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Lords and Ladies (LingeringDesire & Greeneyed23)

Greeneyed23

Greeneyed23

Pulsar
Joined
Feb 3, 2013
Camelot has not been the same since the death of Authur and his knights during Mordred's usurpation. The kingdom had fallen into decay and with the churches stranglehold on religion and scientific study the people were more afraid than ever before living in their own filth and unable to rise and better themselves. The current king, a brave knight but poor king name Elias has but one child, a beautiful daughter he dotes on. His various lords hold all the wealth and true power of the kingdom and what little magics that still exist in this world are no longer at Elias' s command.

He hopes that the yearly Christmas Tournament will at least bring joy to the people. It should be quite a spectacle with every knight in the British Isles and a number from Gaul and the rest of the mainland coming. There will be swords, maces, axes, wrestling, boxing, a large mock battle, and of course, the joust. Elias is quite excited, hoping to even have a go himself and though he has not done well as king he is still strong and fit. He is not weak by failure or choice but inheritance.

His father, King Titus, gambled, drank, and whored the kingdom into massive debt then when Elias was just becoming a man he fell drunk from a tower to his death. Elias had been forced to endure the corrupt and petty advisers of his father and though he had striven hard had only managed to cut the debt by half in his thirty years reign. To be fair the kingdom had known peace and he had been able to wed his beloved bride and have his precious daughter. But with old age beginning to creep up on him, Elias is desperate to find someone to help him save the nation he has so valiantly served all his life. But considering this unlikely he simply hopes that the tournament will be entertaining.
 
They named her Fenice, meaning phoenix, he hoped above hope that she would be able to rise from the ashes of their past. Her mother agreed to the name giving her the middle name of Hope. Standing on the balcony in the frigid air, she pulled her cloak tighter about her form. Strength, beauty and kindness, the epitome of a princess and the grace of more than a few. Pale blue eyes swept over the snow riddled land; long locks of brunette hair flew out from her hood and whipped across her face blocking her line of vision.

“Milady, the weather is quite chilling… I don’t suppose~” her maid said, or at least started to before a delicate hand was lifted to silence her and stop the flow of words.

“No, I’m not at all ready to retire… you may do so. I am fine Mathilde! With so many knights upon us it would take a fool to try anything.” Her crystalline eyes bore into the maid. If anyone knew her best, it was this woman, elderly and wrinkled but wise. She knew the worry that befell the princess and how she fretted over the smallest of things. At least she cared, that was the final thought on the matter.

“As you wish, goodnight.”

The soft clip of her shoes receding back into the castle was all she heard after that. Well besides the whinnies and clip-clop of horses hooves on the cobblestone streets below. Many banners flew outside of inns and homes, pronouncing whom it was they kept. Her eyes darted here and there hoping, praying that one of them would rise victorious. However, not only in the tournament, but also in helping to restore the power back to its rightful owner. The kingdom needed a hero and Fenice knew he was out there, scouring through all of them would take time. She had no help; a lone girl could only do so much.

With only her instincts and prayers to guide her she looked down upon the sleepy little kingdom. The tournament would start the next afternoon with a big meal and a show of skills with targets out and ready to be sliced, pummeled and torn to shreds. Any amount of gossip was worthy of her time and a great hero was said to ride and fight under the approaching banner. She waited, slipping away to the nearest tavern she sat in the shadows, hood pulled low for fear she’d be spotted. Having followed the dark banner to this point. Something drew her here, a feeling. Call it intuition or a death wish, either way she’d at least be able to sort through the facts.
 
The talk that night was of course about the tournament and many a drink were raised to King Elias who was quite popular with his people, always judging them fairly and trying to help however he could. Many hoped to see him a field again remembering the days when his mighty arm had dropped many a knight both to the ground in the sword, or off his horse with a lance. No one had noticed the princess nor did they bother the young woman, all too busy for talk which was a marvel in itself.

Besides her father a number of the more popular knights were the topics of discussion. Traian, a distant descendant of Gawain, built along the lines of a horse rather than a man was the one of three local favorites, having once punched his opponent's horse during a mock battle and knocking the poor animal out cold. The second local man was Graret a much smaller man that Traian but just as popular because he was quick and had a way with the ladies. he had also managed to best Traian during a joust during a practice day earlier so everyone was eager for them to come together again. The last of the locals was Uramet a newly made knight who had proven exceptionally skilled with a sword and lance and was quickly proving himself a champion.

