My mother wanted to kill me.

No, really. She really wanted to kill me. If you are thinking that I probably deserved it, that may be, but I was only a year old so ignorance would have been a legitimate defense for leniency in my sentence. I guess I was inadvertently hampering her active lifestyle amongst the rich and famous in Florence, Italy. I suppose, looking back on the situation, I could understand her feeling.

We were living in the 17th century when everything was Baroque, or ?decoration.? The great artists of the 15th and 16th century had already come and gone and left their masterpieces, and my mother was simply born too late to have her face immortalize in their oil. Oh, we have Caravaggio and Preti and Piertro Novelli, and the great Carlo Maratta and Andea Pozzo, but none of them were good enough for someone of my mother?s divine stature. They were too. . .how should I say it? Oh yes, Baroque.

My father is the one who saved me from a death worse than fate. Sir Archimedes da Firenze is his name. Most know him as Sir Arch Fane. You may not have heard of him, but those who engaged in the European wars in the years from 1625 to 1645 knew him very well. It was said of him that if you were alone and facing and army, and Sir Arch Fane joined your side, you?d enter the battle with confidence. Some called him the most skilled fighter of all time; some thought him to be a god, or at least immortal: I just knew him as my father and teacher.

Just before my first birthday my father rescued me by bringing me to a secluded mountainside far away from civilization, built a cabin, and there he raised me. Why so secluded? Well, partly so that my mother wouldn?t find us, but also so that no one would find him. There were many who wanted to recruit my father to lead and train their armies. There were many others who would like to kill him. So we were hidden away for nineteen years. During those nineteen years my father taught me the ways of the wild ? how to track and hunt and survive. He also taught me how to fight with everything from sword to bow. The one thing he didn?t teach me was about boys and things that a lady should know.

In his army days, when he was serving the monarchy of England, he came to know a certain landowner by the name of Lord Henry Wakefield. Arch Fane had once saved his life, and old Lord Wakefield was so indebted, that he made a promise to my father to be at his service in any time of need. My father had written to him when I was 16 years of age to ask if Lord Henry Wakefield would take me in and teach me to be a lady and in all matters of society.

Of course he agreed.

The only problem is that my father is a bit overprotective of me and kept putting off the date when I would leave our mountain cottage. It went from sixteen years of age to eighteen years. Eighteen passed and then it was nineteen. When I was twenty it became apparent that I?d have to take things into my own hands.

My name is Alat?riel da Firenze, and this is my story.

Alat?riel pushed a piece of meat around her plate with a fork. She wasn?t very hungry. She had once again brought up the subject of going to Oxburgh Hall, and once again her father refused.

?Father, I?m twenty years old! I?ve seen what goes on in town. Most girls my age are already married and have children and look at me!? She dropped her hands and pointed her fingers back at herself. ?I haven?t even dated a boy. The only time I?ve touched one was to knock him out. I can?t stay here forever! It?s not right?it?s not even natural!?

?You?ll go to Oxburgh Hall soon enough,? Archimedes replied with a raised and stern voice. ?I?ve promised you, when you?re twenty-one, then you can go.?

?Promised me?? Ali was now shouting. ?Father, you promised when I was sixteen! Then it was when I would be eighteen?then twenty! I?ll be a damn old maid skinning rabbits for a living before you permit me to leave!?

Arch slammed his fist down on the table and stood up. ?Don?t speak to me in that tone. You are still my daughter.? He turned away and walked to a window. ?I know what lies out there, and I know what happens to beautiful, young women. They fall in love with the first guy who pays them any attention, have babies, and then spend the remainder of their lives regretting the choices they?ve made. I don?t want that for you, Ali.?

?What do you want for me, father? Dancing with bears and making bird calls all my life! What?s so wrong with a girl falling in love with a man? I believe it?s been going on for quite some time now. Of course, how would I know? I?ve been stuck on this mountain for twenty years and the world could all be eunuchs for all I would know!?

