The Black Lyon Read online

  His eyes glowed as he looked down at her, and he touched the gold lion brooches that fastened her mantle, the emerald eyes matching hers. He kissed her cheek tenderly.

  The Black Guard waited below, and they were resplendent. They stood in order, ready for the procession to the lists. Hugo Fitz Waren rode first, his mail painted green, his tabard black with the rampant black lion on a green field. The Frisian and a black mare stood ready for Ranulf and Lyonene.

  When she stood before her horse, Ranulf took something from his saddle pommel. He removed the customary gold circlet from Lyonene’s head, tossing it to a castle servant. In its place he put a coronet—gold, with emeralds and black pearls. “A countess cannot appear as an ordinary lady,” he said, smiling at her.

  She pulled a green ribbon from her hair and tied it to his upper arm, the silk showing well against the gleaming silver.

  He lifted her onto the horse, and she adjusted her leg to fit the sidesaddle. Her hair spread about her, grazing the horse’s rump behind her.

  They slowly made their way to take their places in the long line of people. Hugo Fitz Waren held the black and green banner of Malvoisin aloft, the snarling lion vivid against the emerald ground. His black tabard swirled against the green serge trappings that covered his horse.

  Ranulf headed the double line that followed the chief of his Black Guard. Both his tabard and Tighe’s coverings were of the darkest black. Behind him rode Corbet, with green clothing and black horse drapes. The colors alternated down the line. Lyonene was totally clad in green as was her horse, with the men that followed her also alternating in color.

  Ahead of her and behind her waved the banners of the king and his earls. There was Lord Dacre’s blue and gold unicorn, Humphrey de Bohun’s six lioncels, Robert de Vere’s three crowns, John de Montfort’s sable markings—and the three leopards of Edmund, the king’s brother. The colors and the jewels sparkled, and the horses felt the excitement and pranced, threatening to overcome their riders.

  Lyonene thought of Brent and knew he rode with his father. She wished there had been time to sew him a garment of the Malvoisin colors.

  The great oak gate to the new castle walls was lowered, and the procession began. The noise of the waiting people drowned all thought as the riders slowly made their way to the lists. For weeks the people had been arriving: freemen, serfs whose masters attended the celebrations, women whose profession was to entertain, and merchants—hundreds of merchants.

  The lists themselves stood atop a small rise, and they were alive with banners and buntings. Two sets of raised benches had been built on either side of the barrier fence, one for the nobility and canopied in a red and white striped serge, the other for the ladies of the lesser knights who entered the contests, with its roof open to the spring sky. At each end of the long, narrow field were tents. One end held the tents of the challengers, the other the comers. Lyonene could see the pennant of the Black Lion among the challengers’ tents.

  Behind the wooden seats and the tents were the small tents and wagons of the merchants, the guild pennants easily discernible. Among the cheering crowd were many men with flat boxes strapped to them that held food, drink, cloth, saints’ relics, medicines guaranteed to cure all and ornaments from the world over.

  The fences threatened to break with the teeming masses that strained against them to see the richly clad men and women. As Hugo Fitz Waren entered the gate, his horse stepping onto the soft, sand-covered field, a cry went up for the Black Lion. Lyonene was especially pleased and smiled at the people, but a quick glance at Ranulf showed he did not acknowledge the cheer. In truth, he was more than a little formidable in his black attire, his back straight as a steel rod.

  The next group waited as the Earl of Malvoisin rode with his wife and his men around the edges of the jousting field. It seemed to Lyonene that the people cheered louder for them, but of course, she chided herself, that was her vain pride telling her so.

  They left the far gate and entered the tent grounds at the far end. This area too was enclosed, reserved for the use of the king’s chosen men only.

  There were three tents sporting the Malvoisin colors, two for his men and one for Ranulf. It was the largest tent that the Earl and Countess of Malvoisin now entered.

  Lyonene could not help the memories of her dance that filled her at the sight of the cream silk walls. Ranulf stopped his undressing to stare at her. Then a slow smile curved his lips. He began humming a tune from that night.

  Lyonene laughed. “I think you have forgiven me for hiding away and coming to Wales.”

  “I have said I would forgive you aught.”

  She did not like his smugness. “I should test that.”

  “Do not dare,” he growled and then saw she teased.

  Brent burst into the tent. “I come, my lord, to help you dress. Is it proper that a lady be present in a knight’s tent?”

  Lyonene narrowed her eyes at Brent’s back.

  “It is an honor, Brent,” Ranulf said to the boy. “No knight may go into battle, even mock battle, without his lady’s favor. Now, come and help me prepare for the wrestling. You may help apply the oil over my body.”

  Lyonene muttered something about pages having most delightful duties and turned away when Ranulf stared at her. She called out when she heard Berengaria’s voice, and her friend entered.

  “I have ever wanted to see this tent.” She fingered the silk of the walls. “Lord Ranulf, I think you take the wrestling this day.”

  “Aye. I have had Edward make eight gold cups, each set with emeralds for the prizes.”

  Berengaria raised her eyebrows to Lyonene, who smiled in answer.

  “My lord, is it an honor for two ladies to be present?” Brent’s voice was exasperated.

  Berengaria laughed. “He is a de Lacy, ever impatient and rude. You have taken on a monster, Lyonene. Come and let us find a seat and watch your husband’s triumph.

  “You may sit with my wife in the section for Malvoisin. I do not think you will find it difficult to see from there.”

  The two women left the tent. “How do we women bear such arrogance?” They looked at each other and laughed.

  Ranulf had been correct; green and black ropes sectioned off a good piece of the tiered benches. There was room for about a dozen people. Lyonene and Berengaria took their places on the front row. There would be a while before the wrestling began, so they purchased flawns, a kind of cheesecake, from a shouting merchant.

  The trumpets sounded and split the air; the people hushed in anticipation. The men began to come from both ends of the lists, dressed only in small white loincloths. Lord Dacre with his five men caused no little commotion—his body a light gold color, his chest lightly covered in fair hair.

  When Ranulf entered the field, followed by his seven dark men, Lyonene gripped Berengaria’s arm.

  Berengaria exclaimed, “I can see why you love the man—he is magnificent!”

  Lyonene smiled proudly.

  Favors from the women in the stands rained upon the field—flowers, ribbons, sleeves. Around her, Lyonene heard shouts of the names of the men of the Black Guard, especially those of Corbet and Maularde. Corbet acknowledged all shouts with thrown kisses and tossed all favors to a waiting servant. Maularde took only one ribbon tossed to him and smiled to someone behind Lyonene. She turned to see a young girl dimpling prettily at the guardsman’s attentions.

  Ranulf nodded to her, and she saw that her green ribbon was tied about his upper arm.

  “Travers would never allow such men near me. It would not be easy to choose one of them.”

  “But my Ranulf is by far the best, do you not agree?”

  “It is said that love is blind, but it is not so in your case.”

  Dacre did not wrestle against Ranulf as the Black Lion had hoped, for he had wished to best his friend, but the two earls and their men challenged all comers. First the men of the guard fought the comers. If any bested the king’s men, he went on to fight R