The perennial favorites from Gaul and the mainland were also here but as this was a local tavern they were not discussed favorably though they were given respect for their skills. The princess has heard quite a bit about all of these knights, and had met almost all of them, thus it was only she that noticed when a huge dark skinned man came in. Such arrivals were not at all unusual but the fact that he wore a knight's armor was. Still he had the knight's mark and being who she was she knew that he had been knighted by the Archbishop of London making it legal for him to compete in the tournament. He drops some coins on the bar and goes up the stairs to his room leaving the room quickly but not before she notices his deep green eyes. He vanishes without a word to anyone going to an empty room and bed. Soon the men are getting a bit excited and very drunk so it would likely be best for the princess to head home soon.

It's snowing heavily and the guards are calling for people to clear the streets in preparation for the tournament, as in the morning the local priest will walk the streets blessing the city and praying for the protection of all within.
 
Fenice watched the man curiously. No others seemed to take notice though she didn’t see how they could not. Stifling a yawn she rose from her seat soon after realizing the man was likely retiring for the night. That and the rowdiness of the crowd beckoned her to bid the tavern farewell. Not wanting to be caught she walked silently along back alleyways and roads. The call of the guards was heard as her feet reached the servants entrance. Mathilde sat in the princess’ personal sitting room, waiting for her and unable to calm her nerves until she saw the young woman was in bed.

Speaking nothing of her travels to her maid, she merely stripped down, washed up and dressed for bed. She owed nothing of an excuse to her maid, although she knew the woman knew what she was up to. She lay in bed long after Mathilde left, wide awake. Propping her head on her hand she peered into the darkness trying to recall all that she had seen. It was only then she recalled his eyes, a deep green. The dark skinned male would be peered upon in battle. Although she knew enough, not to show such interest in case her people fell by his hand.

Sleep came, restless as ever. Tossing and turning until the sun peeked above the horizon. Each day bringing new dangers and challenges. She was left to sleep on, having been known to have trouble and not resorting to the medicines and potions given to her she slept until she awoke with a start. Jumping from the bed, she hurried about trying in vain to dress herself and wondering where her maid had gone off. Spotting the woman watching and laughing from her perch in the rocker Fenice calmed greatly. “Would I allow you to sleep through the festivities?” She chided the female.

Dressed in her best and newest dress, the golden fabric was thick and able to withstand the cold. While thick soled boots and socks would keep her feet warm and comfortable. Her thick hair was left down with sections wrapping around her crown to keep it in place on top of her head. Fenice scurried through the castle, hoping she hadn’t missed the greeting of the knights. Swiftly she bustled in and sat on her throne, alongside her father. Long tables were against the wall and laden with food. Many men gathered but the one she sought wasn’t present. She noticed, but only halfheartedly that many of the knights changed their stance completely when she entered the room. She found it amusing that they sought to impress her in this way yet on the field resorted to hard blows and iron fists.

“Good morn’…” she pressed her lips to her father’s temple, his advisors watching her closely as she moved. “I take it that you have slept well Papa.” He only nodded in response, unwilling to allow the men into their private talks. Smiling the female waited until her maid approached and asked to bring her some of the delicacies, but not too many as she planned on retrieving some of her own to accidentally rub elbows with the right men. She needed someone not from here; those here didn’t see the problems and issues that plagued their fair kingdom.
 
As she surveys the room the doors open and the knights enter, as does the Archbishop of London and not long after him the man she sought. He has his helm under his arm, as do the rest, but only now can she see the many differences between the newcomer and the other knights. He is tall, which is not so rare, but he stands perhaps only a head shorter than Sir Podmore who is closer to eight feet than he is seven. His shoulders are broad and she is startled to see that he is not wearing plate armor but a strange assortment of mail and smaller plates so the breadth of his shoulders and chest are truly his body and not the expansion of padding and metal. He carried not one sword but two, both fastened on his left side though the same length, the blades look far too small to be useful. Though one of the larger men here he moves with an elegance and grace that is more like a dancer, and his steps are completely silent. She knows this because everyone had gone silent at the arrival of the archbishop. Before she can study the newcomer more the archbishop, a fat but jolly old fellow who has long doted on her like a beloved niece or granddaughter is upon her.

