Super Summer Set of Historical Shorts

by Laurel O'Donnell

  The large one-room structure was much bigger and grander than the one at home. The lofty ceiling had beams stretched across a ceiling which was at least forty feet high. Welcoming banners and tapestry hung on the walls, providing bright colors. So far everything about Camelot was beautiful.

  The floor was strewn with fresh rushes, which smelled of the lavender, roses, and mint that had been sprinkled on them.

  The king and queen sat on a raised dais of wood at the upper end of the hall upon massive chairs with a blue canopy overhead. Usually there would be trestle tables set up for the soldiers, but they had been dismantled during the day to give more room.

  The knights were missing from the room, and Noelle realized she’d been holding her breath, which she promptly let out. At least she had a little more time before she had to meet her future husband.

  King Arthur nodded with a smile. “Noelle, you have grown into a lovely woman.”

  Noelle blushed as she came to stand before the king. She curtsied. “You are most kind, your majesty,” Noelle said as she studied the kind face of the king. He had gray hair and a matching beard, but his eyes were the vibrant blue that she always remembered when he’d visited her father.

  “Tristan, I hope you will join my knights in training. They are preparing for the joust and games we will be having for Christmas.”

  “I would be honored, sire.”

  “Good.” Arthur nodded and turned his attention back to Noelle. “I believe that you and Guinevere are old friends.” He reached over and placed a hand on the queen’s arm, and Noelle could see in his eyes the affection that he had for Guinevere.

  Guinevere smiled. Her two ladies-in-waiting were dressed in gay dresses, but Guinevere’s beauty surpassed all around her. With dark brown hair that swirled past her waist, she looked every bit the queen and not the young girl who used to ride with Noelle. A gold chain was wrapped around her forehead. Her complexion was flawless.

  “Your majesty.” Noelle curtsied.

  “It has been much too long, Noelle,” Guinevere said, then stood. “I have looked forward to seeing you again. Come.” She extended her hands to Noelle.

  “You have been traveling a long way,” Guinevere said as she took Noelle’s hands, then called to a servant. “Ruth, please show these ladies to their chambers.”

  “This way, if you please,” Ruth said to Carolyn and Isabelle.

  “I will walk with you for a while,” Guinevere said to Noelle.

  As they started after the maid, Noelle said, “It is so good to see you, your majesty.”

  Guinevere raised her brow.

  Noelle laughed. “You look so much like a queen and not the girl I once confided all my secrets to,” she explained.

  Guinevere chuckled. “I am still the same. Only the clothes are different. It’s tiresome to be constantly surrounded by big, husky men, so it will be a pleasure to have someone near my age at the castle. Maybe you and your ladies would like to accompany me on the morrow to collect greenery for the castle.”

  “I would like that.”

  They traveled down a long hallway, then turned to their right and continued down another long hall. Wainscoting that had been painted green spangled with silver stretched down the hall. Her own castle did not have hallways—one room led to another—but she’d heard that King Arthur had especially designed his castle to be like none before. Wall hangings of painted wool adornments were on every wall.

  “There will be a feast tonight where you will meet Sir Gavin. I imagine that you are excited about that,” Lady Guinevere said.

  “Nay,” Noelle admitted.

  “Really?” Guinevere said in an odd tone as she stopped in front of a door, then opened it. “Here are your chambers, and your ladies will sleep beyond in the smaller solar.” Guinevere pointed as the servant took Isabelle and Carolyn to their solar. “I will have someone bring your trunks,” Guinevere said.

  “Thank you,” Noelle said, then thought about her earlier comment. “I didn’t mean to be so abrupt, but this marriage . . .” she sighed, “was not my idea.”

  Guinevere took Noelle’s hand and squeezed it. “I know, but you might be surprised and fancy Sir Gavin. Were you not the one who was always looking for that special knight? Sir Gavin is a fine knight.”

  “I might like him, but the point is I love him not. I would marry for love.”