The knight was turning red with anger. ?What do I want for you? You have to ask me that? I?ll tell you what I want. I want you to have a happy life, and to be able to protect yourself until you find the right gentleman for you who can provide you with the love and things that will make your life full and rewarding! That?s what I want for you!?

?Father, while I?m being secluded away up here, that man is probably finding another woman and getting married!? Ali pushed herself away from the table and walked out the door into the shadows of the night.

?Ali! Ali, come back here!? Arch shouted after her. ?You?re more stubborn than your mother!? He gave up, shook his head in frustration, and sat back down at the table.

Unless she was stalking some forest prey, Alat?riel was not a very patient young woman. Waiting around and doing nothing was not one of her strong points. That night, in the wee hours of the morning, Alat?riel da Firenze got out of bed fully dressed. She wore brown riding breeches, a white cotton shirt, and a green cloak. her riding boots that came to her knees and were lined with rabbit fur where the boot met the leg.

Alatariel stood up, retrieved her sword from the wall peg and strapped it onto her hip
Dressed in her own clothes and with her sword at her side, Alatariel was more determined than ever to head off on her own.

Twenty minutes later Alatariel was on her horse, Iron, and entering the deeply wooded area northeast of the cottage, and intent on finding her way to England, and then to Oxburgh Hall.

Voices wove in and out of her dreams. Laughter. Think she?ll even wake up? More laughter. I want her awake. I want her to feel it. Alat?riel felt a sharp pain stab to her side stunning her into wakefulness. She sat up holding her side where one of the three farm boys had kicked her. She immediately reached for her sword and found nothing where the hilt should have been. Her hand sped to her right hip for her knife, but found that missing also.

?Looking for these, missy?? said the sandy haired lad who stood at her feet, grinning a crooked-toothed smile as he pointed to her sword and long-blade knife that were laying near the road, several feet behind him. Ali took a quick look toward the weapons and then back to the boy who was standing in filthy overalls with his hands on his hips. She inwardly cursed at her own stupidity for allowing herself to sleep so deeply without being well enough hidden from a major road. She rose quickly to her feet, but before she could move a step the boy behind her had his arm around her neck while the one in front punched her hard in the stomach, knocking the air from her lungs and leaving her gasping, trying to catch her breath.

?You?re going nowhere, girl,? the boy to her right sneered as he backhanded her face and pushed her back down to the ground. Ali?s head hit the ground hard, giving her a strange sensation in her nose to mix with the blood she was already tasting. She fought to stay conscious, trying to remember the things her father taught her. Stay calm. Evaluate the situation. Three half-grown men stood around her. The one in front looked to be the oldest, about twenty-three years old. The other two looked to be in their late teens.

Alat?riel?s head swung back and forth, trying to see the two who were now on each side of her head, pressing her shoulders to the ground.

?You go first, Brent. Then it?s our turn.?

The oldest one kneeled down between her legs and leaned over her, pulling on the leather belt that secured her riding breeches. ?There be only one reason I can think of that you?d be sleepin? on our daddy?s land, an? that is that you?re jus? waiting for some country lovin?, now aren?t ya girl??

Ali could smell their breath and the stench of their clothes. ?No! I was just tired. I rode all night. Let me go, please. I?ll get off your land.? She struggled, but the weight of a boy on each shoulder held her down. Her head was thrown back when the one on top of her again backhanded her across the mouth.

?You?ll be going when an? if we tell ya, girl. We?re just gonna ?ave some fun first. An? if ya really good an? nice to us, then we jus? might let ya go.? He finished loosening her belt and pulled her breeches down over her hips, gazing lustfully upon her.

Think, Ali. Think. Words of her father?s teaching came into her head, ?An enemy who?s confident of a win is lax in their defenses. Feed their confidence until their defense is lowered.?

?Okay, okay?just don?t hurt me anymore. I?ll cooperate.?

?Good girl. Didn?t I tell ya, guys?I know a whore when I see one. I can spot ?em a mile away.? He leaned back on his knees and dropped his overalls. Ali pulled her feet in, bending her legs at her knees, pulling them closer to her chest.

