graciemobile

Elise opened the door to her father’s library and looked about the room. She was startled to see her father and Paul standing by the window at the far corner of the room. She blushed at her intrusion and was about to turn and leave when her father beckoned her to stay.

“Elise my dear, why don’t we go for a walk in the garden? I was discussing some business matters with Sir Paul, but I am finished now.” He said with a twinkle in his eye.

Elise smiled brightly and took her father’s arm to go out. As they were about to leave there came a knock at the door and Duke Harold opened it, revealing the Count of Comingbridge.

His arm was still in a sling, but his figure was as straight and noble as ever. His eyes softened at the sight of Elise, and he seemed about to speak. But Sir Paul stepped up and interrupted him.

“Ah, Sir Count, very good to see you in nearly full health. I am sure that you must have much to speak of with Duke Harold. Elise, suppose we go see if all of King Frederick’s men are being taken care of properly.”

She nodded dumbly and followed him out the door, leaving an open mouthed Darren of Comingbridge with her father, who was more than a little amused. He quickly straightened his face however, and said graciously,

“Good Darren, do come and sit by the fire. We have much to talk over.”

Paul and Elise made their way through the vast chambers of the castle on their way to the courtyard where the men were being quartered. Elise looked sideways at Paul.

He walked with something of a limp, due to the wound that Prince Nettle had given him, but his face was as calm and composed as ever. He looked at her and smiled.

“What are you so intent about Elise?” She blushed and looked ahead while replying.

“Oh, things are just complicated. But at least they are not as messy as they were before. Both of my oppressors are gone, my father and lands are safe, and you were not terribly harmed in your fight with Nettle. Now all that is left is the rebuilding of Baton. And many hands make light work.”

“I do not believe that is all that is left Elise. But we shall see.” Paul said no more as they turned into the courtyard.

Later on that day Elise was walking with her cousin Prince Giam in the garden when they turned a corner and found her father sitting alone on a bench. He looked up and patted the seat next to him. Giam bowed to the two of them, and then went on his way with a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

Duke Harold sighed and put his arm around Elise. She snuggled into his embrace and they sat there without speaking for some time. Finally, he spoke in his deep, rich voice.

“Oh Elise. Little did I know as I held you as a babe that you would be the cause of so much trouble,” he smiled mischievously, “if only I had had some forewarning I might have been able to lock you up in a tower until it was safe. But, since that is not the case, it is now time to talk of your future.”

Elise looked full into his face with bright, eager eyes. He gazed back and looked into hers searchingly.

“Your mother looked exactly like that when she was excited. I remember on our wedding day when we had said our vows, right before we touched our lips together, she looked at me with that same expression. It was a union that was not always easy, but happy, full of love, and produced beautiful things. Such as you. Elise, you are more precious to me than anything else in this world, and the man whom you wed must be worthy of taking care of my treasure.” She hugged him, and then asked,

“Have you found such a man Father?”

“I have my darling Elise. The worthiest man in the entire land, the only one with whom I will trust my treasure. Yes Elise, Sir Paul has asked for your hand in marriage, and with your consent, I have have given it to him. Do you find this quite suitable?”

Her eyes filled with tears, and her face bloomed forth like a fresh June rose.

“Yes sir, this suits me beyond words.”

“Well then tell the happy bridegroom the answer to his face.”  The bushes rustled and from them stepped Sir Paul, a devilish grin on his face. Duke Harold laughed at Elise’s face, but quickly composed himself when she pinched his arm. Paul stepped forward and took her hand.

“Well Elise, have you consented to becoming my wife?”

“I have sir, on one condition only.” Paul looked with puzzled eyes at Duke Harold, who shrugged in innocence.

“Only on the condition that you do not mind have a daughter very soon, one named Genevieve.”

Paul’s face broke into a smile, and in the same jesting tone he replied,

“Why Princess Elise, I was just going to suggest that very idea myself.”

Three weeks later a great procession could be seen making its way towards the province of Jugo in the land of Hobblestone. At its head was a bright group of nobles.

King Frederick and his wife, Queen Annika, Prince Giam and the Lady Lysbeth, the Count of Comingbridge and the Princess Lianna, Duke Harold and Princess Desria, and last but not least Sir Paul and Princess Elise.

For in those last three weeks many things had happened. Baton had been repaired and strengthened until it was more formidable than ever before. The Count of Comingbridge had been graciously refused by Princess Elise, but was soon made very happy again by King Frederick.

This kindly man recognized Darren’s good qualities and character, and therefore introduced his beautiful daughter, Princess Lianna. Their friendship was started well and within several days the proper arrangements had been made, and a double wedding was decided upon.

Prince Giam had some ideas of his own however, and after a private conversation with both his father and another, he and the sweet Lady Lysbeth made it a triple wedding.

The glittering parade wound its way to the top of a familiar hill. Here it paused, and all eyes looked down upon the small Jugoian village that Elise and Paul had saved from the raiders.

But how different it looked now! The burnt rubble had been cleared away, all of the cottages had been scrubbed clean, and the entire village was decked in wreaths of wild flowers. For Sir Paul and Elise had decided that this where they would be married, and these goodhearted villagers would share their joy.

Elise now spurred on her horse ahead of the train, and rode swiftly into the village. Sweeping off her horse she ran forward to embrace the cook. For yes, this faithful and loving lady had also been invited to share their triumph. The cook looked into her beaming face,

“Ah, me dearie, you’s just th’ prettiest thing. Ya remind me o’ my own girl, long since married.”

“Thank you dear lady, you have been a true friend and help to me. So much so that Paul and I have decided that you shall come live with us.” The cook’s eyes lighted up in joy.

“Ah dearie, you don’t know just how happy you ‘ave just made me.” Elise could hold in her eagerness no longer.

“Where is Genevieve?”

“Inside on the bed sweet, and th’ prettiest little thing you ‘ave ever seen.”

Elise dashed into the cottage and caught up the baby in her arms. Genevieve cooed with happiness, and her tiny fingers tightly grabbed onto a lock of Elise’s hair.

“Mmm, oh Genevieve.” Elise buried her face in the soft little head and kissed her again and again. Hearing Genevieve give another little gurgle of joy, Elise turned to see Paul in the doorway with Duke Harold.

He stepped forward instantly and took the baby in his own arms. She cooed and gurgled again, thrilled to be with the two people that she loved the most. Duke Harold stood at the door, thinking what a pretty picture they made. Elise then gently took the baby from Paul’s arms, and walked over to her father.

“Now Father, meet your new granddaughter. And don’t keep her forever.”

Duke Harold had a very difficult time with that command as soon as he had taken the little bundle of sweetness for himself. And never was a happier or prouder grandfather seen.

The next morning, just after sunrise, Elise stepped up to take her father’s arm. She was dressed in a flowing white gown, embroidered all over with gold flowers, and about her throat was her mother’s necklace.

Behind her Princess Lianna and Lady Lysbeth were also standing at their fathers’ side preparing to walk down the village street.

A soft, lively melody started and the three happy brides walked gracefully down the village lane. At the end of it beneath a bower stood three men, tall and proud, awaiting their lovely brides.

Paul and Elise’s vows came last, as they had desired. This time a priest had been procured without difficulty, and he now smiled at them as he joined their hands.

