raised a single, sophisticated brow and glanced at Beon out of the side of his eye. Did Beon feel penitent for overstepping his station so boldly? He would determine that when this conversation was over. But supposing it was wise to feign a level of meekness he wasn’t really feeling, a tactic which had served him well in the past, he said “Forgive me, my lord,” and bowed before the mysterious nobleman, “My name is Beon Everard, page to Sir Lyndon under the foster of Lord Gall, Baron of Bamborough, at your service.”
“Aren’t you a bit old for a page, Beon Everard?”
“I started late, my lord…my family needed me at home.”
“A noble reason, indeed. Family is everything, is it not?”
“I agree, my lord.”
“Your father wouldn’t be Sir Everard of the King’s guard, Lord of Brentworth, would he?”
“Why yes, you know my father?” he asked, suddenly a bit more interested in this exchange.
“I fought with him at Halidon Hill. He is a man among men.”
Was the compliment genuine? Beon wasn’t sure and wondered what it was about this stranger he found so unsettling. While the conversation was still rather civil, Beon detected a tension he couldn’t seem to put a name to. Lithe with blond hair and steel blue eyes, there was something about the man that seemed majestic and feral all at once.
The nobleman reminded Beon of his theory that positive thinking lent itself to a confidence that inspired success, despite the fact that it frequently came off as egotistical. This man had self-assurance too, but it was different somehow. It was more like a deep, serene pool…completely still and utterly certain of itself, which was even more unnerving.
“She is a rare beauty indeed. What was her name again?”
“Lady Gall,” Beon answered, unwilling to tell this man her real name. “And you are?” he repeated, not missing the fact this man had never given a proper introduction of himself.
“Good luck, Beon Everard.” Evading Beon’s query once more, the supercilious nobleman dipped his head toward Beon and sauntered off in the direction of Lord Gall.
“I…didn’t get your name, my lord,” he called after him, but the nobleman did not hear him…or ignored him. Beon stood there trying to sort out the underlying intentions of that odd conversation, but he just couldn’t manage it.
He watched as Lord Gall greeted the man with feigned surprise and adulation. Beon could tell the baron must truly respect this mysterious guest, because his behavior was rare indeed.
“I see you’ve met Henry,” Sir Lyndon said, startling Beon yet again.
“Henry?”
“Yes, Sir Henry de Percy, Lord of Alnwick. Strange man...strange family, but rather likable nonetheless.”
Beon recalled that Alnwick Castle was about a day’s ride southeast of Bamborough and considered the gateway to Northumberland. It is essentially the county seat, and the Percys were the ‘Lords of the North,’ for lack of a better way to put it. Beon had certainly heard rumors of their eccentric nature, but then, when a family is as wealthy as theirs, it often came with the territory.
“I haven’t seen much of you since your journey to Holy Island. Have you been avoiding me?” Sir Lyndon asked with a knowing look in his eye.
“Yes, sir, forgive me. I overslept the morning I was to retrieve Sophia, which put us behind schedule. I’m still unsure of what happened to Sir Bartley. Anyway, due to those mishaps, we arrived back shortly after dark.”
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“I’m pleased to hear you only experienced ‘mishaps’ that night. Strange about Bartley going missing,” Sir Lyndon said a bit grimly. “I was concerned for you because a villager visited Lord Gall yesterday worried that her husband had not returned home the night before. He had been traveling the south road, just as you were. So it would seem that two men have gone missing in one night. I don’t see how they could be related, though.”
Gulping at this news, Beon felt his heart start beating wildly within his chest. How could he, in good conscience, not be forthcoming with Sir Lyndon about what he’d seen on the road considering the report he’d just heard?
With his thoughts so focused on Sophia, he’d scarcely considered the poor peasant who’d fallen victim to the demon. A woman had lost her husband. Was she now a widow with no way to feed her small children?
Additionally, he was afraid that if word got to Lord Gall about this, he would be punished in more ways than one, held back even longer in his quest to become a knight and at the very least, forbidden to escort Sophia back to Holy Island.