?Look at ?er, Brent. She can?t wait.?

The road leading northwest was only a mile west of where she left Iron. She ran through an area forested with pine, and after climbing over a ridge, she saw the road through the opening in the trees that stood below her. Ali approached the opening carefully and looked south along the road in the direction of the mountains. She was surprised to see a wagon coming up the road, drawn by a team of two horses. ?At last, something?s going my way,? she thought. As it came closer she could see that it was a merchant wagon, carrying some goods to be traded. Two men sat at the front, and another man and a woman were in the back, sitting above their load of goods on one of the two benches that were attached to each side of the wagon.

Alat?riel limped to the edge of the road and waved them down. ?Hey, can you give a girl a lift??

The wagon pulled to a stop. ?Why sure, ma?am, we?d be happy to,? the man with the reins said. ?What are you doing out here, walking an? all by yourself, if you don?t mind me asking??

Ali stepped up on the buckboard and flipped her leg over the side with a wince at the pain. ?I don?t mind at all. I was riding north when my horse spooked and broke his leg. I had to put him down and I?ve been walking ever since. I took a little fall, so please excuse the way I look.? She sat down on the bench in the back, across from the other man and woman.

?No problem at all, ma?am. You be looking fine to me,? the other man up in front said. Ali just smiled and continued to brush off her riding cloak after tying her hair back. It felt good to just sit and relax as the wagon moved along. It couldn?t move fast enough for her. She wanted to get out of the area. ?So, where are you heading, ma?am?? the driver asked.

?Oh?I was just heading north. Heading back to my home in England. Where are you going??

?We?re heading to London, missy. We make this trip about once every six months, hauling olive oil and wine and a few other odds and ends up to the markets in London. It?s that time of year ? harvestin? time. We?ll go to the coast and take a barge over. You?re welcome to join us.?

?This must be my lucky day,? she said. ?I?m headed to the same place.? She leaned back to relax and try to enjoy the trip, but almost immediately they heard the sound of horses galloping up to the rear of the wagon. There were three armed riders, and Alat?riel could tell that they meant business. The riders surrounded the wagon and brought it to a halt.

?What?s the problem, marshal?? the man with the reins asked.

?We?re looking for a young woman,? said the man with jet-black hair, a moustache, and a scar across his cheek. Ali assumed that he must be the law in this area.

The other man in the front of the wagon laughed, ?Yeah, well aren?t we all. If you find any extras, let us know.?

None of the three riders even smiled. ?You wouldn?t want this one. She murdered one young man and seriously injured another.? Murdered? Ali just looked at the floor of the wagon. He must have died. I killed the bastard.

?You don?t say. Sounds like a wild one,? said the driver of the wagon.

?I know those boys. Fine young men,? one of the other riders said. ?She seduced the boys, leading them off the road with her body, then robbing them at knifepoint. When the boys resisted she stabbed one in the side and sliced the other?s face.?

?Whoa?she does sound like a wicked lady.?

?Yeah, well, when we find her she?ll be hanging from the gallows within an hour. That I can promise you.?

The man with the scar held up his hand, motioning the other rider to be quiet. ?Who?s that with you in the back?? he asked, pointing to Ali. She was already planning how she would leap from the wagon and head for the trees. She couldn?t let them catch her. She doubted that they?d believe her side of the story, or the fact that she was some princess.

The man with the reins turned and looked at her. ?Her? She?s just one of our hired help. Teaching her the route so that she can handle the wagon the next time.?

?How long has she been riding back there??

The man shrugged, ?Well, since this morning when we left the farm.? Ali couldn?t believe it. The driver lied for her and no one else spoke up. She looked at the man with the scar and he didn?t look like one who was easily fooled. He positioned his horse next to her and pointed to the knife on her hip.

?Let me see you knife.? It was a command that couldn?t be refused.