Their vows said, their kisses given, Paul and Elise stood together holding Genevieve in front of all of the cheering villagers. Soon they said farewell to their friends and family, and then climbed up into a carriage that was to take them on their honeymoon.

“Do you promise to come back and help me rule Baton?” Asked Duke Harold solemnly.

“We do sir, but maybe not as soon as you would like. But one day, in the future, you may see Paul and I come riding through town, and then we will stay.”

His eyes twinkled.

“And just where are you going that is so pleasurable you cannot leave?” Paul spoke up.

“To freedom and quiet Sir Father, in a place of our own.” Then cracking the reins, he started off.

A few days later, Elise and Paul were situated in their honeymoon cottage. A hut on the mountainside with a pen full of sheep and a stable of oxen was their dream, and they were content. Elise ran about the place doing her chores in a peasant’s gown. Paul plowed earth with a team of oxen, and both were happy and full.

And Genevieve grew bright and strong in that healthy mountain air, and when the family moved back to Baton to help the good Duke Harold rule, she became known as, “The Mountain Princess”. And Paul and Elise lived for many long years, having ten children, and teaching all to love the Lord.

Such were the results of the evil schemes laid, by the Cunning Count.

 

 

The wind whistled past Paul and Elise as they galloped out into the free countryside, heedless of the shouts behind them. Elise felt like shouting for joy and proclaiming aloud that she was free! Paul felt hardly any less happy, but his attention was on directing the horse into the forest on the side of the road. Turning slightly in the saddle so that Elise could hear him he said,

“If we go through the forest for a time we are likely to hit upon a stream, we can ride through that for a while and shake off our pursuers.” Elise nodded and they went on.

As Paul had said, there was a forest stream just a little ways into the wood. Turning into this they rode for up to an hour through the clear, gurgling water. When they had gone far enough to satisfy Paul he rode up onto a bank and dismounted, helping Elise down so that she might stretch her legs.

The horse thirstily drank up the cool, clear water. Carrying one person at the speed and time that he had been doing would have been quite enough for an ordinary horse, but double burden? He was a fine horse indeed! Paul patted his neck and rubbed on his sore muscles,

“He is a good horse. Much better than that one that the Prince was so high about, I do wonder if he would have gone through with the giving of the prize or not?”

“I neither care, nor wish to ask him.” Elise responded. Paul turned and looked at her in some surprise, for she had spoken sharply and there was an odd look upon her face.

“What is the matter Elise?” He asked.

“All this time I have merely been thinking about how to get free of the Count and the Prince. Not once have I thought of the plight my poor father and people must be in. Why if the Prince’s plans were as carefully laid as he claims they were, Baton has been under a terrible siege for over a week! And though I doubt not that my father was not caught totally unprepared, Baton cannot hold out forever. Paul, how are we to help them?” Paul thought it over for a time.

“We will ride directly to Goodenburg, and tell the king your uncle of the danger that Baton is in. He will ride instantly that he hears word to aid his brother.”

Elise brightened, for she too knew her uncle and loved him well.

“Yes, perhaps the dreadful news has already reached them. I hope that they arrive soon!”

“As do I dear, but for now my responsibility is to get you to safety, then to go to the aid of Baton.”

“We will see about that. Oh, I wish I could feel my father’s arms around me now.”

“I know that you must miss him very much.” Paul said this with a slightly pained expression on his face.

Elise looked at him, then a thought came to her.

“Paul, what happened to your father?” She asked softly.

His handsome face furrowed in pain, and he turned to rub the horse down for a moment before replying. Then he turned back and looked Elise in the face, his hands on her shoulders.

“My father was a blacksmith, a hard worker, and a kind man. He and my mother had seven strong, healthy children. I was their youngest. One summer morning, when I was only eight years old, a band of raiders suddenly came upon our village and began to kill and plunder. My father and four brothers were killed instantly. My two sisters and I fled to the forest and hid among the ferns. We waited until dark, and then crept back to our cottage. Nothing was left except for burnt rubble.”

Elise’s eyes filled with tears as she listened to the tragic story of the man she loved. Now she understood why he put himself at such risk to save the Jugoian village from the raiders. She looked up at him again and asked in a trembling voice,

“What happened to your mother?” His strong shoulders sagged slightly.

“I don’t know. We couldn’t find her body in the rubble. After a few days a band of knights from Baton came riding through. Your father was among them, a new Duke and father. He swept off of his horse and looked around at the destruction and misery. Then he came and spoke kindly to me and my sisters. After hearing our story, he had us mount up behind three of his men at arms, and took us back to Baton with him. There he found employment for my sisters with your mother, and he appointed me as a page. I have since moved up, and then because of bravery, I was knighted five years ago, and have been his faithful servant since.”

Elise’s heart went out to him. She knew some suffering, for she had lost her mother at the age of fifteen. But she had been able to say goodbye, to have closure. She hadn’t known what it was like to have your life violently ripped apart and your loved ones torn from you. And then, not to know whether your mother was dead or alive? She felt sick at the thought.

“I am so sorry Paul, I never was told how you came to be in our service. I only remember you being often at my father’s side, or sometimes taking me out into the village to see the busy streets. It must hurt deeply not to know.”

He nodded, but then smiled.

“Yes. It does hurt. But God has given me the grace to get through it. And He gave me mercy by sending your good father along when I needed one the most. The Duke has almost been a father to me, and if it weren’t for him, I might have turned bad as many other boys who lose their fathers do. As for my sisters, they are happily married now, and I am an uncle several times over. You must visit them with me sometime, the children are delightful, one of the infants is much like Genevieve.”

“I would love to meet them Paul. And I am glad to know your story now, it makes me appreciate more who you are.”

He smiled down at her again, and then led her over to the horse where they remounted, and set off through the woods in the direction of Goodenburg.

In Baton things were not going well. The siege machines had been battering the walls ceaselessly, and already great breaches were being made. The people fought valiantly against great odds, but they were starting to weaken. Unfortunately sickness had broken out among the defenders, and many were to weak to help. No fresh food could be taken into the city, for the Prince’s net was tightly drawn.

Duke Harold was going from one breach to the next, cheering on his men and making adjustments to help in the defense. But things were looking dim. The Count of Comingbridge was wounded, having been hit in the shoulder with an arrow.

Harold stopped to help at one of the breaches where a sudden attack had been made. Drawing his sword he put himself at the front and shouted his war cry, “Justice and St. Matthew!” and came roaring down upon his enemies. They recoiled at such a terrible attack, but quickly rallied again and strove to break past him. He cut down three in seconds, wounded a fourth, and knocked the fifth into the moat. His men had come up behind him now and together they made a sizable dent in offensive army.

The attackers were therefore glad when their commanding officer called them to retreat and they fled back to the safety of their lines.

The officer rode up to the commanding knight whom Nettle had left in charge during his absence, Sir Walsh. Sir Walsh had been watching the battle at the breach, and was furious that so few men could keep many more at bay. The officer saluted, but was met with the angry rejoinder,

“How dare you sir! Come up and salute me as an honest man, when that breach is still unconquered? Indeed, I have half a mind to order you whipped for your failure.”

“But Sir, Duke Harold fights like an immortal man. He came upon us like a wind from a hurricane, and nigh half of us were killed.”

“Then, we must kill Duke Harold.” Responded Sir Walsh calmly.

