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THE LION AND THE LEOPARD
The Knights of England Series
Book One
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"Did you dream of him again, the golden knight?" Maria d'Arderne whispered to her twin. "Tell me again about him. Does he truly shine like the sun?"
Eleanora sighed. "Go to sleep."
Maria shifted on her pillow, causing the tallow candle on her side of the bed to flicker and create sinister shadows upon chamber walls. "I wish I had the sight," she said. "Then I would not have to ask you about my future."
"I am not a soothsayer." Eleanora turned toward her sister in the dark. "Who knows whether such dreams are real or simply fancies?"
"Will I meet him soon? Might we someday wed?"
Eleanora reached out to touch her twin's cheek. "If my sight is true in this instance, then I wish for you your knight."
"Thank you," Maria said fervently. "But would you tell me exactly—"
"If you do not let me sleep, how can I ever hope to dream of him?"
"Aye, aye. I'll not say another word."
"Good night, sister." Eleanora settled back upon the feather mattresses and folded her hands atop their fur coverlet.
"Good night."
Maria lay silently, willing her body to be still as a statue's, her breathing to slow. After a time, she whispered, "Eleanora?"
A gentle snore was her sister's reply.
Cheshire, 1314
Above the jagged line of Cheshire's Wirral Forest the morning sky showed red as a hart's blood. Richard Plantagenet, Earl of Sussex, reined in his gray stallion at the edge of the trees. The other members of his hunting party followed suit. When Richard dismounted, Rolf the Huntsman plunged deeper into the forest, still dark shadowed and cold with the lingering breath of night. Handlers followed, skillfully controlling the lymers, brachets, and greyhounds straining on their leashes.
"A perfect spot to break fast." Lady Constance Warenne smiled at Richard. After motioning her servants to spread cloths and lay forth meat, wine, and bread, Lady Constance moved toward Richard. The earl turned his back.
More pleasant to face a screaming battalion of Scots than Constance Warenne so early of a summer morn.
A triumphant baying emerged from the Wirral's interior.
"The hounds must have found the deer's spoor, m'lord." Phillip Rendell, the Herefordshire knight, moved toward Richard. The two men were similarly matched in physique though Phillip's hair was black, while Richard's was as golden as the royal lion gracing his tunic.
"Sit with me, will you not, Sir Rendell?"
Richard found the baron's unobtrusive manner pleasing. As one of Richard's vassals, Phillip was obligated to him, his liege lord, for the usual terms of military service, but Richard knew full well that many in his retinue sought his approval primarily for the hope of personal gain. As a second son, Phillip was most definitely in need of favors, but he gave no indication of seeking anything more than Richard's comradeship. They had fallen into such an easy camaraderie that Richard sometimes felt he'd known the older knight all his twenty-one years, rather than a scant fortnight.
Besides, Phillip Rendell could provide relief from the constant Constance, who had attached herself to Richard's right.
Saints protect me from that woman.
Recently widowed and enjoying the freedom that came with great wealth, not to mention great ambition, Constance Warenne was too old to provide the comfortable number of heirs necessary to ensure the Sussex legacy, as well as too forward for his tastes. Not a suitable marriage match, even if Richard had been so inclined.
As the meal proceeded, Phillip, at least, ate without unnecessary conversation. Constance, however, gossiped about the guests at yester eve's banquet and Richard's forthcoming meeting at Berwick Castle with his half-brother, King Edward. Her invasive laughter shattered the hour's softness. Who could hear the shy trill of a mockingbird, the forest stirrings over Constance's ear-wrenching voice? If one deer remained in all of Wirral Forest, it must be deaf as Margarite, the Queen Mother.
Lady Constance leaned against Richard's shoulder. Her petite figure and bland countenance seemed at odds with her bold nature, but wasn't that the way with women?
"I hope when you ride north to battle the heathen Scots, sire, you send their leader to the block. I can think of no finer sight than to see Robert the Bruce's head stuck atop a pike."