Ali looked down at her knife and slowly drew it from its sheath. She took the blade between her thumb and forefinger and handed it handle first to the marshal without saying a thing. He took it and brought it up to his face, looking closely at the blade, turning it from side to side. He took out a white clothe from his vest, spit on the clothe and wiped the blade. He then examined the clothe for signs of blood. Ali held her breath. She knew that it wasn?t the knife that she used on the boys, but was the blade of the long knife as clean as she hoped it was. Evidently it was. There was no sign of blood on the knife and he handed it back to her.

?Sorry for the inconvenience,? the marshal said. ?Let us know if you see a young woman walking around here. They?ll be a reward for you.?

?Oh? She wouldn?t be riding?? the driver asked.

?Not any more. Evidently her horse went lame. We found the horse and put it out of its misery. She?s in these woods somewhere. We?ll find her.? With that he motioned to his men and then they headed back in the direction they came from. Ali stared ahead, motionless. Her foolishness now cost Iron his life. If she had just not gotten so upset with her father she would be well rested, fed, safe, and Iron would be alive. She bit her lip in disgust and tried to hold back the tears that were forming in her eyes.

The next day went much the same except that Ali noticed that the two men in front were exchanging a lot of whispers and nods and were much more quiet than they have been the day before. They traveled north along rivers and past little French towns, and Ali was fully enjoying a sunny ride and a view of the world she never saw before. She tried to keep her mind off of Iron and what had happened in that farmer?s field.

As evening was beginning to settle in, they arrived at a thriving trading town that had sprung up on crossing of two major roads. The north-south road was the one they had been traveling upon all day and was leading to the sea, where they?d be crossing into England. The east-west road was a major thoroughfare between several major towns in that area of northern France. The lights of the village were a welcomed sight.

Alat?riel and her four traveling companions pulled the wagon and horse team into a stable for the night and paid for the privilege. Ali had learned that the driver?s name was Gus, and the one who sat up there with him was his brother, Healy. In the back with here were Roz and Syke, two illiterate workers who seldom spoke and were usually expressionless. Gus led the group into The Fox Den Tavern. It was noisy and filled with smoke, but the food smelled good and the chalkboard sign behind the bar indicated that there were still vacant rooms that could be rented. The five of them grabbed the last empty table and Gus signaled to the barkeep. ?Two pitchers of ale and stew all around!? he shouted over the din.

Ali sat and took in all the activity going on around her. She was not used to anything like this. Her father had allowed her inside an inn only once in her life, and that was under his watchful eye. She was taken in by all the laughter and the raucous flirting that was transpiring at almost every table. Three men were throwing knives into a corkboard in a contest for mugs of ale, and it was the poorest display of weaponry that Ali had seen in a long time. She couldn?t help but laugh out loud when one of the three missed the board entirely and put the knife into the banister that was three feet behind it.

The man was tall and heavy, with a thick red beard, and he noticed Ali?s laughter that followed his throw. He looked at her and growled, ?You?ve got a problem, girl??

Alat?riel laughed, ?The only problem I see is the way you throw a knife.?

The large man stepped over to the table and stood behind Healy, who was opposite Ali at their round table. ?Is that so? Well, little girl, I suppose you could do better??

?On my worst day,? Ali shot back.

?Care to make a wager??

Gus put up his hand to try to calm the situation, ?Now, now?it?s okay. She?s just blowing smoke at you. Go back to your game.?

Alat?riel stood and put her hands on her hips. ?I?m not blowing smoke, Gus. This guy needs to be taught how to throw a knife.? She reached into her pouch and pulled out several coins, enough to represent an average day?s wage. She slapped them on the table. ?Put down your money or admit right now that you?re no good.? Gus looked at her and man across from her and just held his breath, wondering if she was going to get them all thrown out of the inn before they?ve even eaten.

The large man huffed, then laughed. ?Easy money, men!? He took out his purse and matched the amount on the table. ?We each throw three knives. Whoever gets closest to the center wins.?

They were on the road by sunrise the following day. With everyone well-fed and rested, it was a much more pleasant ride, with conversation flowing freely throughout the morning, mostly stemming from Alat?riel?s knife throwing exhibition and Red?s reaction.