“You are welcome to try my lord, but every single one of his people would willingly die for him. From the smallest babe to the oldest man. It is like trying to strike the moon from the heavens.”

“Nevertheless my man, it must be done. What cannot be done during open fighting, might be done by stealth. We will hire an assassin.”

Meanwhile a battering ram had been brought from the countryside, and the gates were being hounded without pause. Baton had only hours left to survive.

King Frederick and Prince Giam were riding hard with their men. Visions of terrible things were passing through the minds of both men. They only hoped to reach Baton in time. But they had still another day and a half’s worth of riding. Coming upon a river, they were dismayed to find that it had overflowed its banks and was swollen nigh twice its size from recent rains.

King Frederick looked doubtfully at the rickety bridge that was barely holding on.

“As soon as this business is gotten over the first thing that I will do is to issue a decree that all large rivers have proper and safe bridges installed.” He thought to himself. Aloud he called out to his men,

“Search for a fordable place where we can cross men, every moment is vital to the safety of Baton.”

Prince Giam looked about in despair,

“I doubt if we can find one Father, I have never seen a river so swollen over, and it would be deadly to force our men through that current, they would be swept away in no time.”

“Not so sire!” Called a voice above the roar of the water. Turning in the saddle Frederick and Giam saw a horse and two riders standing on the opposite bank. They could tell that one was a man and the other a woman, but could not recognize them.

“How shall we cross over then?” Giam called back. The man on the other side cupped his hands to his mouth and replied,

“Don’t send the men over single file, but have two lines of men tie their horses together and place them in the center. Have the men walk on either side of the horses, holding onto their saddles for support. This way you can send large numbers of men across at one time.”

King Frederick and Giam looked at each other in amazement.

“My son, it is become obvious to me that we should plan these kinds of matters out ahead of time so that we shall always be ready. I think my wits have been somewhat dulled by the long peace that we have been living in. However, this has taught us a lesson. And now let us do what that wise man says.” So saying King Frederick formed his men up in the necessary order and they began to cross.

Paul and Elise, for they were the two figures on the opposite shore, stood a little way off to allow the men to have room to come out onto the bank.

King Frederick and Prince Giam crossed over with the last troop of men. When they had reached the shore they turned their horses over to where the two were standing. Giam gave a joyful cry of recognition at the sight of Elise and leaped off his horse to embrace her. She heartily returned it, for the two loved each other as brother and sister rather than cousins. King Frederick dismounted a bit more slowly, but his embrace was every bit as fond.

“My darling girl! Whatever brings you out on this road so far from home?” Asked her uncle.

“The tale is a long one uncle, and I fear I have not the time to give it, for Baton is under terrible siege right now.”

“Yes, we know Elise. I was on my way to visit you when I found your heart necklace snagged on a bush near Gervais. Realizing that you would not lose the necklace on purpose, and that you had no reason to be in that area, I rode back to Goodenburg gave the alarm. Our spies found out that Baton was being besieged, and we have been riding hard since.”

“Now for you Sir Paul.” Said King Frederick, turning to him.

“You have my deepest thanks for taking such loving care of my beloved niece, who was undoubtedly in terrible danger. And once we have set the kingdom to rights you can be assured that I will thoroughly reward you as you deserve.”

Sir Paul flushed, and bowed deeply.

“I thank you sire. But to be honest, I was only doing my duty to my Duke, and my heart.”

King Frederick looked slightly surprised, and turned to Elise for conformation. She smiled and bowed her head slightly, then took Paul’s hand. The king smiled.

“Ah, I see how things are. Well, you have my blessing, but the ultimate one comes from Harold, Elise’s father. And speaking of him we must ride at once, for we have no time to spare. I will send a strong escort of men to accompany you back to Goodenburg Elise, for you must be taken to safety.”

“No uncle! I will not go to Goodenburg, but will continue on with you to Baton. Those in danger are my father, my people, and my land. And it is partially my responsibility to see after their welfare. What kind of a ruler would I be if I ran to safety instead of braving it out with them? And I am partly the reason that Baton is in danger now, for if the Prince had not been so mad for me he might not have attempted it at all. No uncle, I will continue on with you.” And before her uncle could say another word she leaped back into the saddle of a spare horse that had been brought up for her, then addressed his men.

“Men! I thank you for coming to the rescue of my beloved province and father. Leaving your wives and little ones to defend a place that does not concern you deeply takes integrity and courage. Now let us be on the march so that we might reach Baton in time.” As the men cheered and began forming up, Prince Giam whispered to his father with a twinkle in his eye,

“Perhaps we now know where Desria got it from.” His father only smiled.

Miles away a furious Prince Nettle with two bandaged arms was swiftly sailing back up the coast, back to Baton. He paced the decks liked a caged tiger and ground his teeth.

“If I cannot have Elise I will at least have Baton, and take my revenge out upon her father!” The captain timidly approached.

“Sire, we are nearing sight of land. And it seems from the din that a fierce battle is going on.” The Prince smiled.

“Ah, Sir Walsh is doing his job properly then. Hurry captain, I must be on land within an hour.”

Elise, King Frederick, Prince Giam, and Sir Paul were riding hard and fast with all of their men towards Baton. But Elise was despairing that they would not arrive in time. Mile upon mile they thundered on, over hills and through forests. It was now growing dark, and the horses were tired. After a little while, Frederick held up his hand for a halt.

“We will make camp here, and rest for seven hours. Three hours before dawn we will rise, and then hopefully arrive at Baton near noonday.”

Elise dismounted with tears in her eyes as she began to unsaddle and rub down her horse. Feeling a gentle pair of hands placed on her shoulders she paused her quick and jerky actions and stood still for a moment.

“Elise, I know that you are upset about your father. Believe me, you are not the only one. Your uncle is closely attached to his brother, and Giam loves him much as well. And as for me, well, he has been a father to me in the place of the one I have lost. We all are deeply involved in the outcome of this fight. But riding ourselves ragged and wearing down men and horses will not help Baton in the least. You can do nothing more, but pray. Trust in the Lord Elise, pray to Him to keep your father safe until help arrives.”

Elise started sobbing quietly, and Paul took her in his arms and held her close for a time. When she had quieted some, she took his hand, and closed her eyes and prayed,

“Dear Heavenly Father, I pray that you would fight the battle for my father. Keep him safe from all dangers, and sustain him until we can get there. Please forgive me for not trusting in You, You are sovereign, and Your will be done. Amen.”

Prince Nettle sent a messenger on ahead to tell Sir Walsh to hold all fighting until he arrived to take command. But something was wrong, a deep fog was rolling in. The captain was worried about running aground, for he, had never seen such a thick fog before.

“How long will it take to clear up Captain?” Asked the Prince impatiently. The Captain looked doubtfully at the sky.

“Sire, never in my life have I seen such a fog. And never have I been so surprised, for these weather conditions don’t breed fog, it is like and unnatural fog. The soonest I can promise you sire is possibly noon tomorrow.”

“Noon tomorrow. By that time who knows what could happen.” Thought the Prince.

Three hours before dawn Elise was awakened by her Cousin Giam. She opened her eyes and looked into his eager face.

“Elise, guess what! A dense fog rolled in during the night, so dense that it is possible that the Prince was detained and could not attack your father.” Elise smiled.

