Crusader Captive by Merline Lovelace Page B

come to think of as hers alone. He was about to mount, himself, when a shout rang through the air.
    “Lady Jocelyn!”
    Simon spun around. His hand went instinctively to his sword hilt, but the page that came running along the cliff’s edge wore the red and black of Fortemur.
    “Lady Jocelyn,” the boy panted when he drew closer. “Sir Hugh sent me to find you.”
    “Why?” Her glance flew to the ramparts, as if searching for a spiral of smoke or some other signal of disaster. Seeing none, she asked the boy sharply, “What’s amiss?”
    “Blondin has arrived!”

Chapter Seven
    “B londin!”
    Jocelyn’s heart took a quick leap. This was all she needed to set the seal on a day she knew she would never forget. Eagerly, she turned to Simon.
    “Have you heard of him?”
    “No.”
    “He’s well known here in the East. His verses are most lyrical and filled with biting wit.”
    “Ah! So he’s one of the troubadours we spoke of just moments ago?” A smile creased his cheeks. “One who will sing songs to your face?”
    The reminder sent heat into her cheeks.
    “He spends most of his time at the court of his patron, the Prince of Antioch,” she related as they mounted, “and only rarely travels this far south.”
    When he did, it was an occasion for great laughter and a chance to hear the latest juicy bits of gossip.
    “How fortunate that you don’t leave until the morrow,” she told Simon. “Blondin’s visits are always an occasion for everyone to dress in their finest feathers.”
    Except he had none, she remembered belatedly. Besides his borrowed breeks and coarse wool tunic and the hauberk Sir Guy was even now having altered for him, he possessed no other garments. Not that he would need them when he was inducted into the Knights Templar. Whatever he brought to the order would belong to the order.
    But tonight, Jocelyn decided, she would see him clothed as befitted a knight. He rode her grandsire’s destrier. He could wear one of his mantles, as well. The idea took hold of her as she and Simon rode through Fortemur’s mighty gates. They parted at the stables, since he insisted on currying and feeding Avenger from his own hand so the warhorse would imprint his scent.
    As Jocelyn hurried across the bailey, she saw at once that Blondin’s unexpected visit had wrought as much excitement as de Rhys’s conquest of her grandsire’s destrier had earlier that afternoon. Cook fires flamed bright in the kitchen sheds. Geese and boar roasted on spits. Two maids hurried through the garden, pulling up turnips and leeks by the fistful to throw into baskets. Even Lady Constance looked flustered when Jocelyn encountered her on the stairs to the great hall.
    “Where in heaven’s name have you been?”
    “On the cliffs.”
    “You’ll fall to your death there one of these days.”
    The older woman clicked her tongue in disapproval but was as excited as the rest of the keep’s residents. Too excited, thankfully, to comment on Jocelyn’s disordered hair and clothing.
    “Did you get word that Blondin has arrived?”
    “I did.”
    “He and his assistants are taking wine and meats in the great hall with Sir Thomas and his wife. You’ll wish to greet them, I’m sure.”
    “I do indeed. But first I must tend to another matter.”
    Lady Constance nodded, clearly preoccupied. “In the meantime, I must see to the puddings and boiled bacon. I ordered two cauldrons fired. The foodstuffs should be cooked in time to use the hot water to wash with before we sup.”
    Thankful she had such an efficient lady to tend to these chores, Jocelyn slipped down the stairs to the cellars. Even in the heat of summer Fortemur’s massive walls kept them cool and dry. Bypassing the locked chambers that stored precious spices and the one holding salted meats, she made for the counting room. It was here she reviewed rents and revenues thrice monthly with Sir Thomas. Here also where she kept the castle’s supply of gold beasants and