By the evening of the third day after they left the Fox Den Inn, they had come to the northern coast of France and the English Channel stood before them. It was all that separated Ali from England and Lord Wakefield?s residence. She reached into her pocket and felt the paper that she must have already read one hundred times ? the letter from Lord Henry Wakefield that described his willingness to take Alat?riel in for a year to teach her the ways of English society and to make a true lady out of her.

Ali had noticed that the mood of her traveling companions seemed to have suddenly changed, once again Gus and Healy were much more serious and speaking in whispered tones to each other. She didn?t feel comfortable about it, but she just passed it off as business matters that she no reason to be involved in. Even so, that night she slept with her long knife in her hand.

The journey across the channel was exciting for Ali, and fortunately, uneventful. She had never before seen any body of water larger than a lake, so this was a thrilling adventure for the twenty-year old mountain girl. For the first time she felt the sea breezes in the air and felt the salt spray in her face. She was beautiful and na?ve, and enjoying herself much as a young girl would have. When she fish jump out of the waves she rose up on her toes and clapped. ?Did you see that, Gus? A fish!? She bounced in a circle upon her toes and came to rest with her torso leaning over the rail to feel more of the spray and wind against her face.

By late that afternoon they sailed up ?The River Thames? and docked in London at Kings Bridge. Ali had never seen such a city and so many people going in every direction. She remained at the rail and would wave to passersby. Some would respond, most would not, but she didn?t care. She was in London and would soon be on her way to Oxburgh Hall and Lord Henry Wakefield.

The sun was just setting when the wagon and horses were unloaded. They got the wagon hitched up again and everyone took their place in the wagon of wine and olive oil. They traveled pass majestic buildings and wonderful shops as they rode down the Stronde and past Covent Garden. Ali could hardly stay in her seat as she turned this way and that to gander at all the fine shops. She could catch glimpses of tall towers and steeples in the distance. It was frightening and wonderful all at the same time.

Alat?riel leaned forward, ?Gus, please let me off at the hotel up on the right, and I?ll pay you for all your kindness,? but he ignored her and turned the wagon the other way, heading toward narrower and darker streets lined with buildings that weren?t nearly so fine looking or so well lit. She was beginning to wish that she had hopped off the wagon and paid Gus soon after entering the city, but she hadn?t wanted to appear impolite or anxious to get rid of them.

The wagon made more turns down narrower streets with prostitutes on the balconies and in the shadows of dark inn porches. At last Gus pulled the wagon to a halt in front of a poorly lit inn whose dilapidated sign read, ?Black Moss Tavern.? Ali followed Gus, Healy, Roz and Syke inside, but she didn?t like the feeling of the place. She assumed that this might be where Gus had his business transactions during the off growing season. It wouldn?t have surprised her if some other commodity was being hidden in the wagon beneath the wine and olive oil. She wanted to pay Gus and leave, but he and Healy immediately told her to stay at the bar while then talked with someone in the back room.

She didn?t like this place at all. It made her skin crawl. She noticed that the eyes of everyone in the tavern, both men and women, seemed to be on her. She took a deep breath and stood as tall as she could, catching glimpses of Gus and Healy through a doorway, speaking to a morbidly obese man in the back room. She saw the fat slob count off at least five silver coins and place them into Gus? outstretched hand. He?s getting paid well for something, she thought. She politely accepted the mug of ale that was passed to her by Syke, but there was no way she was going to put that grungy mug to her lips.

The three of them came through the doorway and approached Alatariel. ?Ali, this is Mr. Riggins, and he?s going to give you some good employment while you?re here in London. He?ll take good care of you.?

Riggins eyed Ali?s 5?10? frame up and down several times and grinned a yellow-toothed smile. ?Well, Ali, I think you?ll do just fine.? He turned to Gus, ?You?ve done good, Gus. I think Ali will fit in very well. And you?ll like the other girls here. We?re a friendly bunch.? Ali had already noticed a few of the women in the tavern with their painted up faces and revealing clothes. In the short time she was there two of the women had already led patrons up the stairs.

