by S E Turner
The girls smiled and waved at her. Saskia always greeted them that way. Asher was still blushing, and her heart was thumping after Vlavos had run past her. She loved the handsome young man from afar, and hoped that one day he would notice her.
'Did Vlavos go this way?' Saskia called out.
'Yes he did.' Asher called back and wished she could join Saskia, just to talk to him.
Saskia ran round the back of the dwelling and in through the kitchen. Moira was busy preparing supper. 'Have you had a good day Mistress Saskia?'
'I have Moira, thank you.' Saskia went to steal an apple, but one look from Moira told her that it would spoil her appetite, so she put it back.
'When will supper be ready?' she asked, just as her stomach began to rumble.
'Your mother said seven o' clock today. She is visiting a friend in the village, so she wanted it a bit later.'
'Who has she gone to see?'
'Madam Smythe, the pastor's wife. '
'Oh she is so lovely, mother will be having a wonderful time.'
Moira smiled back at her.
'And father?'
'He is in his office—as usual.'
'I will go and see him.'
Aiden Hall was a magnificent home and always looked beautiful in the summer sun. The pebble dashed stone building had two wings and each had a cathedral of chimneys that rose high into the air. The entrance hallway had a panelled gallery running along two sides. From here, the wide oak staircase spread out at the top and divided in two where they led off to the bedrooms and bathrooms. Beyond the entrance hall on the lower floor, mahogany doors opened to a dining room, a sitting room and an office where the master did all his official business. Paintings hung from the walls. Niche candles were scattered in-between. Furniture crafted from beech and oak adorned the rooms, and the polished floorboards were strewn with richly woven rugs. The kitchens and pantry were at the back of the property, and a small sitting room for the housekeeper was adjacent to that.
Saskia knocked on the door and entered at the sound of his voice. She rushed round to where he was sitting and plonked herself on his lap.
'Still not too old for a cuddle from your father then.'
'I will never be too old for a cuddle.' She squeezed him tightly. 'You work too hard father.' She noticed his mountain of paperwork.
He took off his glasses, rubbed his forehead and sighed. 'I know I do, but I have to live up to my predecessors. My great-great-grandfather started all of this from a tiny patch of land, so I have to work hard to keep it going for you and Vlavos.'
She squeezed him tightly again. 'I love you.'
'And I love you.' He kissed her cheek and stroked her hair.
He looked up at a portrait that hung from a wall. The image was of a beautiful woman with long dark hair. Green eyes shone out of the frame, and slender shoulders were draped in a ruby red shawl that matched her lips.
'You are the image of your mother you know.' Philipe looked lovingly at the portrait.
Saskia followed his glance. 'She is so beautiful.'
'Such a wonderful woman—and she chose me.' Philipe's love was monumental.
'And why wouldn't she choose you father? You are kind, funny, successful. A truly inspirational and admirable man. I hope I am lucky enough to meet someone like you. Someone who will love me as much as you love mother.' Saskia's praise was limitless.
Philipe looked back at the portrait of Nolene, then back at his daughter. 'Of course you will. You will marry the prince of princes, the king of kings, you will be adored and loved and never want for anything.' He kissed her hands.
Saskia smiled at his story. 'Maybe I will meet someone tomorrow. I am going to the Summer Fair at Condor Vale with Vlavos.'
A smile tugged at Philipe's mouth. He wanted her to meet someone. A worthy suitor who would give her the world. But not just yet, maybe in another two years when she was sixteen. So he concentrated on the latter part of her excitement.
'Condor Vale eh?... that place makes Aiden Hall look like a hovel,' he laughed.
'Nothing could make this place look like a hovel father, this is our home.' She hugged him tightly.
'Well it's a fine place, full of fine people, and I know you will have a wonderful time.'
'Who lives there?'
'Very important people. Very rich as well. Lord Eryk and Lady Matilda.' He raised his eyebrows and grinned. 'It is her family home and he has married into it.'