"Ahh the lovely Fenice. So good to see you my child." He kisses her forehead and brushes by to her father shaking his had so as to let the ceremony begin though he winks at them both. "We shall talk at the tournament." Her father laughs at the happy old fellow always quite liking the archbishop who is a brilliant mind and just as gifted at speaking, but does not confuse the realities of the physical with the spiritual always trying to genuinely help her father rather than just praying or doing charity. he even donated a thousand ducats to the crown on her last birthday though he had done so privately allowing on Elias and Fenice to be aware of the gift.

With a nod from the king the royal announcer begins introducing the knights. All of them have titles of course and some have such long winded ones that the poor fellow has to speak for a full minute or longer to get them all. Last year the man tried to memorize them all and only a wise word from his princess had convinced him to simply read the titles of the some two hundred and sixty five that had come last year. This year she has been told there are three hundred and eleven. Elias nods to each but says nothing as this is not the time for speaking just the introduction and kneeling before the royals. Still it takes some hours and finally only two are four are left.

"Sir Boris Thyhoft of the Northlands!" A huge burly fellow with massive blond mustaches thick blonde hair and rather watery but kind blue eyes, Sir Boris is not that good a knight but he is sweet and loves his wife and four children very much, having brought them along on the trip and into the royal hall introducing them himself to the king and princess. The four children, the oldest a girl of only six, all bow and present flowers to the princess then scamper of with their mother and father to the laughter and smiles of all.

Sirs Tywin and Tyrion Fleetswaddle are good strong lads but they are just barely fourteen and rally have no place here. But they are Elias's grandnephews and they do love their Great uncle very much and love to tease their elder cousin. they do the family honor by behaving and bowing together then being true to themselves by running up the throne at the King's gesture to hug their uncle and to kiss their cousin on either cheek simultaneously. Again the crowd laughs as the two come down the throne and join the others. Now only Fenice's newcomer is left.

"Sir Ne'ebo Fa Hargik. Knight of the lords Mtumbi and Tekono. Of Alexandria and Osaka respectively." A knight who serves two lords? One in japan the other in Africa? Impossible say the other knights but the newcomer steps forward bearing two chests. "I present these as gifts to his most honorable and forthright majesty King Elias of Camelot and the British Isle, the knight of the Golden Banner." The newcomers voice is quiet and calm, but with a deep resonance that silences the room. "I have come to take part of your world favorite Christmas Tournament so our two worlds may become one." The archbishop smiles. "I knighted him in the English way so he may compete.
The newcomer starts to open the chest then stops. "forgive me your grace but I have not brought a gift for your beautiful daughter..wait a moment."

The knight stands and steps forward and kneels at the ladies fee his head bowed letting her see his thick locks of hair which are scrupulously clean as are his teeth and nails. He presents the princess with two flowers, but she has never seen either before. "A Japanese orchid and an African lily Majesty. Just as before this moment their beauty had never been known in England, when I return to my home your beauty will be known by all for I shall carry your face on my lips until the day I die." He bows his head awaiting her blessing or refusal to permit this. Everyone watches the princess awaiting her reaction their breathing even stilled for this moment.
 
Fenice watched in awe, but kept it in check as the male she’d seen last night entered behind the archbishop. His manner of dress and attitude differed from the others. Allowing her eyes to roam about the room they always seemed to return to the male. His dark skin, the breadth of his chest, the way he carried himself both standing out and demanding a silent attention. Jealousy welled up in her when she noted the other females taking note of him as well; it was discouraging to know they’d have more access to him than she would. Not that she ever needed access to a male, her cheeks tinted red as her thought meandered down that road. The lips of the archbishop startled her from her, less than perfect thoughts. “S-same to you archbishop…”

Her eyes trailed to the male once more but she nodded and smiled at the words of the wise male. The announcements started, bringing a smile to her lips. Her head nods to some; others ask for her hand so they might kiss it, others offer gifts or small tokens. Clipped to her dress and between her bosoms sits a handkerchief. One lucky male would have this as a token, IF, she saw fit. However, doing so would put someone at risk. Especially if the male was the one, she wished it to be. The hours pass slowly but each knight is entertaining in his own way.

