Bastien greeted his father and the knights from Landuc, recognizing several soldiers from his family’s castle in the Forest of Brocéliande. “Welcome to Beaufort. King Guillemin will greatly appreciate the extra defense of the castle for the Yuletide Joust.”
“Several of my knights will be also participating in the opening events, hoping to earn a lady’s favor.” Esclados grinned at two of his knights atop their mounts. “Arnoulf and Didier—recently knighted atle Château de Landuc—are anxious to display their impressive chivalrous skills.” Chuckling as he dismounted his own stallion, the Red Knight clasped Bastien’s shoulders affectionately. “Congratulations on your title of nobility, son. Your mother and I received your message several days ago. We’re both extremely proud and delighted that now, asle Marquis de Cornouaille,you’re eligible to compete in the Yuletide Joust,” Esclados boomed exuberantly, wrapping a chiseled arm around Bastien’s neck in a congratulatory paternal embrace.
“Goddess willing, I’ll win Gabrielle’s hand. Nothing would give me greater joy.” Bastien returned his father’s expansive grin, then pivoted to welcome the two eager-faced young boys—atop their palfreys—whose eyes widened in wonder as they took in the bustling activity of ongoing joust preparations across the castle grounds. “It’s good to see you both again, Quentin and Gaston. We’ll certainly need your help caring for all the horses.”
Esclados stroked the muzzle of the older boy’s black Friesian. “Quentin is an exceptionally good stable hand. I’m grooming him to become Master of Horse at Landuc once he becomes a knight. Just as you did here atle Château de Beaufort, Bastien.” His dark eyes alit with holiday joy, Esclados glanced at Gaston, then met Bastien’s gaze, the two men smiling at the shared knowledge of Lancelot’s intended Yuletide gift. Like Bastien and Quentin, young Gaston was also destined to become a groom, squire, and eventual knight. Under the peerless tutelage of his legendary hero, the greatLancelot du Lac,who would make Gaston’s dreams come true when he appointed the boy as his personal squireto begin training in King Arthur’s glorious castle of Camelot.
Bastien grinned at his father with jubilant holiday anticipation, imagining seven-year-old Gaston’s unbridled joy as his greatest Yuletide wish came true. With a hearty chuckle. Bastien said cheerfully, “Boys, I’d like you to meet Maxence, my personal squire—and most trusted groom.”
Upon this introduction, a tall, strapping youth of sixteen with sandy, shoulder-length hair, twinkling eyes, enormous shoulders, and a quiet, gentle disposition ducked his bristled chin with a wide smile. “Pleased to meet you, Quentin and Gaston. You can call me Max.”
Clearly awestruck to meet the much older, most impressive squire, the two boys, still astride their mounts, eagerly shook hands with a grinning Max, who had walked over to greet them.
The still-smiling Max mounted his own horse, prepared to follow hismaître, Sir Bastien de Landuc.
With effortless grace, Bastien hoisted himself into the saddle and announced to the group, “This way. I’ll show you where we’ll be staying.” He escorted his father, the knights from Landuc, Max, the two boys, and the mounted grooms—leading the additionaldestriers—across the castle courtyard to the designated area where they would all be sheltered in tents for the duration of the joust.
They passed brightly color banners fluttering in the crisp December breeze as castle workers assembled pavilions along one side of the castle grounds for noble guests, opposite the lists where the tournament would take place. On the other side of the field, tents were being erected to shelter the competitors, their squires, grooms, and horses.
Carpenters were constructing theberfroisgrandstand where visiting royalty and the highest-ranking nobles would receive preferential seating. And, closest to the castle itself was the magnificent, opulent wedding pavilion, being decorated with boughs of holly embellished with bright red berries and evergreen garlands interwoven with fragrant white hellebore blossoms.
Bastien’s heart lurched at the sight of the white silk gazebo where he hoped to wed the woman he loved in six short days.
His flame-haired, fire-hearted Valkyrie.
The beautiful Gabrielle, his Viking Princess of Finistère.
He cast aside his pleasant, amorous reverie when they arrived at their destination. “This is where we’ll be staying, along with the rest of the competitors.” Bastien indicated a row of approximately a hundred tents, arranged into smaller, circular clusters. “Each competitor is assigned a group of tents for his grooms, squire, and horses. This area is ours.” He dismounted, and the rest of the riders followed his example.
Castle cooks and servants were preparing food nearby over open fires in eating areas designated for the competitors, squires, and grooms to share meals. The tantalizing aroma of roasted meats and sizzling sausages wafted in the salty ocean breeze.
Noting the boys’ hungry expressions as they ogled the appetizing food, Bastien said reassuringly, “You’ll be able to get something to eat in just a few minutes, after we get settled in.”