'I will marry someone like that.'
Her father smiled at her. 'Of course you will.'
'Why don't you come as well father?' Her face lit up at the thought. 'You can meet them.'
'Oh I am far too busy for that kind of thing, and the lord and lady won't want to meet a pauper like me. Besides, Vlavos is taking you.'
Her face dropped for a moment when her father said he wasn't going, but her spirit was rekindled at the mention of her brother.
'Yes, Vlavos said that now I am fourteen I can go with him.'
'He's a good brother to you isn't he. And I am safe in the knowledge that he will look after you. '
'He's the best. I am going to find him now. See what he wants me to do at the fair.'
'Okay, supper is at seven remember.' Philipe put his glasses back on the bridge of his nose and buried his face in his papers as his daughter jumped off his lap.
'Yes, Moira has already told me.' She planted a kiss on the top of her father's head and ran off to find Vlavos.
He was in the sitting room, finishing off the timetable for tomorrow's events. He looked like a lord in the ornate arm chair with a ream of papers by his side.
'Just in time.' He looked up at her and smiled.
'I've been to see father, he's busy with his paperwork as well.'
'Lot's to do at this time of year.' The freshly inked parchment held his gaze this time, but the other hand brushed a shaggy black fringe from his brow.
'Everything okay?' she inquired.
'Yes, just checking the stock and what we are going to charge for everything.'
She peered over his shoulder. 'Thank you for letting me come tomorrow.'
He took her hand in his own. 'It's about time you came along to this prestigious occasion, to see the very impressive Condor Vale—and you will see how much we really do produce on the homestead.'
'And how important everyone is on our farm.'
'Exactly,' he agreed.
He laid out the papers so she could see what was to be sold, and the price of everything next to it. 'We will have some help, as there is such a lot of produce, and of course we will need assistance transporting it all to our stall. But it will be such good fun, and a real learning curve for you.'
She sat on the floor at his side and poured over his itinerary. It was only when the bell sounded that they cleared it all away.
'Supper, then bed for you young lady, you've got a very busy day tomorrow and an early start.'
'I know, and I can't wait. Come on let's go and see if mother had a good day.'
Chapter Seven
The morning sun had just climbed over the mountains, and its bright rays, slanting down the slopes, were soaking the meadows with golden shards. The goats quietly grazing on the high pastures, cast long shadows where they stood. Tiller, the goat-herder, felt the warmth on his back—it was only six in the morning. Winta was with him, picking fresh herbs and plants for Moira. Atilus could be seen bringing his herd of cows down from the higher pastures for milking. And the farmhands were already ploughing and planting in the fields.
A road ran alongside the river and on it rode the convoy of horse drawn carts carrying the wares for the summer fair. Then a barge came into view alongside them, gliding down the waterway in a lazy breeze. The voices on the barges called out morning greetings to those on the road, they in turned waved back enthusiastically.
'They are all going to the summer fair Saskia.'
'All of them?' Her surprise rang out .
'Yes, it's the biggest fair in
the south, you will be amazed at the spectacle when we get there.'
'I didn't expect quite so many people.'
'Oh yes, I knew you would have to see it to believe it. But this is a tradition that is held every year on the summer equinox, where men, women and children can sell their goods and wares, and there is always a huge display of entertainment for everyone.'
She looked around in awe. 'I asked father to come with us you know.'
'What did he say?'
'That he was too busy.'
Vlavos noticed the disappointment on his sister's face. 'But you've got me, and we are going to have a grand time.'
She smiled up at him. 'Of course we will, and it's good that he allowed some of the workers to come and help us.' She turned round to wave at them, and friendly waves were returned. 'I'm so excited Vlavos, I truly am, and I can hardly wait to get there.' A huge beam of a smile spread across her face, and Vlavos snapped the reins to wake up the idle horses.
