Free Queen Of Knights by David Wind Page A

she had Roweena slide i t over her head.  The jeweled handle of the dagger fell in the exact center between her breasts, and Gwendo l yn knew it was perfect .
    “I think it is time I made my appearance,” Gwendolyn whispered, speaking to herse l f as much as to Roweena.
    Gwendolyn had already spent too much time preparing, and was, because of it, negligent in her duties.  Tomorrow was the tournament, and tonight the center courtyard would hold t he feast .
    She had spent the entire afternoon involved in preparations for the feast, and instructing the servants on how to set up the courtyard for their guests .
    Kildrake Castle was filled with guests .  Since the moment the king’ s messengers had gone out to report of his decree to Guildswood, all the neighboring nobility had come to witness the fight between Morgan and Miles, and partake in the presence of the king.  Tonight’s feas t would be a long one, and one that Gwendolyn knew would draw deeply on her reserves of composure.
    Gwendolyn thought again of the Druid priestess, and her words in the cave .  She turned from Roweena and closed her eyes .  She p i ctured the silver sword in her hand, and the peaceful, pure white light that had been cast by it, and opened her mind to it .  Warmth flowed through her, and the tension that held her prisoner began to drain.  Slowly, she opened her eyes and turned back to her servant only to dis c over Roweena staring wide - eyed at her.
    “What’s wrong?” she asked.
    “Did you see it?” Roweena whispered, genuflecting quickly.
    “See what?” Gwendolyn asked.
    “The light .  You were surrounded by a light, my lady . ” “A trick of the tapers,” Gwendolyn said quickly, regretting the impulse which had made her call those strange powers when another person was present.  She promised she would not do it again.  “I saw nothing,” she added.  But she knew Roweena had seen it, she could still feel the warmth of the light, and the peacefulness flowing through her veins .
    “Come, it is time.” Striding purposefully toward the door, she prepared herself to face the long night ahead.

Chapter Four
     
    MILES stood in the center of his chamber; the tapers lighting the room aided him in the inspection of the equipment his squires had prepared for tomorrow’s match .  His hauberk had been cleaned and glowed darkly.  His helmet shone, and its nasal bar looked like an inverted cross.
    On the floor next to the maille were his cuisses, the leather-padded leggings that protected his thighs .  The heavy gamboise undergarments would add even more width to him, and the gambeson that would be between the maille and his surcoat had been freshly aired.
    Because it was a tournament and not a fight to the death, Miles decided to not wear several of the heavier pieces that would slow him down.  Blunted swords and flat - tipped lances were dangerous but rarely fatal, and in a joust such as this, no thought was given to killing or maiming, just winning.
    Miles waved away greaves, hournskull, and breastplate, but nodded to the rerebraces that would protect the outer part of his upper arm.
    “We think it best you wear the greaves and breastplate .
    We’ve been talking to some of the other squires,” ventured Arthur.
    Miles looked at the twins and nodded his head.  He regarded them with love and caring, and knew they felt the same toward him.  When they ventured an opinion, Miles had found it best to listen .  “Go ahead,” he ordered .
    “It is said that Sir Morgan gives no quarter, even in tourney .  He likes to beat his opponents badly , not merely win , ” whispered Arthur.
    “He goes for the legs also,” added James.
    “Very well,” Miles said .  “Set up full armor then, but not the hournskull.  I want my face free . ”
    “Yes sir,” the twins replied in unison, their blue eyes brightening and blonde heads bobbing with his words.
    Miles was filled with a restless energy and decided to take a walk.  He