Juliandra looked ahead at the first gatehouse. A permanent wooden bridge spanned a gulch that was deep and overgrown, a trench that encircled the entire castle and was a moat in some places. Reeds and green growth sprouted out of the muck. She hoped they wouldn’t toss her into it when she told them why she had come.
Give me back my father!
“I do not know,” she said after a moment. “The truth, mayhap. Surely they would not think to punish me for seeking my father’s freedom. I have brought money for the toll, after all. I will simply ask them to release my father.”
Megsy didn’t think it was such a good idea. In fact, she looked at her mistress in horror.
“Are you mad?” she hissed. “They will likely put you in the vault beside him if you demand his release.”
“I did not say demand.”
“You must lead with the money you’ve brought and then ask politely!”
Juliandra looked at her, annoyed. “Of course I will ask politely,” she said. “You sound as if I am going to lay siege.”
The old maid eyed her. “Knowing you as I do, you very well could,” she muttered. “Will you at least be pleasant and sweet about it?”
“To the English?” Juliandra said, aghast. “I willnot. I will simply tell them why I have come and offer to pay his toll. I will not be rude, but I will not be sweet, either.”
Megsy made a face suggesting that this situation might not go very well. She had rather hoped her mistress might try to charm her father’s way to freedom because Juliandra could be very charming when she wanted to be. But she could also be bold and demanding.
She didn’t think the English would take that too well.
“Let’s get on with it, then,” she said.
They began to move.
The bridge across the rocky gulch loomed before them. At this time of day, people were mostly leaving the castle after having conducted their business, so Juliandra and Megsy were walking against the crowd. There were at least six soldiers at the gatehouse, possibly more that they couldn’t see. They could, however, see sentries on the wall, pacing the length ofit, watching both those coming and going as well as the land beyond.
English bearing a dark blue dragon on their tunics surrounded by a sea of yellow and white were unfamiliar colors at this castle, visitors who had taken up residence. Somewhere, Juliandra remembered her father speaking on the House of de Lara and how their origins went back to the conquest of England, and further back still. The dragon on their tunics spoke of the family’s position along the Welsh Marches. It was accepted that Wales was the land of dragons, and the de Laras were close to that mystical and magical land.
Hence, the sapphire dragon.
Juliandra found herself contemplating the sapphire dragon, so much so that she was startled when one of the soldiers spoke to her.
“What’s your business, lady?” he asked.
Juliandra came to an abrupt halt and Megsy plowed into the back of her. After steadying her maid, she looked to the group of soldiers. Now, all of them were looking at her curiously, if not a little lasciviously. It was the lascivious looks that began to rile her.
“I…” she stammered, took a deep breath, and started again. “I wish to see Lord de Lara. I have business with him.”
The soldier waved her off. “Lord de Lara hears supplicants on Tuesdays,” he said. “If you want to speak with the man, you’ll have to come back on Tuesday.”
Juliandra didn’t want to come back on Tuesday. She wanted to speak with him now. “But I do not wish to petition him,” she said. “I have important business with him.”
Now that the soldier knew why she had come, he was increasingly disinterested in her. “I told you that de Lara only conducts business on Tuesdays,” he said. “That is when he hears grievances or anything else requiring his attention. You Welshneeded law and order, and he has brought it. If you want to talk to him, then come back on Tuesday.”
“But…!”
He cut her off. “He’ll be fair with you, I assure you. Fairer than any Welsh lord would be.” The soldier eyed her a moment longer before turning away. “Come back Tuesday, lass.”
Juliandra didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t coming back on Tuesday, that much was certain. She was here and she wasn’t leaving until she saw Lord de Lara. Perhaps she had been too polite with them; perhaps she’d not been firm enough. As she prepared to take a harsher and more demanding stance, Megsy suddenly piped up.
“She sings, m’lords,” she said. “She’s come to see Lord de Lara about entertainment. She sings!”
As Juliandra’s eyes widened in shock, interest returned to the soldiers. They looked between the maid and Juliandra.
“Sings?” the soldier in command said. “Is that the business?”