Deep down, he had also wanted the glory of capturing the demon himself. But a true knight was selfless, Beon reminded himself. A true knight did not hide in the shadows or keep secrets from his most respected friend and mentor. Yes, friend, Beon repeated to himself. Beon realized that as he’d been thinking of Sophia earlier, he’d somehow forgotten about Sir Lyndon. Despite the fact that Sir Lyndon was several years older than Beon and had seen many battles, there was a mutual respect that had grown between them over the years that was bordering on camaraderie. Beon knew in his heart that Sir Lyndon had his back and cared for him…much as a brother or uncle might. Beon felt the same way about him.
“I’ve been trying to sort out what I saw…forgive me for not coming to you sooner…I had selfishly wanted to capture the demon on my own, to prove once and for all to Lord Gall that I am worthy—”
Sir Lyndon interrupted his words by lifting one hand. His eyebrows drew together and then he said, “We’ll come back to this foolishness about feeling unworthy once we’ve dealt with the more pressing matter. What is this talk of a demon?”
“I saw…something…a human-like creature…attack a peasant on the road—”
“The same peasant who went missing?”
Beon nodded. “I tried to stop the demon…I had withdrawn my sword, but it possessed an unnatural amount of strength, leaving me quite powerless against it. Had Sophia not frightened it off with her cross, I fear it would have killed us both.”
“Thank the god’s that you’re both all right! What of the peasant? Could he have survived?”
“The thing carried him off into the night as though he were a slab of mutton.”
“How could Sir Bartley have abandoned the two of you on such a journey? It’s true that I don’t particularly like him—he tends to be rather cruel—but he is a strong knight all the same.”
“Could Sir Bartley have fallen prey to the creature as well?” Beon wondered aloud, but then another thought occurred to him. “Or what if—?”
“Blast it all! Are you suggesting Sir Bartley could be possessed by a devil and he was the demon you saw?”
“It might explain his disappearance.”
After a long pause, in which time, Sir Lyndon seemed to ponder it, he said, “We can never know the truth of that until we see this thing again. I have actually heard of such tales in the far reaches of Europe. Stories of flesh-eating demons, but that’s all I thought they were, frightening tales to make naughty children behave.”
“Sophia says that blood is their life source,” Beon said.
“Yes, perhaps that was it…blood-sucking demons that would pick off young villagers like sheep if they lingered overlong within the woods when they were expected at home for supper. Other rumors say that it’s the great pestilence that is sweeping across Eastern Europe, claiming hundreds of lives. Again, I’d thought the worrisome stories were just too fantastical to be real.”
“Having seen it with my own eyes, I fear it could become a great pestilence.”
“How does Sophia know so much about this creature?” Sir Lyndon asked.
“Certain monks from her priory have been called upon to rid villages of the epidemic. The devils appear to shrink from certain materials and objects, and from what I gleaned, can be killed with the proper use of a stake.”
“Hmm. Well, it is obvious that I should be the one to return Sophia safely to Holy Island, although I had planned—”
“Please, Sir Lyndon, allow me to escort her,” Beon interrupted a bit too enthusiastically. If he wasn’t careful, he would reveal his fondness for her. “Sir, I must be allowed to complete my mission and see her safely home.”
“Calm down, my young charge, if you had allowed me to finish…”
“Of course, forgive me, Sir Lyndon,” Beon responded quickly, bowing his head.
“I had planned to join the escort either way. But with something like this lurking within the woods, we can’t risk you being forced to do it alone again. Not only do I wish for both of you to be safe, but she is also a young lady now, quite clearly, and her virtue must be considered. She should really have a lady’s maid about at all times.”
Beon’s face reddened again. “Sir, I would never—”
“I know, Beon,” Sir Lyndon said, patting him on the shoulder. “Your honor is not in question. It’s only a matter of appearances, as you know.”