“Kind Sir Boris…” she whispers when his name is called. He was close to her heart and each year she wished him well and prayed for his safety. The flowers given her were delicate in scent and vivid in color, each were placed in a vase of water, together among the rest but nearest the top. She smiles and thanks each of the children and makes a note to see that the family is properly fed while staying, even if it means a few coins leave her purse to do so.

Her cousins, little trouble makers, as she fondly refers to them spring forth when beckoned by her father. Causing them to blush she returns the soft kiss, placing one on each of their cheeks. They promptly wipe them off and the crowd laughs uproariously. Everyone knew the boys were only there out of duty and not really trying to win the competition.

Fenice’s eyes are on the only man left to be announced, same as the others. Ne’ebo, she knew it was improper to refer to him by his given name but it rolled silently off her tongue. His voice was calm and full of authority and respect. It was something she could have easily gotten lost in; closing her eyes, she did, momentarily. As he says he wanted to make their two worlds one her eyes shot open, the way he stated it led her to her naughty thoughts from earlier. A few giggles from the maids close by caused those pangs of jealousy to swell up, she suddenly wanted nothing more than to rush forward and lay claim to him, but that wasn’t how things worked.

Her smile widened as the archbishop spoke; she knew he was the answer to her prayers and her hopes. The archbishop had always been on their side; the advisors hated him with a passion and failed at a few attempts to see him through to the grave. Eyes moved slowly over him once more, as he pulled open the lid to the first chest being presented when he stopped. Curiously, she tilted her head at him, he said she was beautiful. Sure, many men had stated the same but none seemed to mean it in the same manner he did.

Watching him bow at her feet, she almost stood and pulled him from the position of respect, but she refrained. There was something about him that called to her; it wasn’t sexual by nature but a kind of kindred spirit. As though she knew, he’d protect her life with his. Staring down at the top of his dark head she held her breath, only to gasp at the flowers he produces. She tucks one behind her ear and has the other placed in its OWN vase of water. The scent of the flowers are strong but beautiful. His words caused her to pause. What did he mean, her face on his lips?

Fenice nods her head reaching out a slim hand and strokes his soft hair gently. Standing she places a soft kiss on each of his cheeks, that was what he meant… wasn’t it? She stood looking up at him, an electrical current charging the room and ready to snap. Her soft intakes of breath were all she could hear. The kerchief… her mind spun to it but giving him the thing now meant that all would be against him. In private, she’d see if it could be arranged, she would bestow the token of approval and adoration to his keep. The soft velvet fabric of her dress felt heavy, as she stood there unsure if she’d given him what he asked.
 
At the touch of her lips on his skin his eyes blaze with delight and once she steps back he catches her hand and kisses it. "I pledge my life and honor to you Princess Fenice, the true beauty of Britannia." He steps back now ignoring the whispers his eyes locked on the Princess's as he opens the two chests which are filled with massive jewels and very well wrought jewelry. while these gifts will not pay off the debt they will help quite a bit and as Ne'ebo has said they are gifts to King Elias himself not for the throne or those behind the throne. The archbishop is smiling as the King stands gently touching his daughter's shoulders.

"Sir Ne'ebo i gratefully welcome you to our home and pray you do your lords much honor with your performance. As to the gifts i am most grateful and I swear to put them to good use for my people." Stepping down he touches Ne'ebo's shoulder and the taller man rises his helm still under his arm. Elias tilts his head curiously but carefully so as to not allow his crown to fall. "You have odd armor and weapon Sir Ne'ebo.. please stay and speak with me?" "With honor your Grace." Elias smiled and patted the younger mans arm before turning to the other knights.

"Gentlemen I welcome you all and I hope each of you enjoy yourself and do yourselves and your home lands proud in the tournament. Now please go eat and ready yourselves. The tournament will begin shortly." They all cheered "ELIAS!!" several times as they filed out going to the lists to prepare. Once only the Princess, King, archbishop, a few guards, and the Princess's maid were left with Ne'ebo Elias turned to him smiling.