  “Love. What we all hope for.” Guinevere sighed wistfully. “But love is not perfect, my dear,” she said as she walked over to the window. “Sometimes love can be confusing and can hurt.” She glanced back at Noelle. “What if you loved someone who cared naught for you in return or what if you loved someone you could not have?”

  “That would be painful indeed,” Noelle said, “but if I truly loved him, I would find some way to become his.”

  Guinevere stared at her for a moment. “I believe that you would. I sense a fighter in you. Let us hope that Sir Gavin is all that you long for.” Her voice had an infinitely compassionate tone. “I shall go now and let you rest—then you can prepare for the feast. On the morrow, we can ride out and gather greenery. This is one Christmas that I look forward to.” She paused at the door and smiled. “Please invite your lovely ladies to join us. My ladies will attend also.”

  Guinevere had no sooner gotten out the door than Carolyn and Isabelle rushed into the chamber.

  “What did she say?” Isabelle asked.

  “What do you think of the queen?” Carolyn added before Noelle could respond.

  Noelle regarded her companions with amusement. “You know perfectly well what the queen said because you were both listening.”

  “But did she say anything about Sir Lancelot?”

  “Or Sir Osborn?”

  These two were hopeless romantics.

  “I am certain that King Arthur’s knights will be required to have guards around them for protection from you two,” Noelle said.

  “From us, milady?” Isabelle said as she pointed to herself innocently.

  “Do you blame us, milady? We are at court with the boldest and bravest knights in all of England,” Carolyn said. “Not to mention something to behold.”

  Isabelle nudged Carolyn with her elbow. “Aye, and probably just ripe for the picking.” The teasing laughter returned to her eyes.

  “Isabelle,” Noelle said. “Remember, you are a lady.”

  “A lady I might be . . .” Isabelle paused and then gave her companions a conspiratorial wink, “but I have lots of healthy blood in me.”

  In a small room off Noelle’s chamber, a large wooden tub had been set up in front of the hearth.

  The bathman had filled the tub and sprinkled the water with dried rose petals, as chambermaids waited to assist Noelle. She dismissed them, wanting to be alone as she soaked.

  She needed some time to herself. So much had happened and she wanted time to think.

  Soon she was engulfed in warm water, resting her head on the back of the tub. She had to figure out how to escape this marriage without hurting her people. There had to be a way. She simply had not thought of it yet.

  Shutting her eyes, she let her arms float in the warm water and then she remembered the kiss.

  His kiss.

  The one forbidden kiss that had made her long for more. She sighed. That would be her secret.

  “You must be having a pleasant dream by the way you are smiling,” Carolyn teased as she swept into the small room to attend to Noelle.

  “Aye. ’Tis one I would like to relive again.”

  “Tell, tell,” Isabelle chirped in right behind Carolyn.

  Noelle hoped her smile was noncommittal as she looked at them. “Someday I will tell you both, but for now it’s my secret. You two go get dressed. Or we will never make it downstairs.”

  After they left, Noelle knew she hadn’t heard the last from Isabelle. Isabelle couldn’t bear secrets that she knew nothing about. Therefore, it gave Noelle pleasure in teasing her.

  Noelle slipped on the emerald
-green cotehardie that Carolyn had placed on the bed. The sleeves were full and tied at intervals so the tighter-fitting sleeves of her kirtle beneath would show and provide a good contrast. The green velvet added some warmth.

  Noelle realized that she was cold. She swung around to look at the fire. It had burned down to embers and needed stirring.

  Moving over to the hearth, she picked up a few small logs that had been left in a large basket and tossed two onto the grate. Sparks leapt up the chimney, and she stepped quickly back to avoid getting her gown singed.

  “Mustn’t go ruining your dress when there are servants to do such work,” Carolyn said as she and Isabelle returned.

  “It’s better than freezing while I wait. And you both should know that I am no helpless simpleton.” Noelle paused and looked at them. One had dressed in light blue and the other in a darker blue velvet.

  They were so excited that they were radiant. “You two are beautiful tonight. King Arthur’s knights do not stand a chance.”

  “I’ll wager that someone is nervous.” Carolyn laughed. “You have not done your hair.”