Ali looked from Gus to Mr. Riggins. ?I do appreciate the offer, Mr. Riggins, but I already have a hotel room in London, and tomorrow I?ll be heading to Oxburgh Hall in Swaffham.? She partially lied, but there was no way she was going to spend another minute in this place.

Riggins laugher was almost a bellow, ?Oh do you now. Ali, you just don?t look high society type to me. No, I think you?ll be very happy here. You?re going to make me a whole lot of money, and I?ll take good care of you in return.? Riggins nodded to two men at the door and they came up behind Ali. ?These men will show you your room and wait with you until Madam Maureen arrives. She?ll get you out of those old clothes and fix you up nice and pretty and fill you in on what?s expected.?

The hands that held her were strong and manacles were quickly placed around both her wrists. Alat?riel struggled but it was to no avail as a collar with an attached chain was secured around her neck. ?Let me go, you freakin? jacks!?

?Shut up, girl.? The voice commanded. ?You?ll get your time to speak.?

The men who followed Ali out of the window disappeared in the opposite direction, while Mr. Riggins came hobbling out of the entrance of The Black Moss Inn with his arms waving in anger. ?Sergeant! Thank goodness you?ve caught her! That little wench is mine and she just assaulted me and trashed my inn! I?ll take her off your hands and deal with this myself.?

?Riggins, Riggins?? the big man said. ??you don?t know anything about ?goodness? to thank. And you won?t be taking anyone anywhere.?

?But Sergeant, she just trashed my inn! She owes me!?

?Yeah, Riggins, we heard the raucous from down the street. Seems like every night you?ve got something going on here to disturb the peace of this city. You?ll get your chance to present your case, but you?ll have to do that before an officer of the court. This young lady will be spending the night in a cell.?

As Ali?s eyes adjusted to the night she could see that the man she had run into was a uniformed officer, a good half-foot taller than she was and more than twice as massive. He had three other officers with him who had put the chains on her and removed her weapons ? even finding the knife in her boot. ?He was trying to make me one of his whores,? Ali explained.

The sergeant looked down at her, ?What were you doing here in the first place, lady? Looking for a schoolteacher job? And beside, it doesn?t give you the right to cut people up and trash a business establishment.?

Alat?riel almost laughed out loud at the implication that Riggins could have a legitimate business. ?I was brought here against my will,? she started to explain.

?Oh, is that so? Who brought you here??

?It was Gus. He?s right?.? She looked around but saw no sign of Gus, Healy, Roz or Syke. In fact, even the wagon was gone. He must have left as soon as the struggle started, she thought. She looked up at the sergeant, ?He?s not here now. He left.?

?Yeah, well lady, you?ll have to tell your story to the court just like everyone else.?

A soldier drove a wagon up to Ali and two soldiers helped Ali into it. Ali glared at Mr. Riggins from her seat in the back of the wagon. ?Keep looking at me like that, fat boy, and next time we meet I?ll make sure you?ll be looking at your damn guts from a new vantage point!?

Riggins? eyes widened. ?Did you hear that, Sergeant? Did you hear how she just threatened me??

?Shut up, Riggins. If I have anymore trouble from you this week, I just might release her on you with my blessings.? The Sergeant gave Alat?riel a wink and then signaled his men to drive her away to the jail.

The Oxburgh Hall castle was situated on 1200 acres of English countryside, to the northeast of Swaffham, twenty miles from the North Sea as the crow flies. When Alat?riel and Richard Holecombe arrived, Lord Wakefield was not present. He was out riding the property, an activity that he had made a habit of doing since returning to Oxburgh Hall two weeks before.

The room Alat?riel was given in Oxburgh Hall was large and lavish. Colorful woolen carpets covered the floor, tapestries and paintings hung on the paneled walls, the furniture was ornate mahogany, and the sense of history permeated the room like the scent of attic filled with old books. The four-posted bed could have comfortably held four of her. Lace curtains covered a double set of doors that led out to a small balcony. A side parlor held the bathtub from which Alat?riel had just recently emerged, feeling and smelling every bit the princess that she pretended herself to be.