"Now may i see your arms and armor in more detail?" Ne'ebo smiled his teeth shining brightly. "Of course your Grace." He hands over his helm. It is different that the English style with less artistry though it fans out to better protect the neck and the mask is carved to what the king describes as "look like a deamon." Ne'ebo smiles at this as the king calls over a page and removing his crown and giving it to the page tries on the helm. It does not sit well. Ne'ebo steps forward, "may i Your Grace?" Elias nods and Ne'Ebo shifts the helm a bit and removes a small rag in the top making it sit on the King's head quite well the mask falling into place. "Your eyes will be exposed Sir. Ne'ebo. " "Yes Your Grace but that is but a danger of the joust is it not?" "true enough." Elias removes the helm and sets it on the table as The archbishop wishes to examine the material it is made of.

Now Elias looks at the pair of long thin swords on Ne'ebo's hips. "What kind of swords are those?" Ne'ebo smiles and draws both so fast, with no sound at all, that the guards do not even have time to react. half the breadth of the smallest broadsword, each blade is single edged and slightly curved but the thickness of the blades speaks of strength. Ne'ebo reverses his weapons and hold them both out to the king who takes one and swings it rather wildly and quickly. "Sir Ne'ebo it is much too light. They will shatter will they not?" Ne'ebo smiles and steps away toward the table on which his helm sits. He smiles at the princes winks then spins slashing his blade out. For a moment nothing happens then the table collapses both legs on this side slashed clean through. each leg was more than six inches thick. Elias laughs as Ne'ebo wipes his blade and sheathes it returning the other. "your point is well taken..i hope you have less dangerous weapons for the sword. I suspect that they would cut through steel just as easily." Ne'ebo nods. "I did bring practice weapons as required Your Grace. "

Elias smiles excitedly. "Lord Archbishop will you walk with me. Fenice you may come when you are ready. Sr Ne'ebo?" "Your Grace?" "See you at the lists." "Yes Your Grace." The two old friends leave the hall with their servants and guards. After collecting his helm Ne'ebo Bows to the portrait of Fenice's mother and the throne then turns toward the Princess. "Do i have your leave to go prepare Your Grace?" He watches her staying respectful with only Mathilde here watching.
 
Fenice held her hand to her breast, the skin tingling from the action of his lips. Her cheeks blushed at his compliments, ones she’d heard before but from him, for some reason, meant more. Her eyes held his gaze, green to blue and she smiled fully. Her head tilts toward her father then, leaving his gaze for the moment but returning shortly after. Moving to her father’s side she smiled upon the knights, heart racing and cheeks flushed with something she wasn’t able to place her finger upon.

The men filed out and she listened and watched curiously, as those left conversed. His armor was intriguing but it was far too heavy for her to lift. Dragging a finger over the helm, she get an idea, the kerchief could easily replace the small rag. However, unsure of how and when she decides it would be best to hand it to him outright. Therefore letting him know of her favoritism. Biting her lip she watches them interact more, this time speaking of the swords. Sitting back on her throne, she watches in awe as he draws them, sending her into a fit of giggles as the guards scramble.

His wink and smile cause her knees to go weak and she is glad she sits. His little show causes the table to fall and she clamors to her feet in shock. Her father was impressed; she could tell and knew that in that moment this man was to be their saving grace. How, she wasn’t sure yet. Hearing her name, she smiled at her father, “Of course father… I will be along in a moment.” She turns to the man and smiles, taking in a large breath. A soft smile graces her lips when he bows to the portrait of her mother. Waving Mathilde away, she moves closer. “Not yet…” Her hand moves up to her breasts and dips slowly into the bodice of her gown.

“Sir Hargik, if I may… I would like to bestow upon you a token of my admiration and devoted trust. It would please me greatly to know you keep it upon you in each trial.” The lace kerchief pulled from her gown wafted into the air the delicate scent of her perfume. Her cheeks colored as she placed it into his large palm and pressed his fingers around it with her own. “I believe you shall gain more than just a champion status in these tournaments.” She dipped into a curtsy and smiled up at the knight. “Please take your leave, but do not forget my token.”

Mathilde watched, smiling from a corner. This was the first time she had given the kerchief out and she’d had one from the time she was toddling until a moment before. Perhaps he was the man the kingdom needed. Fenice caught her eyes and waved her out. Their thoughts ran alike; Mathilde was the only one besides her father she trusted. Turning her head she watched him go, she had no doubts that he was full of greatness. “Sir Hargik… May I walk with you to the lists…? I can meet my father there and bid you farewell.” She rushed forward joining him.
 