Duke Harold awoke in the morning, breathing a prayer of thanks that the fog of the evening that had enabled his tired men to rest.

“They will need all of their strength, for the toughest fighting is yet to come.”

He never said a truer word. Down by the coast the Prince had finally convinced the Captain to send him ashore in the ship’s boat, risking the rough ground and rocks. Once ashore he mounted on a speedy horse, and was soon in the camp of his army.

“How goes the siege Sir Walsh?” He asked of that nobleman, who was somewhat nervous about the report he had to make to the Prince.

“Uh, well your Highness, things are going to our advantage in the city. I believe that some sort of sickness has broken out, and so many of the defenders are weakened. However, we can make no headway on the breaches, whenever we attack Duke Harold is right there to lead his men.”

“Why have you not tried attacking several breaches at once?” Asked Prince Nettle.

“I have tried sire, but apparently they have made preparations for such things, and whenever we do, the toughest archers are right there to oppose us. We have therefore contented ourselves with battering the gates, which methinks cannot hold out much longer.”

“Well done Sir Walsh, I hereby raise you to the rank Baron of Vickilborn, which is a fine estate with several large mansions.” Sir Walsh smiled with pleasure.

“Order the men to form up, and the rams men to hurry up with that gate, I must be established in the castle of Baton by sunset!”

Duke Harold barely had a moment to eat a bite when he was summoned to the walls by one of the sentries.

“My lord Duke, they are doubling the attack on the gates, I think that it might give way soon, we must prepare my lord.”

“You archers, position yourselves directly above the gate so that you can protect it from invaders. Sentry, collect all the men that you can spare and send them to me. We must make a shield barrier.”

The sentry saluted and ran off to do the Duke’s bidding. Duke Harold quickly checked his armor, and then made his way down to the gate. There he met his men and formed them up, shoulder to shoulder, shield to shield, with their spears pointing out at regular intervals, they made a solid steel wall.

The archers formed themselves up on top of the wall, and behind the shield men. All were prepared to stand their ground and die if need be.

They thought it almost certain that they would die right there in a moment, for with a great crash the gates of the city came crumbling in, followed by a rush of the Prince’s soldiers! The archers quickly let loose their arrows, and being in front and above the men, they did considerable damage.

Yet the enemies continued to pour in, and soon the archers on top of the walls had to retreat or be cut down. The men at the shield barrier however held their ground, working as one man with one goal, to keep the soldiers out.

Duke Harold stood at the front of his men holding the greatest shield of all. Shouting above the roar of battle he cried,

“Help us oh Lord! For we cannot stand against this much longer. If nothing else, give us a few minutes of relief or victory!”

His prayer was answered, for at that moment someone from a house nearby threw a pile of dirty rags out into the middle of the besieging soldiers and shouted,

“The smallpox is in the rags!” The soldiers understandably panicked, and fled as fast as their feet would carry them back outside of the walls, despite the protestation of their officers.

“Come back you cowards! It is only a lie that the rags are diseased!” Screamed the angry Prince, but as no one would come back, he was forced to retreat to the safety of his army.

Duke Harold smiled in relief for a moment, then shouting to his men he said,

“Now men, follow up your advantage, all keep together behind me, and we will fight our way through the ranks, and attempt to destroy as many of these enemies as possible.”

Cheering, all of the defenders ran out through the gates, and into the midst of the opposing army. Like a steel triangle with Duke Harold at the point the Baton soldiers cut their way through the masses of the Prince’s army. But the numbers soon began to overwhelm them again, and a few entrances were made into the triangle where men had been shot down by arrows. Things were again beginning to look bad, and Duke Harold cried out once more, in a now desperate tone of voice,

“Heavenly Father, deliver us!”

Nettle heard his words, and in a vicious and mocking tone of voice he replied,

“Call out all you want Duke Harold, for there is no one to deliver you now. Not the weather, nor your brother, nor even God Himself.”

“Not so sire!” Called a voice from the slope above.

Turning in the saddle, the Prince was dumbfounded to see thousands of royal troops come pouring down upon the ranks of his army. And riding at the head was a small party of nobles, the King, Prince Giam, Elise, and Sir Paul. The very same Sir Paul who had sent warning of his coming, the same Sir Paul who had frustrated his attempts to marry Elise, the same Sir Paul who had wounded and humiliated him on the tournament field in front of all of his nobles. And the same Sir Paul who now called out and defied him.

The Prince ground his teeth until one broke, then in madness and rage and called,

“Meet me now Sir Paul, in the field of honest battle. And I will finally crush you, you who have opposed me so long!” Paul needed no second offer, but spurring on his horse, charged down to meet the Prince.

Giam and the King went charging into the ranks of the Prince’s nobles, dealing death wherever their swords struck. Many of the nobles turned their horses and fled towards the sea, hoping to escape on some of the Prince’s ships. But these were swiftly overtaken and cut down or surrendered.

Elise was shooting right and left with a smaller bow that had been cut down by one of the archers while they were on the march. She had been practicing at archery since she could walk, and was as deadly a shot as any other Baton archer.

Duke Harold looked up with joy and surprise as he saw the thousands of allies that had come to his rescue. He now felt a new strength, and with a mighty roar came rushing down and into the thick of the battle. He killed two nobles and three archers before he came to a man, and stopped, surprised and confused. It was Count Augusto, late captive to the Prince. The Prince had bargained with him that if he could kill Duke Harold, then he would be freed and given a chunk of Baton besides his own lands.

Harold would have put down his sword and spoken with him, as he thought him to be an honest countryman, but Elise caught sight of what was about to happen, and of the Count’s hand reaching slyly down for his dagger, so she cried out,

“No Father! This Count is a traitor, beware before you are killed!” Her father instantly put his sword up again, and before Augusto could make a move, he was stretched out on the ground, dead.

Elise, giving a sigh of relief, turned her horse again and saw Sir Paul and the Prince. They were in the midst of a fierce combat. First Sir Paul made a lunge at the Prince, Nettle ducked and endeavored to plunge his sword into Paul’s stomach which was unguarded. With a twist of his sword Paul quickly glanced the opposite blade off and used his advantage to prick at the seam of Nettle’s armor. It worked and Nettle was thrown back into his saddle for a moment, but drawing himself up again, he made a pass underneath Sir Paul’s guard and managed to wound him in the leg.

Elise held her breath as Paul pulled his horse back in pain, but gritting his teeth he did a special move that only he and Duke Harold knew of. He twisted and threw his sword with a jerk. It went flying under the Prince’s guard, and plunged into his heart. The Prince fell like a rock out of the saddle and lay flat on the ground, dead.

Elise rode quietly over to where Paul stood over the dead Prince. Dismounting, she walked over to Paul, and stood looking down at her late oppressor’s body.

“He is gone. He is finally gone.” She said, almost unable to believe it. Paul put his arm around her and replied softly,

“Yes Elise, he is dead. Though it was not just I who killed him, but it was the judgement of the Lord that was given through the triumph of a righteous sword.”

The History of Tournaments

Tournaments in the old days were what a football game or race are to us today. They were places where men could show their skills, impress beautiful ladies, boost the morale of a people, and give the winners a taste of victory!

There were many contests involved in tournaments. Usually these ceremonies would last for several days, with the smaller contests in the beginning, and they would end with the greatest contest of all.

