Page 38 of King’s Knight

Silks and velvet gowns and tunics in bright sapphire, ruby, emerald and yellow were all around her. On the dais, she glimpsed the king in his bejeweled scarlet tunic laughing as he ate with his brother, Robert, and the one called Ranulf. On either side of them sat Earl Hugh and Alex’s parents. At the tables, the barons, earls and their ladies adorned in fine raiment and many jewels ate with relish. She was glad for the gown Lady Serena had given her. At least she was dressed like a lady.

The smells of herbs and spices made her mouth water and she speared a slice of venison from the trencher she shared with Alex. “Do you think we dine on my deer?” she asked him before taking a bite.

“The other hunters took deer also, but ’tis likely one of these is your kill.” He bit into a piece of the succulent meat, wiping the juices from his chin with his napkin. “Very good it is, too. I like the wine sauce with cinnamon.”

Reaching for her goblet, she sipped her wine and let her gaze wander about the hall, coming to rest on an unusual group. “Alex, who are those three sitting at the other table on the end closest to the dais?”

He let out an exasperated sigh. “I suppose I can no longer delay telling you. Those are the king’s courtiers, Gervais, Jocelin and Piers. Guy calls them ‘the three graces’.”

“The ones in the Roman stories who served Venus?”

“Aye, tis a jest.”

“But are they women or men?” Merewyn could not honestly decide. They had the shoulders of young men, but their hair was longer than even the king and his young knights. Their cheeks were rouged and they appeared to be gowned like women.

“Men, the king’s own. Were you close enough, you could smell their perfume. ’Tis a heady scent.”

“The king is a… a sodomite?” she whispered, disbelieving.

“Aye. ’Tis why he has not wed and will never sire a child. By the treaty he signed with his brother, Robert is now his heir.”

“I begin to see. ’Twas why you did not want the king to see me dressed as a page.” Garbed as an archer with her womanly features, the king could well have thought her one of his courtiers as Alex called them. Her estimation of Alex rose with the realization he had been looking out for her welfare. “You were protecting me.”

“I was and I still am.”

The intensity of his gaze made her lower her eyes. “I am grateful.”

When she raised her eyes it was to watch the king’s courtiers. Their feminine appearance, their laughter and their extravagant gestures were more like women than men. Even their earrings spoke of a woman’s attire, not a man’s. “Why would the king want a man pretending to be a woman when he could have any woman he wants?”

Alex leaned in and lowered his voice. “I cannot say for certain, but young squires are, for the most part, sequestered at a time when their bodies are changing from that of boys to men. When the urge strikes, some find their pleasure in each other. A few of those never grow out of the practice.”

“And you?” She could not imagine Alex doing such a thing.

He laughed. “Never think it. I would steal over the wall to a neighboring village, my companions clambering after me. ’Twas worth whatever wrath we incurred from the knights.”

At her frown, he took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “You need not worry, Merewyn. Those days are behind me. And were we not in a crowded hall, I would be only too glad to show you why.”

Heat suffused her cheeks remembering the afternoon he had wandered into her bedchamber. Did he mean because he could have any woman he wanted he did not have to seek them out or did he mean he wanted only her? Would that it was possible for them to be together, but dwelling on the foolish thought would only bring her sadness.

When the meal was finished, the tables were moved to the walls and the large hall cleared for dancing. A group of minstrels, garbed in bright colors of blue, green and crimson, entered the large chamber and took their place on one side, readying their instruments. Soon they filled the hall with lively music from their lyre, lute, pipes and tabor.

Alex belted on his sword and took her hand, sweeping her into a group of dancers. As before, they danced well together. She was so happy to be with him she paid little attention to the man whose dark countenance stared at her across the circle of dancers. But she had not forgotten the brief introduction to the man named Ranulf.

When the dance ended, Ranulf took his partner’s hand and crossed the wooden floor to stand before them.

“Merewyn,” he said, bowing. “You might recall we met at the beginning of the evening.”

Merewyn nodded. “Of course.” She glanced at Alex, who was scowling beneath his black brows.

Ranulf turned to the woman at his side. “Lady Adèle, allow me to present Sir Alexander of Talisand and his father’s ward, Merewyn.”

Alex bowed over the young woman’s hand. “My lady.”

Merewyn offered Lady Adèle a smile. “I am honored to meet you, my lady.”

The woman gave her a dismissive nod, quickly returning her attention to Alex.

Ranulf continued, “Lady Adèle is the daughter of the comte de Vermandois. She has come to London with her father at the invitation of the king.”