He stopped and allowed her to catch up. She noticed that he had already added her kerchief to his helm indeed replacing the small rag that had been there. "Of course Your grace but please Call me Ne'ebo or Sir Ne'ebo. Hargik is just my village of birth not my name."

He studied her face curiously and a bit hungrily though he did not seem to be a threat to her in that way not because lack of interest but because of his clear sense of honor. Though rare some knights had taken liberties over the years trying to get her to kiss them or a few even more inappropriate tings. She knew just from his respectful manner and eyes that he would never mistreat her so.

He smiles as the wind blows some snows onto them, "I had never thought to see the snow in Camelot. Let alone to be participating in the Christmas Tournament. I am most grateful to Your Grace and your father for allowing me to." He looked over hi shoulder at Mathilde. "Is your guardian to protect you from the weather? or the possibility of me being a brute?" He smiles his eyes dancing with mischief. is zest and excitement for life is more apparent than it has been in any other man she has ever known, even the jolly archbishop. His absolute confidence in manner and movement speaks of a man who has done much but is always looking for more.

The streets are packed with people but of course they shift aside for a knight and their beloved princess calling out her name, known calling for him though she can hear the confusion of the people, many asking who he is, some mistaking him for the Princess's new bodyguard. One small girl is leaning out into the street hanging from her mother's fingers when her grip slips throwing the child onto her face right before the knight. the entire crowd freezes in silence as the man looks down at the child who has not moved. Many know that some knights will beat or even kill a peasant who crosses his path. Ne'ebo lays his helm down to the side as he kneels ad gently helps the child up. "Are you hurt little one?" She has a small bump on her forehead and snow in her hair but she shakes her head. "No Sir..Please don't beat me!" Ne'ebo chuckled. "No no dear one. i will not beat you." He brushes the snow from her hair. "what is your name little one?" "Trala Sir." "Enough of that Sir stuff. My name is Ne'ebo Trala. Im pleased to meet you. Trala this is is the Princess Fenice." Trala blinked up at the princess her big brown eyes widening but she remembered her manners and curtsied perfectly. "It is an honor you Majesty." Ne'ebo smiled speaking with Trala's mother who stepped onto the road with the knight who turned to the princess. "Your Grace would it be alright if my new friend Trala and her mother Brianne joined us walking to the tournament? They are to be my guests there." Brianne curtsies as well blushing at becoming a figure of interest as well. The closeness of the crowd would have prevented real discussion between the princess and Ne'ebo anyway as the people she was trying to rescue her father from had many spies.

The crowd watches the princess silently Trala and her mother both nervous. they know the Princess to be a good woman but they knew that sometimes the nobles could be very mercurial especially when interrupted. Ne'ebo is perfectly relaxed waiting for her answer having fetched his helm.
 
Smiling she glanced at the replacement in his helm and bit her lip. “It’s forbidden for me to use a male’s first name unless we are more than familiar with one another.” She blushed; the scrutiny with which he looks at her caused the blush to deepen. Her eyes flitted over him, taking in his pure male form. His respect and honor of her were endearing and his merriment contagious.

“Snow comes a lot for the Christmas tournament, it is wonderful to see.” Smiling she looked back at Mathilde, “Neither... it is to protect YOU from Me.” she giggled and tossed a handful of snow on his shoulder. Fenice couldn’t help wanting to know more about him, he was sweet and happy. Something she needed more of in her life.

The child falling caused Fenice to grip Ne’ebo’s arm gently. Fenice bent with the large man, the crowd staring at them trying to see what he would do. Relief rushed through her when he began to speak softly to the child. Fenice stood and allowed him to handle it. Her mind rolled over the situation, nothing about him was what one would expect, it was refreshing. Fenice couldn’t help but feel attracted to him. If it were her choice, she would love to have him as her king. The thought caught her off-guard.

An introduction was made and she smiled down at the little one before dipping into a low curtsy herself. “No, it is more honorable for me to meet you dear one. That bump on your head could use some snow, it will help with the bruising and it’s also refreshing.” She grabbed a handful of the clean stuff and held it to the child’s head as she giggled. Grasping her hand, she moved back to the knight’s side. A woman stepped up; a pang of jealousy swept through her at the idea Ne’ebo could be attracted to her.

