Lady fit for a Lord

by Ling, Maria

Juliana quelled a sigh. She wished she could be worthy of such a man. Meet him as an equal: a woman in command of herself, matching his strength of character and purpose. Instead of what she was, a silly girl who knew nothing about anything.

  She watched without seeing as pair after pair of mounted men crashed against each other. Very skilfully, she could not fail to notice that. The way they held themselves, balanced and certain, able to deliver blows of such controlled strength, spoke of many years of practice. But she didn't much care who won or lost, as long as no one got hurt.

  Here was Emmanuel again, meeting a youth she was familiar with - Jean de Cote, son to a neighbouring lord. Mother had hinted more than once that he might be interested in taking a wife. Juliana had turned a deaf ear to such conversation.

  Still, Jean was pleasant enough, cheerful and handsome, brotherly in a teasing way. She wished him well. Certainly she hoped he would not fare too badly in this encounter.

  He did not. Lasted through the first blow, was flung mercilessly to ground by the second. Juliana watched him with sympathy, then turned an accusing gaze on Emmanuel. Who merely dipped his head a fraction, and rode off to compose himself for the next enemy.

  Jean limped from the field, supported by a squire. He seemed more chastened than harmed, shook his head at a fellow combatant and raised his hands in a gesture of self-deprecation. Juliana was relieved to see him ease off from the squire's ready shoulder and hobble unassisted towards the tents that clustered in the meadow by the lane.

  "Oh my," Mother said, in a flustered tone quite unlike her usual self-contained one. Juliana shot her a suspicious glance, then checked the next pair of combatants. Yes indeed: there was Guillaume, tall and arrogant, staring down his drawn opponent. Ralph de Niege, Juliana observed with a twinge of pity. She rated him highly, but from what she'd seen this morning she doubted he would last long against a man like Guillaume.

  He proved her wrong, though, and fared better than she'd guessed. Not that he came off victorious, not by a long way, but he held to the saddle for the requisite three blows and even got one of his own in. Juliana applauded with enthusiasm, because she could see the skill and determination with which he fought.

  Guillaume, by contrast, sat so negligently in the saddle that she wondered if he'd really paid much attention to the bout. Though it could be for show, he seemed the kind of man who'd take care over appearances. Juliana liked that as a rule, but somehow it troubled her in Guillaume. She had a sense that there was a great deal more to him than met the eye, and not much she would approve of.

  Unlike Emmanuel, who even now stood helmetless by the barriers and eyed Guillaume with speculative interest. Him she did not doubt in the least. Emmanuel was solid worth all the way through, Juliana felt certain of that. He might dissemble, but he was not the kind of man who would deceive.

  Or so she guessed. She did not truly know.

  Juliana shot a sideways glance at Mother. And then at Father, who had known Emmanuel at least as long. He was reminiscing again, she hadn't been listening, but a stray reference caught her notice. It was a story Emmanuel had related to her the day before, told from a different point of view.

  And what a story it was. Emmanuel came out of it a great deal more heroic than he had hinted at himself. Juliana listened with rapt attention. This was the man she admired.

  Which perhaps was the root of her problem. She admired him, dreamed of sharing his life - but the figure she saw was her own invention. He symbolised for her every noble aspect of manhood. When in truth he was no symbol and no ideal: just a man, admirable to be sure, but as human and real and fallible as herself.

  She had never confronted that truth before. Never had to. Because on some level, she had never fully accepted the reality of an actual life with him.

  Did she still want him for a husband? Juliana didn't know. She believed so, despised herself for such hesitation - yet she paused. She wasn't even sure she knew him well enough, as the person he genuinely was, to be able to answer that question.

  "I always thought him pleasant," Caroline said, from her seat a few steps away from Juliana. "A little curt, perhaps, at times."

  'Only with you', Juliana wanted to reply. But that would be cruel, and unfair. Caroline was the person she was, without fakery or dissembling. Not to everyone's taste, perhaps, but honest and unaffected. If Emmanuel didn't like her much, that didn't mean she was in the wrong.

