Page 24 of An Ill-Made Match

Eden took an instant dislike to Muriel who must be of a similar age to Gunnilde. She guessed it was her recently married status that caused her to now act so condescendingly to her childhood friend. Eden slipped her arm through Gunnilde’s in a silent show of solidarity.

Gunnilde started. “Please allow me to introduce my friend Lady Eden-“

“Yes, yes,” cut in Lady Conway rudely. “Hurry now, girl! My dear Son-in-law approaches, and you will both need to move along the bench. Muriel and her husband are sure to be the most distinguished guests here this day and deserve the best spot.”

Eden pursed her lips and looked over her shoulder to see Sir Christopher and an older man approaching. When she had turned back two bright spots of color had appeared in Gunnilde’s cheeks. “I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” she answered in a surprisingly loud voice. Before she could continue, a cry from Sir Christopher Lelland interrupted her.

“By all that’s holy! Is that you Lady Eden?” He swept a very graceful bow. “I hardly expected to see the Queen’s favorite sat among our humble company this day! What a pleasant surprise!”

A silence had fallen over the rest of the Conway party, who simply turned and stared at Eden in open-mouthed horror.

“Yes, it is,” said Eden in a composed voice, she gave a curtsey, but did not release Gunnilde’s arm. “May I introduce my friend, Gunnilde Payne to you Sir Christopher?”

“Delighted,” he said, giving Gunnilde just as reverent a bow as he had to Eden. “Have you met my wife?” He held his hand out to Muriel, rotating his fingers hurriedly. She rushed over to his side.

“Just this moment,” said Eden. She looked coldly at the scarlet-faced Muriel, before resolutely turning her back on her. “Shall we be seated, dear Gunnilde? I mean to point out anyone of interest to you.” They sat themselves back down in their original seats as the Conway party stood about in mortified confusion.

“But whatever has happened?” Eden heard Sir Christopher asking his wife in an urgent undertone, as he led her to one side. Muriel Lelland was wringing her handkerchief and remonstrating with her mother in a slightly hysterical manner. Luckily Eden could not make out the babbled words.

“I think you’ve had a lucky escape,” she murmured to Gunnilde. “Though Sir Arthur does seem to be the best of the bunch. Imagine having to contend with his mother on a daily basis.”

“I can’t believe they were so rude,” Gunnilde whispered back. “I can only apologize, I was mortified!”

“Tis not for you to apologize,” Eden told her, squeezing her arm. “Why Gunnilde, you’re trembling!”

“Tis with anger,” her friend admitted. “My stepmother was right all along. They do think themselves far superior to the likes of me. I can’t believe I was so foolish as to still…” she choked on her words.

“Do not let it spoil your enjoyment of your father’s tournament,” Eden urged her. “After all, you are a great admirer of knightly prowess, are you not?”

Gunnilde dabbed her eyes with her scarf. “Y-yes,” she gulped. “You are right. And I have so been looking forward to it.”

“Sensible girl,” said Eden approvingly. “Now, tell me, who are this party of people approaching?”

Happy to be distracted Gunnilde pointed out the guests, who were made up of various pillars of local society. These included the Abbot from nearby Tranton Abbey, a few well-heeled merchants from the nearest city of Greater Tranton, and assorted friends and neighbors.

“Your family must have lived here in Tranton Vale for a good many years I think?” Eden asked, taking care to keep the conversation flowing. That way her new friend did not have the chance to feel awkward before the festivities started.

“Oh yes,” Gunnilde told her happily. “My great-grandfather built Payne Manor.” She chattered away happily, explaining the improvements various generations had made to their home. “Here comes Father now,” she broke off a few moments later as the family party approached. “That’s my brother Hal,” she said pointing out a lad of about fourteen who bore a strong resemblance to Gunnilde with his yellow hair and amiable manner. “We must be getting close to starting for the day.” She waved. “Hal! Father!” She stood up to show them where they had saved them seats.

Hearing someone click their tongue disapprovingly to her left, Eden turned her head sharply and narrowed her gaze at Lady Conway who turned red and looked away. Awful woman, thought Eden. Just then, she caught sight of Arthur Conway, who was gazing rather wistfully at Gunnilde. He did not seem to find anything amiss with the way her friend was bouncing on her toes in excitement, and beaming all over her face. Her sweetness would no doubt prove a strong contrast to his own mother and sister who were extremely sour-faced.

A blast was given by a rather motley crew of buglers. Eden turned her head and found knights on horseback had entered the field and were arranging themselves into two lines, facing each other. A murmur of excitement ran through the crowd. Hal Payne sat hurriedly down on the other side of her. “We only just arrived in time,” he said sounding out of breath. “Father would keep talking to that prosy bore, Father Clements!”

“Hal,” Gunnilde whispered urgently, leaning around Eden. “Father Clements is a highly respected and moreover venerable-”

“Yes, yes, for the lords sake don’t start with that now!” said her brother hastily. “Hello,” he said belatedly, realizing he had not met Eden before. “I’m Hal. Would you like some marchpane?” He was unwrapping a piece of cloth in his lap, which was full of sticky treats.

“This is the Lady Eden,” said Gunnilde, leaning forward again with a frown. “Show some respect. She’s married to the King’s champion.”

Hal’s eyes nearly started out of his head. “That one?” he asked, pointing to middle of the line in the group to the left.

Eden was grateful he had pointed him out. She recognized Roland’s black and scarlet shield at once. “Yes,” she agreed, noticing with a start her kerchief wrapped around Roland Vawdrey’s arm. Never had she thought to see the day when Roland Vawdrey wore her favor on the field! On his other arm he wore a yellow scarf along with all the other knights in his formation. Looking to the other group, she found they all wore blue scarves. “Is the melee the mock battle?” she asked, trying to remember the last tournament, without much success. “Is that why they’re in two groups?”

“Mm-hmm,” agreed Hal Payne, his cheeks bulging with sweets. Looking at his sticky fingers, Eden was suddenly glad he had not offered a handshake. The bugles sounded again and suddenly, the horses were all spurred forward and the two sides rode at each other, levelling their lances. There was a thundering of hooves as the two lines charged each other. Eden winced at the clash of lances against breastplates. For a moment all seemed in confusion as several bodies hit the ground and rolled around perilously close to the horses hooves. Eden held her breath, as she sought Roland out. After a moment or two, she found him still sat astride his horse. She breathed out, and noticed that the lines seemed to be slowly re-forming and galloping apart again, before wheeling around to face one another again. A bunch of squires ran forward from the edges of the pitch.

“What are they-?”

“The squires are allowed to re-furnish their masters with lances up to three times,” Gunnilde told her obligingly.