She wanted to say no, but the expectant eyes of the little girl caused her to rethink her decision. “I’d be delighted to have you join us.” Her smile was a bit forced but her attitude genuine. Her eyes moved over the crowd, “We have a tournament to get to.” She gave the child’s hand a squeeze. Her smile warm. Fenice knew this was not the proper time to talk, she knew inviting him to her room would look bad. However, a secret meeting in the woods would be fine. Mathilde would cover for her and Ne’ebo would be discreet.
 
Ne'ebo smiled taking Trala's other hand swinging her gently with the princess while the child's mother walked behind the group with Mathilde. " where is your daddy Trala?" Trala starts to answer then pulls her hand free from Ne'ebo's grasp to point. "There." A city guard is standing at attention but his eyes blink confused at the sight. Ne'ebo smiled and pulled the man into the group letting him taking his place with his wife while Ne''ebo cast an eye at tee Princess. The guard seems nervous but does not argue as the knight scoops up his daughter putting her on his shoulder.

As they walked Ne'ebo continue the conversation. "I understand Your Grace though i don't really see the issue but ah well." Trala giggles as he tickles her side. The crowd has been cheering calling both his name and that of the princess his act of befriending the child and her family having won many of them to him forever.

At the list he lets the girl down and walked both her and the princess up to the box seats helping the princess up onto the raised dais by her father and the Archbishop who was standing by the throne then taking Trala's parents to the seats by the archbishop's place who had agreed tot he arrangement with smile. Trala kissed Ne'ebo cheek as he knelt to present it to her then he stood kissed the Princess' hand bowed to the King and went down to the lists. taking his place by a covered table of weapons for the target competition. the child choosing to stay with the princess.

Each knight turned to wait for the archbishop' prayer of thanks for the Christ's coming, and for the happiness of the day, the safety of all, and the salvation of all. When he finished the King raised is hands the tournament beginning with the blowing of horns then Elias stood. "Friends. I welcome you to the Christmas tournament." The crowd cheers. Elias smiles. "I will not make a long speech as we are all eager to see these brave men test themselves. So i will just say this. All refreshments sold here at the tournament is free. A Christmas gift to my people. Enjoy my friends. Long live Britain." As he sat the crowd erupted with cheers of "LONG LIVE THE KING!!! LONG LIVE THE KING!!!LONG LIVE THE KING!!"

The horns blast again and the official announcer for the tournament, also the royal announcer, steps up and says.. "We will begin with the Target competition. Judges are with each knight and that knight's score will determine hiss place in the joust. " As one the knights whip away the sheets over their weapons tables. some have many weapons some only a few. The princess clearly sees that Ne'ebo has so many weapons he needs two tables, including the bow and arrow and spear which are rarely used by knights in the target competition. the judges are retired knights, trustworthy nobles and a number of persists. As everyone watches cheering and betting and taking the king at his word getting food and drink though there is nod danger of the tournament running out, the castle having been storing food in vast amounts for just this tournament for months, while this also was actually helping the king as though the tournament was officially cost of the throne he had allowed the various lords he owed debts to to field the funds and with the gift he had prevented them from gaining a profit which they had claimed they could not use as payment for his debts. The lords were not happy but they could not retract the gift now.

The targets were quickly falling as the competition went on but Ne'ebo was quickly becoming the focus of attention, even by other knights who were finished and their judges the scores already allied. He started with the bow and arrow and fired his quiver empty each shot int eh target's heart or head. With his spear he had gutted two targets with slashes, then he had buried it more than four feet into the target some hundred yards away where his arrow riddled target also lay. He hurled war hatchets, knives, small metal thugs he called shurikan, darts, and even a borrowed English broadsword with unerring accuracy. With his swords he was terrifying splitting not only his targets but the posts on which they sat. his other hand weapons were just as fearsome and when he finally finished he received a very impressive score but his fellows were too impressed with the weapons and his kill to feel bitter, though again the lords looked very angry though the reason was apparent to the princess. they were betting on a number of favorites and this newcomer was screwing up their odds and their profits.

after Ne'ebo finished it was time for the small performances of arms by the squires, the king, who had joined the knights to watch Ne'ebo work. The squires worked hard proving talented and worthy of knighthood for the most part though there were slips and one poor lad hurt himself quite badly with a dropped spear but the King and crowd had mercy and knighted them all much to the crowd's delight. Next came the riding competition which was what everyone was truly there to see. There were the three rings each knight had to catch on his lance, then the three targets that must be defeated, however the knight chose, before the knight could officially compete in the joust. Each knight would have two tries if his first went poorly and they had never lost a knight to this challenge yet at a Christmas tournament but there was always the chance though this would be quite a bad omen for the entire tournament.