Catching onto movement out of the corner of his eye, Beon’s attention was once again drawn to Henry de Percy. His insides froze when he saw Lord Gall introducing him to Sophia. Henry gave Sophia a dazzling smile and kissed her hand. Even from this distance, Beon could see Sophia blush. And suddenly, he felt he was in competition with this man who clearly possessed an advantage in that he had already won over her father, a feat Beon feared would forever evade him no matter what he did.
His hands fisted at his sides when he remembered what she’d said about Lord Gall bringing her home to meet suitors. Suitors to marry her. As the true gravity of the situation sank in, Beon felt a new level of panic that had him grasping desperately at his idea about ‘positive thinking.’ Could he possibly lose her to Henry de Percy?
Violent thoughts of ways he could destroy Henry filled his mind as Beon continued to watch how Sophia bashfully conversed with the nobleman, her lashes fluttering, her lips smiling.
“So? How was it seeing Sophia again?” Sir Lyndon asked with a glint in his eye as he made it known that he’d caught Beon fervently observing her every move. Beon kicked himself for being so obvious.
“I would be delighted to see you perform the Maypole dance with Sir Percy,” Father said, and Sophia found herself allowing the lord to hold her gaze as she mentally sought a proper response. She had known this was the purpose of her return home, but was she truly prepared for it? Not only was she feeling conflicted about returning to the Priory, but she was also still trying to understand what she was feeling for Beon. A part of her wanted to dance with Beon and no one else, but now she found she was also intrigued by Sir Percy.
As she stood there like a fool, not knowing what to say, Percy beamed at her with those steely blues of his, took her by the hand, and led her towards the Maypole in the center of the courtyard. Impulsively, she looked for Beon, but it was too late to dance with him even she wanted to. Father had made that decision for her.
“Why does my father refer to you as ‘Sir Percy’ when I know you to a nobleman and a lord?” Sophia finally asked as they took their dance positions.
“I prefer it that way, my lady. I am a knight, first and foremost, and a man of the people. I put very little stock in titles...a man is the sum of his actions, don’t you agree?”
Sophia nodded and smiled in agreement.
When she looked up, her eyes locked on Beon standing beside Sir Lyndon. Sophia wasn’t sure how to interpret the expression she saw written on his face. Was he encouraging her as a brother might do? Or was he dismayed
to see her dancing with another man? Her gaze widened when Beon suddenly started coming her way, determination in his stride.
“Here is your ribbon, Lady Sophia,” Sir Percy said, drawing her attention.
“Thank you,” she said, not knowing what was about to happen next.
Sophia dropped her eyes to the blue ribbon in her hands, unable to face Sir Percy. What was Beon about to do? Did he mean to cut in? She was too unsettled even to look. When she lifted her eyes and noticed the other couples were preparing for the dance to begin, each person taking up one of the colored ribbons, she looked around for Beon and found him standing directly across from her with another young woman. She exhaled in relief that he wasn’t about to cause a scene that would anger Father.
The music began, and as they moved through the steps, weaving the ribbons around the pole, over and under each other as they went, Sophia discovered it was easier to look at Beon rather than her dance partner because he was directly in front of her. With only ribbons obscuring her view of him, Beon held her gaze as they traveled around the Maypole. And even though Sir Percy was at her side, he was almost completely out of her line of sight, and therefore out of mind. She’d been wrong to assume that Beon was trying to avoid her. Instead, and rather brilliantly, he’d skillfully stolen her attention. Sophia didn’t think Beon was as surprised by how well it had worked out for him as she was...if she was to judge the smirk on his face accurately.
Remembering it was proper to curtsy to her partner when the music eventually ended, and the plaited design was complete, Sophia turned to Sir Percy, presented a smile, and dipped into a curtsy as he bowed in turn.
If Beon’s expression had confused her previously, Sir Percy’s look had her utterly bewildered. One thing was certain, Sir Percy was definitely considering her for a bride. How did she feel about that? Would Father care if a union with Sir Percy wasn’t something she wanted as well? If she knew her father, Sophia wouldn’t likely have a say in the matter. She next wondered how Beon would respond if Father made a choice he didn’t agree with.
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