  There were a lot of good qualities in Caroline, and Juliana appreciated them to the full. Admired them, even. Her courage, for one thing: the clarity with which she held to her own views and goals, the absolute indifference she showed towards those who insisted she must compromise her own nature for their comfort and convenience. Juliana would like to borrow a little of that.

  Juliana herself strove to be exemplary in all things. Mother demanded it, and Juliana complied. It was the only way she had found to earn attention and affection.

  Which did not seem entirely healthy, now that she reflected on it.

  What did she want, then? She, Juliana, alone and answerable entirely to God? In truth she did not know. Had never thought about it all that much.

  A pleasant husband, yes. She did want that. Even aside from the flurry of emotion she felt every time she saw or thought of Emmanuel. A man devoted to her, capable and strong, a man she could look up to. Yes. She did desire that.

  Security. Certainty. Most definitely that. She had heard of families who travelled from place to place, monitoring estates or seeking patronage. Such a life was not for her. Juliana wanted stability and order, no matter what.

  So far she resembled Mother. Yet Juliana was not really like Mother at all, she had known that for a very long time. Understood her, valued and loved and respected her. Yes, all those things.

  But for all that she stood in Mother's shadow, similar enough that people smiled indulgently and complimented them both, Juliana was distinctly her own person. She knew that as an absolute fact. She just wasn't sure exactly who.

  Or whether that person matched Emmanuel - as he truly was, away from all her hopes and dreams and imaginings.

  Or whether he even saw her as she truly was, away from Mother's shadow.

  How to find out, though? Juliana cast her mind through various solutions. None of them appealed to her. She did not want to be laughed at, lectured, dismissed or reassured. She wanted honest answers to simple questions, without scheming or care for what was supposed to be the case.

  Caroline, then. Juliana glanced sideways at her sister, currently holding forth on some uninteresting topic. Not a kind or sympathetic listener, as a rule. But the most truthful person Juliana had ever encountered.

  She would speak to Caroline. This evening, if possible.

  Until then, Juliana decided, she would put all such concerns aside and simply enjoy this splendid occasion.

  ***

  Juliana slipped through the crowd, amazed by her own daring. She was hungry, and rather than secure a companion to attend her to the food stalls, she had chosen to head off alone. Which meant that although she was surrounded by people, she was entirely unattended. Probably for the first time in her life. It was a strange and exciting sensation, though in truth her daredevil behaviour seemed to go completely unnoticed. Everyone around her was busy chatting over the morning's events and speculating on what might transpire during the afternoon.

  The tiltyard was being cleared and swept, while acrobats and jugglers entertained those who lingered in the stands. The knights and squires were absent, hidden away in the sprawl of tents while they readied themselves for the next challenge.

  As far as Juliana could gather, this would involve precision riding, mostly with fresh horses, and giving the youths a chance to shine alongside the full-grown men.

  She looked forward to it very much. The notion appealed to her taste for exactness. So Juliana ventured forth now, while there was still time in hand, to secure some refreshment for herself. And to stretch her legs, which had begun to pro
test at so long a stillness.

  Even so, she was keen to hurry back. Some of the tricks on display were truly marvellous.

  Carrying a laden trencher in both hands, the bread still faintly warm against her fingers, she stepped neatly through such gaps as she could find in the press of bodies. Fetched up at the foot of the stand, but found her path blocked by a familiar youth.

  "Hello," Jean de Cote said, with the ease of an honorary brother. "Let me help you with that."

  "Thank you, but I can manage." Juliana smiled at him vaguely, a little distracted by the milling throng around her and the flashes of colour from the tiltyard. She did not want to appear rude, but this was hardly the time to stop and chat. "Have you eaten?" she asked, by way of tempting him to leave. "You'll want something before you ride this afternoon."

  "Probably," Jean admitted. "Though I'm not on for a while yet. Might as well wait for the crush to dwindle. God, I've never seen so many people in one place."

  "You fought well this morning," Juliana said politely. "I hope you were not hurt."