It usually began with the common people showing their skills in things like quarter staff fights(the most common everyday weapon of England) pulling heavy loads, and wrestling.

Then it would go up to archery(also a common sport in England. It was mandatory for all boys to learn the use of a bow, this law gave them the deadliest archers in all of Europe. Which in turn won many of their wars. I have tried to copy the archers of Baton after these English bowmen.) After the greatest archer was rewarded, the more knightly contests would begin.

The field for the tournament was several acres long and wide, with great stands on either of the sides. The higher places were for the lords and ladies, a special place being reserved for the prince or king watching the event. The lower seats were for smaller aristocrats, merchants, small landowners etc. And then there were large green areas set aside for the yeomanry, the farmers and craftsmen.

On one side of the field knights and barons would set up small tents with their standard outside. This is where they waited and prepared for battle. If a knight wanted to challenge another he would throw his mail glove down in front of the other knight’s standard. Pages and orderlies spent the time sending messages, polishing their lord’s armor, and preparing his horse.

When all of the contestants were signed up, the reigning champion would pick a Queen of the tournament. He would pick the fairest face in all of the crowd. I believe it is more than likely that a lover knight got to show his affection in this way sometimes. Many of the knights wore tokens, or gages, as they were called, given to them by the queens of their hearts. Sigh!

When the lady had been picked, she was given a fine seat beside the king and queen, in order to judge the tournament from a better view.

Then the jousting, sword fighting, and battles would begin! Heralds would blow their trumpets, and the knights would charge!

Jousting was a knightly skill that took a great amount of strength and horsemanship. Two knights would face each other at the opposite ends of the arena, holding their reins in one hand, and holding their lance in the other. The trumpet would blow, and they would charge furiously down upon each other! The goal was to unhorse your opponent. Sometimes the lances would meet, and crack each other, sometimes it would hit the knight in the face and unhorse him.

Other knightly contest were sword fighting. Sometimes in the saddle, sometimes on the ground. I believe that fighting in the saddle was more popular. And then they fought with battle axes, or maces. Huge axes that you could sweep around and crack your opponents skull.

Did the contestants ever get hurt? Yes. Sometimes men were damaged for life or killed! But in those days, honor and glory were more important than death.

Sometimes in contest two champions were chosen to lead opposite armies. They would set their standard up, and then other men and less important knights could choose either side to join. Then they would fight, using battle tactics and maneuvers to win the battle.

At one tournament in history, hosted by King Edward III of England, he had a wooden castle constructed and put up overnight. Then he had the champion of the day before choose whether he would attack or defend it. Then the opposing champion took the other side. It was a marvelous show to watch! For it had never been done before in the history of tournaments.

I have only written knightly contests. For you must remember that Prince Nettle is an invader in the land, and must keep his whereabouts a secret to King Frederick. So he can only match his own followers against each other. But a real tournament would have been much larger.

And now let the tale begin!

The royal castle of Goodenburg; the capital of Hobblestone, was as picturesque as a castle could be.

It stood on a rising hill with strong, but beautiful stone walls surrounding the gardens that grew on the hillside. A clear river ran through and around the castle garden, not only making the spot more beautiful, but also creating a natural moat that was always full.

The castle itself was large and airy for a castle in those days. Only the windows on the first floor were loopholed, those on the remaining floors opened out onto a veranda that ran along the entire length of the wall.

This castle itself, which the good King Frederick and his beautiful Queen Annika called “Wilmnsburough” was obviously not the principal defending castle of Goodenburg. In case of an attack the king would remove his family to another fortress that was built above Wimnsburough by a secret passage dug beneath the earth.

This castle was called “Rockton” and much more formidable than Wimnsburough.

It was a lovely, quiet afternoon. The sunshine was the type that makes you feel peaceful and sleepy. The inhabitants of Goodenburg were going about their usual buisness in an orderly way.

But the quiet was broken however when the sound of pounding hooves upon the principal highway, and those nearby hurriedly moved out of the path of the horse and rider.

The rider was a tall and splendid young man with a wavy head of blonde hair. He was dressed in royal blue and gold, and his magnificent stallion was dusky gray.

He sped on past the startled merchants and straight on to the castle. When he had gone there were murmurs and people began to speak in groups.

“Ah, Prince Giam is back early from Baton. It would seem that he has not been there at all, for usually when he goes to visit his Uncle Harold and beautiful cousin Elise he stays for over a fortnight! I wonder what his buisness may be. I hope not for you my dear, that he has found some hidden beauty in Baton and is riding hither to tell his father of it.”

The gentlemen was speaking to the daughter of a silk merchant, Lady Lysbeth, a sweet, pretty little girl who had caught the Prince’s eye at several of the balls that had been given at the castle.

She blushed prettily, and responded with eagerness,

“I have no claim upon the Prince’s affections Master Holmbrook, if he wishes to love another lady, let him do so and I will wish him well. However, I do know the Prince well enough from the brief conversations that we have had that he would not react that way if he were not disturbed. Prince Giam, though gallant and spirited, is prudent, and will one day make a wise ruler for us all. I do hope all is well in Baton.”

Meanwhile the palace servants had seen the Prince’s hasty entrance to the town and a groom was already standing to take his horse the minute he arrived. Prince Giam galloped up to the gate, leaped off of his horse while tossing the reins to the groom, and continued on inside.

He hurried on until he reached the private royal parlor. He entered and made a hasty bow to his mother and sisters.

The apartment was bright and cheerful, with some light colored rugs to soften the walls, and a few comfortable couches to recline on.

Queen Annika arose on his entrance. She was a tall and stately woman, with her blonde hair wound and coiled into a beautiful crown atop her head. She to was dressed in blue. The princesses were both younger than the prince, the elder, Princess Lianna looked like the king, dark hair and bright brown eyes. The youngest princess, Princess Desria looked like no one but herself, with shocking red hair and dancing china blue eyes; eyes which had woven their way into all of the hearts of the merry young men of the land.

“What is this my son! Can something be the matter?” Asked his mother, rising up in alarm. He opened his mouth to reply, but then the king walked in and he paused to bow in greeting.

“What! Back so early son? Did the beautiful province of Baton cease to give off charm?” He asked in his deep voice while he gave him a hearty embrace.

“No indeed sir, for I have not been to Baton. My tale is simply this, Silvester’s horse threw a shoe and we were forced to stop at an inn in Gervais  to have it mended. But the horse was lame in the morning so I decided that I would journey on alone and he would join me again when his horse was better. I had only gone mayhap half a mile when something glittering and red caught my eye. Dismounting I reached under a bush and found this trinket snagged on a thorn.” Saying this, he drew out Elise’s prized necklace into view.

Queen Annika recognized it soonest, and gasped as if in pain.

“Oh! That was Joan’s necklace, the one Harold presented to her on her wedding day. I remember it well for your father and I were united on that same day. But after her death, it was given to Elise. And you found this on the side of the road my son?”

“Yes mother. It was simply hanging on a bush.”

His father stood and paced the room. Then he turned to his wife and said,

“Elise would not loose a precious heirloom like that at her own will, and what would it be doing fully twenty miles from Baton! This means evil Annika, I hope that my poor brother is not troubled or harried. We must send spies at once to Baton, this very moment, in order to ascertain what the trouble is.”