Richard's eyes met Phillip's. The glimmer of a smile danced across the baron's full mouth.
Constance licked heavily be-ringed fingers sticky with venison juice. "Aye, I hope to see Bruce brought as low as that grasping, greedy Piers Gaveston. 'Twas a great day for England when Thomas Lancaster divested the favorite's pretty head from his body."
Richard's hand, which had been reaching for a cup of wine, froze. His eyebrows met in an angry line. "You forget to whom you speak, lady. You would do well to keep your opinion of His Grace's friends to yourself."
Fighting to control his temper, Richard turned away. He had not liked the avaricious Gaveston either, and had chafed at his cavalier use of England's Great Seal, as well as his arrogance and insatiable appetite for property. But Edward had loved Piers, and his grief over his favorite's death had been terrible to witness. Gaveston's sins might have been great, but so had been his fall.
From the forest, Rolf the Huntsman emerged, strode to Richard and bowed.
"What have you found, Rolf?" The earl stood and tossed the dregs of his wine onto the dew-damp grass. "Is the stag of a good size?"
"I measured his tracks with me fingers, m'lord, and the velvet of his antlers that's left on the tree trunks. 'Tis my belief that he is a stout stag and worthy." Rolf thrust a hunting horn in Richard's face. "I gathered a bit of his fumes, m'lord, if you would care to judge for yourself."
Richard firmly pushed away the huntsman's hand. "That is unnecessary, Rolf. I'll trust your judgment." The earl had no desire to poke about deer droppings, no matter what their contents might reveal.
"Then I might take the dogs, sire?"
"Aye."
Lady Constance stood and brushed grass from her skirt while casting a sidelong glance at Richard. "Oh, I canna wait for the hunt. There is nothing quite so exhilarating as seeing a fine stag brought to bay, is there, my lord?"
Richard could think of all manner of unchivalrous replies. Instead, he ignored her. Undeterred, Constance slipped her arm through his. He firmly replaced it at her side.
Perhaps I will leave for Berwick Castle earlier than planned, he thought. Say, immediately after the hunt.
Constance's first husband had been far older, had died conveniently within a year of their nuptials, and left Constance with an abundance of properties. But Richard was in no hurry to marry and was sure, when duty so decreed, he could find a more pleasing match.
As they remounted, Richard turned to Phillip. "When the time comes, would you care to kill the stag?"
A smile lightened his vassal's dark features. "I would consider it a great honor, m'lord."
Such a little thing to please Phillip. Richard removed his ivory olifant from its saddle strap. Would that all my vassals were so easily pleased.
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Mary Ellen Johnson's writing career began with her passion for Medieval England. Her first novel, The Lion and the Leopard, has recently been re-worked and is available on Kindle as The Cherry Fair. The Landlord's Black-Eyed Daughter, a historical novel based on the Alfred Noyes poem, "The Highwayman," was published under the pseudonym, Mary Ellen Dennis.
In 1992, Mary Ellen's life took a 20 year detour when she became involved in a local murder. Later she championed the fifteen-year-old, Jacob Ind, who killed his abusive parents and chronicled that event in The Murder of Jacob (Kindle). Mary Ellen remains the Executive Director of The Pendulum Foundation, a non-profit that serves kids serving life in prison. In that position, she and the issue of juvenile life without parole have been featured in Rolling Stone, on PBS Frontline (When Kids Get Life), the 2013 documentary, Lost for Life, and on countless radio, TV and print outlets.
As Mary Ellen's goal of sentencing reform nears its successful completion, she has returned her attention to her first love, novel writing. In addition to The Cherry Fair, a loosely based sequel, War of a Long Season, will be published in 2014. She is researching her next project, a psychological thriller, that she'll write with her friend, Jacob Ind. (Still incarcerated, hopefully soon freed.) Their collaboration will draw on Jacob's knowledge of prison, its culture and its characters, as well as Mary Ellen's inside knowledge of the political and justice system. And, since her favorite film is Body Heat, expect steamy noir with lots of twists and turns!
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