The smoke alerted them first, then the sounds of revellers drifting across the fields, and by the time they reached their destination, the swell of joyous participants and competitors was upon them. For beyond the colony, a hundred marquees had been erected beside the river, and the villagers gathered in their droves to take part in this year's fair. The splendour of it all took Saskia's breath away, and she really had no idea it would be on a scale that was so spectacular, and unlike anything she had seen before. The brilliant colours, the excitement of the crowds, the tents and banners flapping in the wind, but mostly the sheer amount of people. Many came on foot, some came by boat, several had pack horses and oxen loaded up with an incredible array of produce to trade. Fine weaves and materials, freshly ground herbs and spices, exquisite jewellery made from amber and jet, tailored garments made from animal skins; trinkets, utensils and culinary delights. But the most exciting part for everyone were the displays and entertainment, and the competitions most of all.
A lone trumpet sounded, and four standard bearers started the proceedings, each carrying huge crimson banners emblazoned with a golden condor. Behind the bearers came the guards of honour, holding onto shields of red and gold with a magnificent black condor in the middle. Drummers followed, and jugglers and minstrels and acrobats tumbled past. The young Viscount Mattius took the salute, alongside his mother; Lady Matilda of Condor Vale, and tipped their heads in recognition as the fanfare filed through.
The summer fair had begun, and a young man heralded his archery competition in a loud proud booming voice. 'Come on now, don't be shy. I have made lots of white wood bows and arrows for you all to use, and here is a magnificent mahogany bow for the winner; expertly crafted by my own hands, planed for a smooth finish and polished with layers of beeswax for this deep red shine.' He held aloft his precious offering. 'All I ask is that you do not use the girls as a target. '
He looked towards the forest, where, under the shade of the dappled autumn colours, the young women displayed their offerings on exquisitely vibrant stalls. He knew they were positioned far enough away though; he had shot a few arrows earlier in the day to make absolutely sure, and nodded to another lad who was setting up a catapult device for his throwing match.
Thousands of cook-fires filled the air with a grey, smoky haze, as a number of well rounded hogs and mutton were turned on spits and glazed with dripping fat. Herders could be seen driving their pigs. Shepherds could be heard whistling to their dogs. Impatient grooms were trying to settle fractious tournament horses, while the jousting competitors were trying to get ready in tents scattered around the ground.
Part of the forest had been felled to set up the jousting match. These were men proficient in the use of lances, swords and daggers, where each had a squire preparing them for battle and honing their array of weapons.
On another side of the felled forest were the archers fletching their arrows for their competition, and all around was the chaos of the crowds draped in shrill excitement. Vlavos and his party picked their way through the mayhem where fellow merchants and traders were still unloading their goods and setting up their stalls in this vast arena.
Condor Vale was a most impressive piece of architecture. Built from the quarry at Break Pass Ridge, and timber from the local forest, it was one of the finest homes in the kingdom. Glass had been imported from across the seas, and materials from exotic lands had been brought in. The most experienced master craftsmen had been involved in its construction, and over a thousand labourers had worked under them. Artists, upholsterers, and landscape gardeners, had all contributed to the grandeur; and today, it was an imposing backdrop for one of the most prestigious occasions in the kingdom.
'Come on Saskia, let's go and set up our stall over here, then we can watch the competitions at the end of the day.'
The troop from Aiden Hall set up their table of wares and made a grand display. Straight away a good deal of produce was sold, and Saskia was more than thrilled with the amount of money that they took. It was so busy that they barely had time to eat or drink. Though the constant swell of customers made the day go very quickly. She was especially pleased with how the candied nuts, sugared plums, lemon cakes and blueberry buns had sold. Courtesy of Moira and Winta, she thought to herself. It was a perfect day for a sweet treat, and a perfect day for Vlavos to go and watch a jousting match.
'You don't mind if I nip off to watch a match or two do you?' he asked.
'Of course I don't mind, but they won't be as good as our tournaments.'
Vlavos laughed. 'I'm going to get some tips so I can beat you at last.