Then he and the Queen hurried from the room. Princess Lianna now rose and gave her brother an affectionate kiss.

“I must say, this may be selfish of me, but I am half glad that you had reason to start back so soon. I hate to share you with anyone but ourselves, and the castle is dull without you.”

Princess Desria now spoke up in her merry way,

“Aye sister! If but Elise would visit us more here, then Giam wouldn’t have to be tramping about the country to visit his pretty cousin. But, perhaps if we were to invite Lady Lysbeth up more often we would not be saying farewell half so much.” She added coyly.

He smiled with good nature, the mischievously,

“Ah, and perhaps my young sister Desria wouldn’t be so sharp with her tongue were she to marry to one who could hold her, maybe to a Sir Victor?” Sir Victor was a haughty young knight that was, as he put it, “madly in love with her”. And he was one that Desria detested with every bone in her body.

She colored, and raised her hand to slap him, but he dashed out the door with her following. Lianna, looked about to see that no one was watching, then picked up her skirts and ran after them.

Miles away, another princess stood looking out of her window. She had changed out of her peasant costume, and was now wearing a lavender silk dress with yellow silk edging and inserts. Her hair was loosely braided back, and new emerald necklace sparkled in the rising light on her neck.

It was Elise, staring out of her eastern window in her room the morning following the capture. In truth it was Count Augusto’s old room, but Prince Nettle had added some softer hangings on the walls, and fitted it out to be a proper ladies room.

Genevieve was not there, for on arriving at the castle, Elise asked permission to give her to the charge of the cook, thinking that she would be safer there than with herself. The Prince agreed and Genevieve had been turned over to her capable and sympathetic hands.

But now she had no distraction, and her thoughts were wholly on her predicament. Paul was in the dungeon, and she was little better than a prisoner herself, for the doors to her suite were locked from the outside.

“If only there were another way, the window maybe?” But her thoughts were interrupted by the opening of the door and the entrance of the Prince.

“Ah, good morning darling. Dear me! That necklace does look lovely on your neck. It was the best I could find in Forton, one of Hotten’s principal harbor towns. I had intended it to be a wedding gift, but we will just call it an engagement present.” He had walked over to her and was looking at her turned away face. She moved over to the other side of the room listlessly.

“It is a fine gift Prince. Might I have a walk in the garden? The morning looks fresh, and I am accustomed to walks as a part of my routine.”

“Yes my dear, I shall accompany you.” Opening the door he called for a maid and asked the lady’s cloak be brought. Spreading it over her he took her arm and they walked down the path out to the garden. They walked in silence for a moment, Elise wishing that she could dart away all the time, but sensibly stayed put. Then the Prince broke the silence.

“I have decided that we shall be married at the end of the week. I shall procure a priest to marry us from one of the nearby villages. As for your attire, there is no need, as I have already picked one out for you.”

“Ah, and I am sure, most sure that your taste exactly suits mine your highness.”

“Most assuredly Elise, I had it fitted up before my journey, on a maid that is about your size and height. It looked pretty as a picture on her, but pale in comparison as it will look on you.” Elise said nothing.

They walked on again for a time then a servant approached and asked their highnesses what their pleasure for the dinner would be? Elise had a sudden thought. Turning to the Prince, she said with her most charming smile,

“Would you mind my lord, if I were to accompany the servant to see the cook? I have a particular desire for one of my favorite dishes this afternoon, but it is delicate to make.”

“You may, but I will escort you there. You seem willing enough now, but for all I know my pretty clever bird might find an exit to fly from if I am not around.” Said the Prince smiling. Elise resisted the desire to strike him in the nose and merely nodded.

They walked on down through the servant’s quarters through the many bowing people. None had been harmed in the conquest of the castle, to them, it mattered little who their master was. If this man was to be better than their natural master, who was the object of cruelty, then they would be happy indeed.

On entering they found the head cook and her maids waiting to curtsy. As the Count had done, Nettle saw nothing amiss in the order of everything and was pleased. Elise of course noticed a large flour pile beneath the counter, and a bowl of vegetable peelings pushed to the back of the counter, but she said nothing.

The cook smiled and asked respectfully,

“Is thar anythin’ I can get for th’ lord and lady?” Elise looked her meaningfully in the eye.

“Ah cook! Well, I would enjoy a nice rabbit stew for dinner today, it is one of my favorite dishes. And perhaps you had better have something a bit more extravagant the supper, as the priest may, or may not be dining with us.”

The cook nodded simply, but Elise could detect the understanding gleam in her eye.

“And when my lady, should I begin preparations for th’ weddin’ supper?” Again Elise looked her in the eye.

“If all goes as planned, the ceremony will take place on the upcoming Saturday. Good day to you cook!” So saying she turned around with the Prince and walked out to the path again.

The cook curtsied as they left, and as soon as the door was shut she had a whispered conference with one of her maids. The girl nodded and walked out to speak to one of the stable boys.

Later that afternoon Elise was seated in the principal hall of the castle. The Prince was not with her, but Berbon and a dozen men stood a respectful distance away, to keep guard over her. She was playing with Genevieve, who had been brought to her for the afternoon while the cook was busy.

The door opened and the Prince strode angrily in. Elise looked up innocently and asked what was troubling him. He walked up to the couch that she was seated upon and turned to look at her.

“Twenty priest in the province and not one available before a fortnight! I have sent round to all the larger villages that are prosperous enough to have churches, and everywhere was met with trouble. For it seems all of their priest have journeyed up to some remote cabin on the western border in order to do some kind of penance ritual, and won’t be available for another half a month! If I had not been with you all morning I would assuredly thought that you had done something to prevent the ceremony.” He looked at her piercingly.

She returned the gaze calmly, then said,

“I give you my word of honor Prince, that I have not told anyone directly to send the priests away. As you yourself said I have been in your company for the whole of the morning.”

He looked pleased, then stood up again, and walked about. An idea struck him, and a he walked over a moment to speak to one of the guards. Elise leaned down and whispered smilingly to Genevieve,

“But I won’t promise that I haven’t indirectly told someone to send the priests away. God bless the cook! For she has done a good service again.”

The Prince returned to her side again, and said almost in a mocking tone,

“I have just sent for Sir Paul, perhaps we may find something interesting to amuse us with him added to our discussion.”

Elise colored and felt exceedingly angry. This man was a vicious villain indeed! She would have dreaded to be hated by him.

She stood up hastily, put Genevieve on her shoulder, and walked over to the window. The Prince looked up at her,

“Indeed! I had thought you to be rather in love with that low knight. And yet you act disturbed by him, is this perhaps a good sign for me?”

She turned on him like a snake ready to strike, and almost spat out the words,

“It is not by his noble presence that I am disturbed, it is the fact that we must be degraded by having your vile person here to make insults against all things good and pure!” The Prince looked angry for a moment, then his smile returned and he said,

“Ah, I have picked well. A little spirited beauty like you is exactly what I need to keep life interesting.” Elise turned red in exasperation, but was kept from responding by the entrance of Sir Paul.

She turned away to the window to hide her tears in Genevieve’s soft little head, and Paul simply stood in the doorway taking in the scene before him.