To Quentin and Gaston, he explained as he gestured to the area delineated for the competition, “The opening day ceremony,les commençailles,will take place here on thefourteenth. Some of the younger knights and squires will compete in three rounds of events—the lance, the sword, and the dagger. There’ll be two intermissions, with theatrical performances, acrobats, and musicians. Those pavilions are designated for the entertainers,” he informed them, indicating an array of vividly colored silk tents.
Pointing to the grandstand being built for preferred seating of the most prestigious nobles, Bastien announced, “That’s where King Guillemin and Princess Gabrielle will watch the Yuletide Joust, along with my mother Laudine, Lancelot’s mother—the Lady Viviane—and Gaston’s mother, the Lady Ghislaine.” He grinned at the beaming face of the young boy who was obviously proud that his belovedMamanwould be seated near the King of Finistère. Bastien added with a reverent smile, “Prince Kaherdin and Princess Gargeolaine ofle Château Rosein Armorique will be royal spectators as well.”
Bastien gestured to a long row of red silk tents assembled near the grandstand. “During the joust, food and refreshments will be sold there. Vendors are setting up displays to sell clothing, jewelry, weapons, leather goods…even horses.”
Amid the frenetic preparations for the upcoming joust, the knights from Landuc began unpacking their horses and settling into their respective tents.
Bastien told Max and the boys, “You three are sharing a tent with me. Get unpacked and settled in. Tend to the horses. And boys…” he said sternly, beckoning the trio to approach for a private message, “…no one but you will care for Drach. Understood?”
While Quentin and Gaston nodded eagerly and innocently, Max held Bastien’s solemn gaze.He understands the hidden message. Someone might try to poison my horse. A shadow sent by Ugolin le Clou.
“You have my solemn vow. One of us will always be with Drach.” Loyalty, integrity, and trust blazed in Max’s brilliant blue eyes. “I give you my word,my lord.”
While the boys scurried off with Max to tend to the horses and sample the delicious roasted meats, Esclados informed Bastien with a chuckle, “Gaspard will be escorting a trio of mothers—your own, Gaston’s mother Ghislaine, and Lancelot’s mother Viviane. He and a dozen knights from Landuc will travel by coach and arrive the day after tomorrow, on the twelfth.”
Bastien watched with amusement as Max showed Gaston and Quentin how to properly groom Drach, the spirited black stallion nickering in equine pleasure under the combined ministrations of the three boys. Responding to his father’s comment, Bastien remarked, “I’ve arranged accommodations—with adjacent rooms for the attendants—on the second floor of the castle. Guest chambers for Ghislaine and Gaspard, a lovely room for the Lady Viviane, and private quarters for you andMaman.”
“We’ll leave the rooms for the women and their servants. Gaspard and I plan to share tents with you and the boys. Lancelot and I are running the joust for King Guillemin, so it’ll be much more convenient for us to be here near the lists with you. Gaspard can keep an eye on Quentin and Gaston. And I’ll have several knights from Landuc guard our three women throughout the joust.” Esclados scanned the row of tents. “Has Ugolin le Clou arrived?”
“Not yet, but he’ll be staying over there.” Bastien indicated an arrangement of five tents where banners displaying the distinctive cog ship and ermine symbols—the coat of arms of the seaport of Nantes—flapped in the crisp saline breeze. Glancing around to be sure no one could eavesdrop, he lowered his voice and locked eyes with his father. “Gabrielle believes that the royal physician Isnard is poisoning the king. No one has seen or heard from the healer in days—it’s likely that he learned of her suspicions and disappeared before he could be apprehended.” He stared at the flags fluttering over Ugolin’s designated tents. “I think Ugolin le Clou placed him here. To slowly poison King Guillemin, forcing a hasty marriage for Gabrielle. With his father, le Marquis de Nantes, allied with the pirate Balthazar, Ugolin was confident that the implied threat of an attack would force King Guillemin to accept his request for Gabrielle’s hand.”
Bastien held his father’s shrewd gaze. “Gabrielle retained one of Isnard’s foul elixirs for Viviane, Ghilsaine, andMamanto analyze. She hopes they can identify the herbs and cleanse the king of any accumulated toxins. She also hopes that they might suggest alternative treatments for her father’s ailments. She and I are both grateful that three renowned priestesses, skilled in herbal medicine, are coming to Finistère for the Yuletide Joust. If Gabrielle’s suspicions prove true, Isnard will be charged with attempting to murder the king.” He watched the cog ship—the symbol of Nantes, crucial seaport and hub of all shipping trade at the mouth of the Loire River—float on the winter wind as if on the open ocean. A vivid reminder of why Ugolin le Clou and his father Robert Cauchon were desperate to obtain the kingdom of Finistère.
To eliminatele Traîté Maritime.