  "Oh." Jean flushed. "No. I'm fine. Thank you. There, it's thinning - I'll go and eat now." He strode off without further word.

  Juliana worried that she had been tactless. He'd been comprehensively defeated, after all. But her compliment had not been a lie. He'd looked capable enough, just not a match for the man who'd vanquished him.

  But then, who could equal Emmanuel? No one, surely. Juliana smirked a little to herself as she carried her trencher up into the stand. Then grew pensive as she considered the likes of Guillaume.

  But this afternoon's display would not be about brute strength. That was for tomorrow's event, the grand tournament on open ground. For now, she could look forward to a celebration of elegant skill.

  This she would enjoy. Juliana took her seat, nibbled on a sliver of roasted meat, and gave herself over to admiration of the tricks on display.

  The sweepers, working around the entertainment, laid aside their rakes, then began to haul in and set up fanciful new constructions. Targets, fences, and thickets of poles grew from the sanded earth. Juliana studied them with interest.

  The entertainers took a final bow and disappeared. Clusters of youths began to stroll through the course, followed by clusters of men. Juliana watched them pause over each turn, swap comments, consider. Emmanuel, freed from armour and sporting a rumpled tunic, grinned at Alan, who shrugged and laughed in return.

  A compliment, perhaps, Juliana mused. The two men appeared to get on well, and that made her happy to see.

  Soon the course lay empty again, while squires on horseback massed at the entrance to the tiltyard. The stands swarmed with spectators returning to their seats, and a buzz of anticipation rose in the air.

  The first of the squires rode out, one of the boys Alan had in training. A storm of applause greeted him, presumably by way of courtesy to his master. Perhaps the encouragement was too strong, for he clattered a fence down and lost his turn amid the poles, and was ignominiously sent from the field by Alan's steward, who officiated as marshal for the day.

  Juliana pitied the boy, but soon forgot all about him as other riders attempted the course with varying degrees of success. Alan's other squire did surprisingly well, as did boys from Emmanuel's retinue and Guillaume's. More youths rode on, and Juliana began to see patterns of misjudgements and mistakes.

  Not that she believed she could do any better. On horseback she was merely competent - at best. The tight angles and perfect timing required by this course lay well beyond her, she could see that as squires sweated and cursed.

  When the youths had ended their session, there was a lengthy ceremony of congratulations and presentations. Juliana was delighted to see Jean de Cote honoured with a small gift. He'd had a good run, she thought - rather slow and careful, but showing a reasonable degree of skill.

  Another interval followed, during which assistants cleared away the implements, swept the tiltyard earth and set up a new course for the knights. This was far more daunting, with odd twists and sudden demands. Juliana would have been happy to stay and watch it being built complete, but Merin begged for a companion to the food stalls and Juliana yielded.

  "I liked the one for the squires," Merin said as they descended. "It would have been fun to see what the knights made of it."

  "Too simple for them," Juliana guessed. She was learning a lot about Alan from watching the way his mind worked. "There will be some considerable challenges here for the men."

  "I suppose so." Merin paused at the foot of the stands to survey the bones of the course. "Emmanuel doesn't seem to like it much."

  Juliana spun around to see. Emmanuel stood staring at one of the fences, a frown resting on his face. As she watched, he turned to pace out the distance to the turn, swung to pace towards the next fence, shook his head slowly.

  "He doesn't," Juliana agreed. The corner turn did look fearfully tight. It would be quite a test of his horsemanship.

  "Let's get the food," Merin urged. "I don't want to miss any of the riding."

  Juliana could not oppose such a wish. She sent Emmanuel a silent blessing and wish for good luck, then followed her sister towards the stalls.

  They were a little tardy returning, mostly due to Merin's inability to walk and eat at the same time. Juliana heard the hoofbeats and the cheers, worried that she might miss the rider who interested her the most. But there were plenty yet to come before him, she saw as she arrived back at the stands. She had time to regain her seat before even Ralph de Niege, in whom her interest was only mild, came onto the course.