The Prince looked up triumphantly at Paul and said in a supposedly courteous tone,

“Ah, the great Sir Paul! It is quite a pleasure to have the said champion of Hobblestone among us.” Elise turned again, so overcome with emotion that if she had had wings I believe she may have flown to the moon.

Paul saw her expression, but wisely didn’t say anything. He did however return the Prince’s mocking gaze with one of cool courage.

The Prince saw the expression, and for once in his life he felt intimidated. Many times he had run against antagonists who had been formidable men, but he had always been able to conquer them. But now he felt that this young man in front of him to be superior, and the feeling frightened him.

He quickly pushed the feeling aside however, and stood up to walk over to the window where Elise stood. Looking at Elise he said,

“I have been thinking dear, that maybe since we cannot procure a priest as soon as we had hoped, perhaps we should find some other form of amusement. A tournament say, at the end of this week. I have many knights who are skilled in their arms. And archers that are well worth seeing. We could perhaps reward the best archer with a new bow, and the most skilled knight with a kiss from the fairest lady in the land.” Elise turned to him and said,

“Ah, which I suppose would be you? Well sir! As we are not yet married and you may not be the most skilled knight I strongly urge that you find a different prize or you will find me quite unavailable at the tournament!”

Paul now spoke up eagerly in order to relieve the pressure now put on Elise ,

“Perhaps Prince, a strong stallion or new suite of armor would become the prize better!”

The Prince looked furiously at him, then strode across the room so that he might look Paul full in the face.

“I do not need your impute you scoundrel! I am quite capable of arranging matters myself. And you shall pay for your insolence, for I now challenge you to a jousting and sword duel this upcoming Saturday!”

He half expected Paul to refuse him, for he was an accomplished swordsman. But Paul didn’t flinch, he looked the Prince square in the eye and replied,

“I accept your challenge and will look forward eagerly to try your metal.” This was said calmly, as if he was mentioning the time of day.

Elise meanwhile, was inwardly thrilled! She had seen both men at different tournaments, one when the Prince had been vying for her hand before, and the other at a tournament her father had given in honor of her birthday. Though she knew the Prince to be good, he was not superior to Paul. Paul was by far the best swordsman she had yet seen, and it was said that he was the best in Hobblestone.

Genevieve began to fuss, so Elise sent for a maid to take Genevieve to the cook. The Prince sat down again and watched the faces of his two companions.

Once Elise had relinquished Genevieve with a kiss to the maid, she walked across the room to speak to Paul. The Prince stood up to intercept her, but she got there first.

“Well now Sir Paul, you shall have to represent Baton as best you can. For in order to do justice, I must say that the Prince is an acclaimed swordsman. I have seen him at the tournament my father gave some eighteen months ago when he was our guest.” The Prince looked well pleased.

Paul smiled coolly, and replied,

“So I have heard. And I believe it will be a worthwhile contest.”

The Prince now looked angry again, and ordered Berbon to take Paul back to confinement, but this time in a simple room near the bottom of the castle. As he was to meet this man in battle, he must at least be fair by giving him decent lodging.

Elise asked permission to go to her room, and was escorted there by the Prince himself, who locked the door behind her, then went to talk to his captain knight, Sir Edward.

It was three days later. A large square of ground had been leveled and fenced off. It was surrounded by bright flags of blue and green, and there was the Prince’s principal standard, a black raven with a red sword.

Posts with the different barons’ standards were spaced evenly along the side with their tents placed behind the fence. Orderlies and pages ran up and down the sidelines sending messages, polishing armor, and preparing their masters horses.

A few yards from the edge of one of the side a grandstand was set up. Two great chairs were set up upon it, then less ornate ones were set up around them.

Elise sat in one, the Prince in another beside her.

The unfortunate Count Augusto was seated below them, at the Prince’s foot level. He was dressed in rough clothes and chained to a wooden chair. His scowl finished it off into a very unpleasant picture.

Elise was dressed in a beautiful sunset peach dress with trimmings of gold. Her hair was braided with gold ribbons and white flowers. She was a fair Queen of the Tourney indeed!

She surveyed the arena and field in search of Paul. There he was! Seated quietly on a bench near one of the tents that housed the less great knights. He was wearing a simple suit of armor, with no standard except for a chain of gold with a small blue cross.

Elise’s heart swelled, for her father had given him that chain a few months hence when he had sent him on a journey north. He had kept it safe and treasured it as a gift from a man of heart, father of a lady of heart.

Tears swelled in her eyes for a moment, as feelings of forlornness began to fill her heart. She pushed them aside however, and looked at the Prince.

“I don’t remember sir if we had fixed upon a prize for the champion. Have you selected a suitable one?”

The Prince smiled at her interest, and then pointed at a large dark bay stallion being held by a groom nearby.

“That my love, is Forbear. He is the pride of my stables, for his blood can be traced nigh seven hundred years. He is fleet as the wind, and strong as an oak! He is a fair prize indeed.” Elise smiled sweetly.

“And I suppose my lord, that you would not bid such a high price were you not certain of winning the tournament yourself.”

“Indeed. For as you yourself said so graciously but a few days before this, you have seen me in battle, I am a worthy swordsman. And not one here can outmatch me.”

Elise said nothing, but thought,

“There is one who can outmatch you. And you are to meet your reward this very day.”

The Prince then raised his hand, and the heralds blew on their trumpets. The contest had begun!

First the smaller knights of his train tried their swords against each other. Sir Thunbrook le Mar, and Sir Uriah vi Omar. Sir Uriah won, striking Sir Thunbrook from his horse on the second turn with his lance. Sir Thunbrook was struck in the chest, and fell to the ground with the wind knocked out of him.

Next Sir Uriah was matched against one of the mightier knights, Sir Lionel of Viva, a knight baronet. Meaning that he was a baron and in charge of a section of land, whereas Sir Uriah simply ruled a small county.

Elise watched as he struck him to the ground, much as he had Sir Thunbrook.

And the next knight, an even better warrior, Sir Rogue of Shimton.

She felt puzzled. Something didn’t make sense, if Sir Uriah were truly the better warrior, why did he not have a greater position? She turned to the Prince and asked,

“Surely this warrior of yours, Sir Uriah, is a sharpened tool. And you say that he only rules the small county of Omar?”

The Prince smiled and said,

“Yes my dear. I had not known him to be so good. Perhaps I shall raise him to the rank of knight baronet.” And he chuckled.

Elise didn’t like something in that chuckle. So she turned her attention from the Prince to Sir Uriah.

He was now battling against one Sir Fern de Carn. He seemed to be using the same tactic that he had on the other knights. He held his lance in his hand, and rested the end in the crook of his arm. Whereas his opponents always held theirs just in their hand.

Elise was puzzled even more, the other knights had been holding it correctly, and Sir Uriah was holding it the hard way.

Then it dawned on her! The other knights were holding the lance the correct way, the way you would hold them if your lance was the correct length! Therefore, Sir Uriah was holding his in his arm because it was longer!

Having a longer lance meant that you could strike your opponent before he had a chance to strike you! Now the whole plot was laid out in front of Elise.

Prince Nettle had given Sir Uriah a longer lance so that he might defeat all of the other knights, including Sir Paul! And if he had the same results with Sir Paul as he had had with the other knights, Sir Paul would be stricken from his horse and so wounded that he would not be able to battle against the Prince. Then the Prince would battle against Sir Uriah, who would change lances so that the Prince might win.