She stood before a full-length mirror, dressed in a deep blue robe and pulling a comb through her hair. Most of the bruises on her face and body were fading, but her ribs and muscles were still sore from when she was kicked in the side and from her fall off of Iron. She admired herself, ?You know, girl, being a princess isn?t the worst thing. It does have its advantages.? She smiled and mumbled, ?Sure does beat the crap out of all I?ve been through this week.?

?My lady?? Alat?riel looked up, startled. A maid was standing there, blushing and holding several garments for Ali to select from. Ali also blushed, realizing that she had better clean up her language if she was going to accept her princess role. ?I?ll just set your wardrobe for dinner here on your bed. Those garments you decide not to ware, I?ll put away later.?

Alat?riel nodded, ?Thank you, ma?am.? The maid left and Ali looked through the garments, and put aside the fancier dresses and selected something that would be more comfortable. The gown was a deep red with golden orange-yellow embroidery down the sleeves, around the collar and along the hem, in a beautiful two-inch wide pattern. She chose a matching clip for her hair. She looked in the mirror and admired how the gown accentuated the womanly curves of her trim and well-endowed twenty year-old body. She was to have dinner with Lord Wakefield, and just the thought of it put butterflies in her stomach. She wondered what he looked like, and wished that she had asked her father to describe him in more detail other than just ?Old Lord Wakefield.? She sighed, guessing that he was probably just another pompous old fart that she would have to put up with and act totally interested in so that she might ask him for a position of employment in the castle.

Satisfied that she looked as good as she was going to get this evening, and since she still had almost an hour before the dinner, she decided to take a look around. She stepped into the hallway and began her journey down one cavernous hallway after another, admiring the artwork, tapestries and armament that decorated the walls. She went past the Great Hall, surrounded by scenes of battles that took place way before her time. She saw armor that had been in use centuries before and was fascinated by ways that war had been waged. She continued through hallways that seemed endless, losing sense of even what floor level she was on or which direction she was going. All that she was sure of is that she lost track of time and that she was going to be late for dinner. ?Oh great. What an impression I?m going to make?nothing like showing up late as guest of the Lord of the Castle. I?m sure he?ll be really impressed as he sits there watching his food grow cold. ?

?Gavilean? Wakefield? Oh my goodness. Oh! Your Majesty! Your Lordship!? She felt her face flush. Her thoughts were immediately conflicted. She was terribly embarrassed over literally running right into the master of the castle, yet she was overjoyed that she didn?t have to leave this man. Suddenly she wished she wore one of the fancier dresses and spent more time with her hair.

Gavilean bowed, ?Milady.? He held out his right arm.

She had forgotten that she was a lady and should respond. She then slipped her arm through his and smiled up at him. They took a few steps and then she pulled him to a stop. ?Wait a minute! How can you be Lord Wakefield? You were friends with my father and you can?t be that old!?

Gavilean laughed. ?You have obviously expected to meet my father, Lord Henry Wakefield. He died two years ago and left the estate to me.? He looked deeply into her eyes, smiled and touched her chin with his hand. ?Alat?riel da Firenze, I?m very pleased that my father arranged to have such a beautiful woman come to Oxburgh Hall.? He paused, and then led her further down the hall.

His voice was different than any she had heard before ? strong, yet soft and with a musical tone that would have left her mesmerized if she did not fight the feeling. ?Oh. I see,? she said, although she was still quite puzzled about it. He looked to be in his mid twenties. She decided that she didn?t care how old he was ? he was magnificent and she was happy just to be next to him.

He led her to a private dining room that was lit only by candlelight. Men in uniform were standing at attention, waiting to serve the dinner. A string quartet played in a corner of the room.

For Alat?riel, it was as if she had entered a dream ? a dream that she never wanted to awaken from. Suddenly he was holding the chair for her.

?Please, have a seat. I?ll assist you.? He could tell that she had no training or experience in the social etiquette, and he found that to be quite endearing ? even refreshing. After she took her seat he went to his.