  He really was good. Juliana acknowledged it with ungrudging delight. The horse stepped deftly underneath him, and his strikes were accurate on the targets. He rode off to the accompaniment of thunderous applause, and the men charged with scoring nodded as they consulted each other's notes.

  Other riders followed, all skillful but few exceptional. Then Guillaume appeared, larger than life and with a horse that moved like a swirl of wind. Juliana watched with reluctant but genuine admiration as the pair of them danced through the course and made a whirr of admiration rise from the throng.

  The contestants that followed seemed lacklustre by comparison, though in fairness their quality was probably the equal of those who had preceded Guillaume. He simply had the ability to dazzle, to the point where all else grew dim and faded.

  Except for Emmanuel. He shone like a beacon before her, from the moment he rode into the yard. He rode a younger horse than earlier, a sleek and quick-moving animal with an impulsive bounce in its step that made Juliana smile. She glanced aside at Merin, helpless to resist the comparison, but her sister was chatting to some new-found friend and had no attention to spare.

  The rest of the crowd agreed with Juliana's assessment, though - at least the majority of them did. Indulgent smiles and voices surrounded her. Then Emmanuel rode the course, and all fell silent.

  He really was a fine horseman. Juliana had always considered him capable, but there had never been much cause to admire the finesse of his skill. Now she learned that he had a clear eye for angles and lines, and a boldness of approach that spoke to her.

  This was the man who had guided her through the crowd of strangers with confident ease, the man who commanded his household troops with unquestioned authority. Not the family friend she had known all her life, nor yet the tender lover she had only just discovered.

  A man she could respect and admire, as well as cherish and love.

  A splendid man, without a doubt. Exemplifying all the best qualities of manhood, as she understood them. The ideal husband she might aspire to. Small wonder that she had been in love with him for so long - or at least imagined herself to be so.

  Now that she knew herself a little better, the fears and doubts she carried underneath her hopes and dreams, she recognised that his apparent perfection was not the point at issue.

  The central question now, for her, was whether he truly was a man she would be happy living alon
gside. Not in a daydream, but in reality. And not for an hour or a day, or even a week - but forever.

  "Goodness," Mother said, as Emmanuel brought his excellent ride to a close. "I do believe we may have the day's winner."

  "Don't underestimate my husband," Caroline said with a contented smile, as Alan rode forward to take Emmanuel's place.

  "I suppose he has the advantage of having set the course," Mother teased.

  Juliana studied the pair of them. Married women both, serene in the joy of settled bliss. Very different in all other respects, but for a moment the similarity between them was striking.

  At least to her eyes, looking on from the outside, craving the happiness they had.

  She turned her attention back to Emmanuel, jumped as she found him watching her from the dismounting area beyond the yard. Allowed herself to feel the swirl of desire once more - just for a little while, safe here among her family.

  Then she forced herself to watch Alan ride, and promised herself to speak with Caroline that evening.

  ***

  "I don't know," Caroline told Juliana. "What is it that you want out of life? If you didn't have to concern yourself with anyone else's opinion. What is your dream?"

  They were huddled on Caroline's bed, combing each other's hair in turn. Cosy together, as they had not been for many years. Long ago, as little girls, they had been close friends as well as sisters. Juliana had not realised before how much she missed that friendship.

  Who better to help her unravel this tangled riddle of her own love, than one who had known her heart since the days when she poured it out freely, before she learned caution and care?

  Juliana pondered. "A nice place to live," she said eventually. "A kind man to love. Order. Silence." That last word surprised her. She hadn't meant to say it - hadn't even known it was coming. "I don't mean that I mind a bit of noise," she added hastily, thinking of the customary chaos at home. "Of course it's wonderful when everyone is happy. But." Now that she came to reflect on it, this was exactly what she wanted. She knew it with a certainty that startled her, because she had seldom felt so sure of anything before. "A quiet, peaceful, orderly place that is mine." And Emmanuel. Her mind supplied that detail, though her mouth stubbornly refused to acknowledge it.