  “I dread this meeting,” Noelle admitted. She felt the screams of frustration at the back of her throat. She had to escape this marriage somehow.

  “Sit.” Isabelle pointed to the chair. “We’ll not have you shame us. Let me fix your hair.”

  Noelle obeyed, wondering how she could have gotten two bold and brazen, not to mention bossy, ladies-in-waiting. Most were meek and mild.

  Isabelle brushed Noelle’s hair until it glistened like gold threads. Then she pulled the golden mass up on the sides and wound gold chains through her honeyed curls. “I think we have it,” Isabelle proclaimed. “Let us be off ... our knights await.”

  They could see the glow of light long before they arrived at the Great Hall. They paused in the doorway to take in the sight before them. It appeared that a hundred rush lights were suspended from the sconces on the walls, providing good light for the room. The air smelled of juniper from the roaring fire.

  The Great Hall was full of knights and ladies and their retinues. Two long trestle tables had been set up for the feast, but so far no one had taken their seats. Noelle glanced at the dais where Arthur and Guinevere stood talking to Tristan and two other gentlemen she didn’t know.

  There was a saltcellar in front of where the king would sit; all the tables had already been set with pewter bowls, awaiting the guests to take their places.

  “Have we died? Is this heaven?” Isabelle whispered playfully to Carolyn.

  “Aye,” Carolyn nodded. “They are better than I imagined. Have you ever seen such brawny men?”

  “It’s too hard to pick. Maybe we could have several.”

  Noelle joined in their fun. “You’re welcome to mine.”

  “He is sure to be a fine one,” Carolyn admitted. “But look at the one who just entered the hall. Every lady has turned her head yet he has acknowledged no one.”

  Isabelle took a deep breath. “I think I will go over. Someone must introduce us.”

  Noelle’s eyes widened. For there in the doorway dressed in crimson and black, was a warrior who certainly stood out in the crowd. Every ounce of him exuded strength and power. The lights made his dark brown hair glisten as his amber eyes searched the crowd like a predator’s.

  Never in her wildest dreams did she think she would ever see him again. So he wasn’t a peasant. He was anything but.

  He was bold and commanding as he surveyed the room. Would he remember her? Would he embarrass her in front of the king?

  She swung around.

  Isabelle and Carolyn gaped at Noelle’s sudden movement. They both asked, “Do you know him?”

  “Who?”

  “The knight you were just gawking at,” Isabelle said.

  “No—no, I don’t know him.” Noelle gathered up her skirt. “Now if you will excuse me, I am going to meet my future husband,” Noelle said, not glancing back at either as she left. They would ask too many questions if she stayed. However, she did hear their parting remarks.

  “Since when does she want to meet her future husband?” Isabelle asked.

  “Since she doesn’t want us to ask any more questions.”

  “We will find out more later,” Isabelle said, and then she nudged Carolyn. “It’s time to find an introduction to some of these knights. I wonder which is Lancelot.”

  “Let’s go find out.”

  CHAPTER 3

  As Noelle made her way to Guinevere and Tristan, she could hear murmuring all around her. Many different conversations were taking place, but she felt as though every eye was on her. She knew it was her imagination. Then she thought, Was he looking at her?

  “Here she is now,” Guinevere said. The queen was wearing a red overtunic, belted at the waist. The full, open, half-length sleeves ended in long, flowing tippets of white fur. She held out her hand to Noelle as she curtsied. “Sir Gavin, may I present the Lady Noelle.”

  Sir Gavin bowed low. “Milady, I’ve looked forward to this moment,” he said as he held her hand up so he could kiss the back.

  “Sir Gavin,” Noelle said. Drat! He was nice, she thought, and looked to her brother for help.

  Suddenly, she could think of nothing to say, so Tristan came to her rescue. “I heard your last campaign was successful,” he said and the two men struck up a conversation.

  Noelle had to admit that Sir Gavin was comely, but his appearance wasn’t everything. He had dark brown hair and warm brown eyes, and she wanted desperately not to like something about him. He might be a kind and gentle man, but he was not the man of her choosing. There was no feeling there. It was like meeting her brothers.