'I think you need them, and a lot of them; so you had better go. Come back when you've learnt something.' Saskia smiled lovingly at him, and watched him run off into the thick of the games .
By the time he got there, the ground was churned up and poached. With evidence of battles and burnt pride, it was a graveyard of broken lances and chunks of armour. A metal slipper had been abandoned, a horse shoe wasn't far from it. Axes and mallets were useless now. A few silk handkerchieves had been discarded in defeat. Still, the crowd were hungry for more. The final two competitors vied each other from either end of the course, and Vlavos took his place with the revellers.
Regal and beautiful, the horses pawed the ground, and their mounts glittered as the brilliant sunshine shone from their silvery blue protective suits. The final two were ready. Jousts were raised. Helms were lowered. Tattered shields were held aloft to take one final battering. The silk scarf was dropped.
The jousters spurred their mounts towards victory. As they closed at the centre, the black horse reared as his master plunged a length of steel into his opponent. Dislodged but not unseated, the white horse carried his rider to the end of the course, turned around in a sort of dance, and pawed the ground. The rider gathered the reins and threw down his battered shield. It was worthless now, and only served to carry extra weight at this crucial point. The lance was raised, the blunted tip was almost broken off now. Fatigued with battering, the opponents looked equal pegging at this stage.
The black horse reared at the end of her causeway, the rider leaned forward into the rise and settled the mare into a high tempo trot. Gripping the staff and vamplate, the competitor was nearly ready. Turning the horse face on, the trot broke into a gallop. The white horse responded with a jolting lurch into speed. The excited audience were on their feet again. Dirt and grit shot out from under the hooves. The rumble of exertion could be felt, the snorting from the chargers could be heard, and still the throng cheered the competitors on.
This time the black mare was reined at exactly the right place. The rider aligned his weapon, peered through the frog-mouth helm, and with perfect precision and expert timing, unseated his opponent with one perfect strike.
Flowers were thrown onto the course, the crowd shouted in appreciation and applauded in delight. The victor went up to receive the winner's scarf from the elected summer maiden, and the loser limped off to nurse his wounds.
Vlavos was ecstatic w
ith enthusiasm. He wanted to joust. He ran back to tell Saskia of the tremendous thrill it was, and how the ladies swooned at the victor.
'You don't need to win a jousting match to have the ladies swoon at you, you've got enough admirers back home.' She thanked a customer for their custom by way of a nod and a smile, and put the shilling in her apron.
Vlavos was still fired up. 'But it's so much fun; and so much skill is required. I'm definitely going to practise so I can take part next year, and I'll be the jousting champion of the summer fair.'
Saskia shook her head endearingly, but smiled and left him in his thoughts while she served another customer .
Much merriment abounded that day. Champions were hailed and records were broken, and as the day drew to a close, the teams began to congregate for the final activity of the games; the boy's tug of war.
'Come and watch this one with me Saskia, ' he urged. 'Everyone is watching this one—even our farmhands.'
'I would like that, and I need to sit down with a sausage roll and a cold beer.'
'So do I,' he agreed, and took her arm as he led the way.
The rope snatched tight. The team on the left were strong. Their boys began pulling and shouting. Froth and spit burst from bellowing mouths. Sweat poured down straining faces. Snot and phlegm mixed in quantities as veins popped out of developing muscles charged with energy.
'Stay focused,' a voice on the right called out. 'Let them tire first, keep a grip, dig deep with your legs, they are pulling with their arms and will tire quickly. Hold on men, dig deep. Keep pushing into the ground.'
Their feet stood firm in the soil, while the team on the left used up their energy with a pulling action. They seemed to be in a stalemate for ages, with the red centre of the rope hovering over the line. Arms were burning just by keeping it taught, strenuous activity and pumping hearts filled the arena. The team on the right began to feel the tension of the rope edging their way, and words of determination from a strong voice split the air.
'Boys pull now. '
They pulled.