Elise was furious, she must warn Paul! But how? For the next five knights she was racking her brain, trying to think of a way that she might warn him without letting the Prince know that she was onto his scheme.

But luckily for her, a Divine hand created a way for her to give him the message. Sir Uriah had vanquished all of the knights except for Sir Paul and the Prince. And Sir Paul was signed to go next.

But before he rode out into the arena, the Prince called him over to the bandstand. Paul rode up and looked him in the face. The Prince cleared his throat nervously,

“Sir Paul of Baton. You are the only foreign knight here, and therefore must make a good show to all of my courtiers. And since the Queen of the Tourney, Princess Elise, is your liege lady, she may say a few words to you.”

Elise brightened hopefully, then spoke slowly, choosing her words with care.

“Well Sir Paul, the only thing I can say to you is this. Show your metal and do well. You come from Baton, a worthy land, though we have shorter lands than many of our opponents lands. Stay humble when necessary, and rise when you have the chance.”

Sir Paul bowed his head in understanding, then took his lance and rode off to the middle of the arena.

Elise glanced slyly over at the Prince to see whether or not he had caught their hidden conversation. He seemed to be watching Sir Uriah eagerly, and hadn’t noticed the slightest thing. She breathed a small breath of relief, but then held it again as Paul took his place at the end opposite of Sir Uriah in the lists.

The trumpets blew, the knights charged down upon one another! Elise watched tensely as the space in between the pounding horses’s hooves narrowed. Fifty yards, the thirty, fifteen, ten…

Now she looked up with burning eyes in agony to see whether Paul had been thrown or not. The scene before her showed how clear was his head.

The instant before Sir Uriah’s lance would have struck Paul’s helmet, he ducked low and drove his lance into the exposed breastplate of his opponent. It was like hitting a brick wall.

Sir Uriah fell like a log onto the ground, his senses knocked from him. Paul rode quietly over to the side of the arena to await the next contest.

Elise felt like cheering, roaring aloud! Instead she looked coyly at the Prince. His face had turned a nasty shade of greenish white, it was clear that this particular contest had not gone as planned.

The heralds blew in honor of the victory, and then the Prince’s horse was led up to the grandstand by his head groom. He stood up shakily for a moment, then straightened his back, bowed to Elise, and mounted on his horse.

Now the heralds blew a great fanfare in honor of the Prince. Then for a moment there was complete silence as the champions sized each other up. Elise wasn’t doing anything but praying.

Then the trumpets sounded again, and the Prince and Paul charge furiously down one on the other! The entire crowd sat on the edge of their seats while the rivals charged furiously.

They had met! Their lances shivered with the shock as they clanged together. The riders continued in away from each other, then they swung back around and charged again.

Elise watched with growing excitement as they charged again, but then her heart sank. An archer nearby was stringing his crossbow and aiming it directly at Sir Paul!

Rising up she shouted out,

“Humble yourself Paul!” He heard and bent low, just in time, for an arrow went singing over where his head had previously been.

Elise turned red with anger, and shouted out with the voice of a giantess,

“Dare you try a trick like that again coward Prince and you shall regret that you were ever born!” Then she sat down with the bearing of a queen.

The Prince charge with fury down upon Sir Paul! Instead of charging back however, Paul pulled his horse back and simply waited. The Prince’s lance was aimed directly at Paul’s visor, and at the speed he was riding a blow like that could kill him!

When the Prince’s lance was barely a few feet from his face Paul ducked, driving his blunt lance beneath the Prince’s lance arm.

The Prince’s lance fell to the ground, and he bent over in the saddle, his shoulder broken.

But gnashing his teeth in dark anger, he quickly drew his sword out with his left arm and stabbed at Paul. Paul parried the blow with his lance, which he threw at the Prince.

While the Prince was ducking, Paul drew his own sword and swept at Nettle. Nettle blocked and their horses stamped round and round each other while their masters fought furiously.

But, the end of the fight was inevitable. Paul pulled his horse back to avoid one of the Prince’s sweeping blows, but then he lunged forward at an exposed area on the Prince’s left arm. The sword hit home, and the Prince fell to the ground with one broken shoulder, and one bleeding arm.

Meanwhile, Elise had risen out of her seat, and edged over to the rail of the grandstand, apparently so that she might see better. But in reality so that she might be ready. The courtiers around her were so engrossed in the fight that they did not notice.

As soon as Prince Nettle fell Paul wheeled his horse around and charged for the bandstand. Elise leaped onto the rail and then sprung onto the back of the saddle when Paul raced by!

A shout was raised, and some attempt was made to stop them. But the sight of Paul’s earnest brown eyes filled with the fire of battle, and his red sword raised high above his head, they quickly changed their minds. Paul and Elise broke through the crowd, and then galloping at breakneck speed, they charged out into the countryside!

Meanwhile King Frederick’s spies had returned, with news of an attack on Baton! There wasn’t a moment to lose! Quickly the army was called out. Officers were sent hasty messages, and the calvary horses were speedily groomed.

The King himself decided to ride at the head of the relieving army, with his son riding with the calvary. Queen Annika, and the Princess’s Lianna and Desria saw them off.

“Pray my dears, that we might not be to late to save my noble brother. Pray also that we may find Elise, who is undoubtedly away on some other adventure, for her necklace was found beyond Baton.” He kissed them, the mounted his horse and shouted out to the assembled army,

“Friends! We ride now to save Baton, one of our finest provinces, and my noble brother Harold. Stand firm and steady, though Nettle’s men are seasoned warriors, I have complete confidence in the warriors of Hobblestone!”

With a shout the army began their charge forward for the freedom of Baton!

But right now if you were to ask him even what the time was he would have growled and snapped like a wounded lion. He had been searching for hours for the flown captives, and he had already been run into a branch, thrown when a squirrel sprang out and frightened his horse, and cut his hand on a bramble. Knowing this his men were very quiet, and the usual chatter that went on among them was gone.

They were getting ready to cross another hill when Berbon held his hand up for a halt. Then pointed forward.

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Looking down with mouths open in horror Elise and Sir Paul saw that the beautiful little village was being molested by a vicious raiding party. In small huddled groups the villagers tried to defend themselves from the attacks of the raiders. Babies were crying, and several of the houses had already caught on fire. Some of the men were attempting to rush the attackers, and were fighting valiantly, but the odds were against them.

Sir Paul, skilled in war, took a moment to consider. Then swiftly he dismounted, and hurriedly tore off a long strip of clothing from his doublet. Then he found a large leafy branch that had broken off from the grove near the crest of the hill. Tying one end onto the branch he took the other and fastened it to the back of Elise’s saddle.

“Elise, I want you to ride back and forth just below the crest of this hill, to make it look as though a great party of horsemen is arriving. Don’t come down until you hear the raider’s horses galloping away. I am going to make a surprise charge.”

Then without another word Sir Paul remounted and rode off with all speed. Elise immediately began her part by riding back and forth across the dusty road, stirring up a cloud that one would think belong to a good fifty men.

Sir Paul galloped down the hill toward the raiding party, just when he got near them he pulled out his staff and began swinging it in circles around his head. With a mighty shout of Duke Harold’s war cry, “Justice and St. Matthew!” he dashed in among the startled raiders.

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