  Suddenly, Noelle stiffened.

  She felt him long before he spoke.

  “Sir Nicholas,” Guinevere said, looking past Noelle. “We have missed your presence in Camelot.”

  “As I have missed being here, my queen.” His deep, rumbling voice sent chills down Noelle’s spine. It was a commanding voice ... one that soldiers used to make their men snap to attention. “What is this good news I hear, Sir Gavin?”

  “I plan to be married,” Sir Gavin said with a smile. “Milady, our most fierce knight, Sir Nicholas the Dragon. He is well named, for he breathes fire upon his opponents.”

  Slowly, Noelle turned around, avoiding Nicholas’s eyes as she focused on his massive chest.

  Would he embarrass her?

  She waited for him to say something. Anything.

  Everyone was waiting.

  He said nothing.

  Finally, she had to look up at him. The memory of the burning kiss came flooding back. She would never forget a single detail of his face and that kiss. The silence lingered between them. She must say something. “Milord, it is nice to make your acquaintance.”

  Nicholas couldn’t believe his eyes. He experienced a gamut of perplexing emotions. When he’d first glimpsed the beautiful woman across the hall, he’d assumed his eyes had deceived him. But standing before him, with hair that looked like polished gold and wearing a gown of the finest green velvet, was the woman of the lake. The one he’d thought was a peasant. What gave her away were her emerald eyes. The same ones that had spit fire at him. Oh, but how he’d love to taste that fire.

  Sir Nicholas tilted his head to the side. “Have we met before, milady?”

  Her brow rose a fraction, and then he saw a determination settle upon her face she wouldn’t allow him to embarrass her, no matter what he did. It was almost as if she were daring him. He smiled. So she had fight in her—he liked that.

  She stiffened, momentarily abashed. “Not unless you have been a guest at Cranborne Castle, sir.”

  “Ah, Cranborne. I have traveled near there just recently, but, alas, I have never been a guest.”

  Tristan cleared his throat. “The next time you travel across our land, please come and visit with us, milord. I have heard many good things about your daring deeds.”

  Gavin laughed. “Wat
ch that you don’t give Nicholas a bigger head than he already has.”

  Nicholas cut his gaze to Gavin. “Congratulations on your marriage,” he said, then added before Gavin could answer, “Have you known your lady long?”

  “We have just met for the first time,” Gavin told him.

  So the lady hadn’t known Gavin when she’d kissed him, Nicholas thought. She’d been as free as he was ... not that it mattered. That was in the past.

  “Do you not greet your king?” King Arthur said, speaking for the first time.

  Nicholas straightened immediately. However, Noelle noticed he neither blushed nor looked contrite for slighting the king. “Sire, I must confess that the lady’s beauty made me forget my manners.” Nicholas made a sweeping bow. “I have completed your mission and tamed the heathens as you requested.”

  “So I have heard.” Arthur smiled. “I believe you and I have another matter to discuss, if everyone will excuse us.” He motioned for Nicholas to follow him.

  “Let’s begin to take our places at the table,” Guinevere said. “I’m sure you both would like to become better acquainted,” she told Gavin and Noelle.

  Noelle nodded. She let Sir Gavin take her elbow and guide her to the middle of the long, oak table where they took their seats. He sat on her left. Isabelle was across the table. A large man sat on one side of Isabelle, and Sir Lancelot was on the other side, so Noelle knew that her friend was very well entertained. Isabelle had finally gotten her wish—to meet the man of her dreams.

  The chair to Noelle’s right was still vacant, but she had no opportunity to ponder who would sit there because Sir Gavin began talking to her.

  He was pleasant enough, Noelle thought, but she felt nothing. She tried to carry on a conversation with Sir Gavin, but her gaze kept wandering to the king and Nicholas, who were still talking, their heads bent. She wondered what kind of man Nicholas really was.

  When Arthur had Sir Nicholas off to the side, he said, “I believe you and I had a small wager.”

  Nicholas gave a slight smile. “Aye, sire. And I will be collecting my horses within the week.”