Trala whispers. "Will Sir Ne'ebo make it Majesty?"
 
Relief rushed through the princess upon seeing the woman’s husband and child’s father. Her smiled warmed tremendously. She didn’t recognize him but waved him over just before Ne’ebo pulled him into their troupe. A sidelong glance told her that Ne’ebo felt her jealousy and it caused her to blush. The child almost didn’t release her hand as she was lifted to the high shoulders of the knight. The action pulling her up close to his side. The warmth emanating off his body was comforting but she knew to appear too familiar would be unwise.

“It is forbade… under the right of marriage is the only way it would be allowed… but even then the choice is out of my hands…” Clasping her hands in front of her, she stepped to the side a bit so only her sleeve was brushing against his body. What she would have truly delighted in was wrapping her arm around his and allowing her to guide her more possessively toward the arena. Giving up a wistful sigh, she moved along listening to the little girl chattering upon his broad shoulders.

Once Trala was on the ground, her hands slid into the princesses and the knights, as though binding them together. This posed a problem at the raised dais. Releasing the girl’s hand, she lifted her skirts and wrapped her shaking fingers around the offered ones of Ne’ebo. Her heart nearly burst out of her chest at the innocent touch of their fingers. She gave them a squeeze and kept her eyes forward, smiling at both her father and the Archbishop. She moved to stand at her father’s side, unwanting to sit as of yet. After he’d gone, she pressed the kissed hand to her breast but ceased the action when she saw Mathilde eyeing her. Fenice smiled down at her little companion, her hand running through the child’s hair gently before resting upon her shoulder as the Archbishop stepped forward and gave his prayers.

Crystalline eyes fell to the dark male, a soft smile playing on her lips. Typically, she was not one to notice certain males or pay them any special attention. However, this case was different. The attraction was there and strong. Her mind had never been thrown for such a loop, she always saw herself with a prince but the money for a dowry to offer a prince could not be brought together. Fenice knew this was an attempt to kill their lineage of rule. Hence, the tournament for her hand was put in place by her father and the archbishop. This was the only way to ensure she married a strong warrior and not someone that the advisors chose. They had attempted and failed at several arranged marriages.

Fenice’s thoughts are disrupted by the thunderous clapping and cheering going up to praise her father. Clapping the princess sits, a small stool retrieved for the child. Her eyes linger on the tables holding Ne’ebo’s weapons. Some she recognizes and others she’s never before laid her eyes on. She watches in awe as he, with ease, takes the lead and shows the other knights how it is done. Fenice watches, eyes wide and a smile on her lips, holding back on cheering. Fascinated with the bulge of muscles and the sheer fact that it is little to know effort for him to easily take the lead, she is sure of it.

Pride and desire well up in her and she rises to her feet with the crowd. The beams split and shattered looking like they were old, when in reality they were the newest posts. Ignoring the lords, she sat next to the child, giddy with possibility. Fenice watched the show from the squires, her eyes moving between Ne’ebo and the activities. When the spear moved through the boys leg she didn’t gasp, too preoccupied with thoughts of the knight. She understood the next challenge, had caught the rings herself in toying with her father. Learning to ride was a joy of hers, that is until her horse was sold by the lords saying he was a frivolous luxury that wasn’t needed. She cried in Mathilde’s arms but never showed the lords her anger or tears.

“Yes dear one,” Fenice stated pressing her lips to the girl’s temple. She hoped, her heart thundered behind her breasts. Worry entered her blue gaze, as she looked him over. Her fingers gently squeezing the girls. She sent up a prayer for him and sat on the edge of her seat. The joust would take every ounce of strength she had to stay seated and not rush forward if he stumbled or fell. He was the hero in her heart, win or lose.
 
Trala squeezed the Princess' hand as the competition began. Slowly but surely they got all the knights through until only Ne'ebo was left. Even her cousins had made it, on their second try their uncle pointed out laughing. Ne'ebo had brought up a truly magnificent horse, easily twice the size of the Princess' old horse. He, unlike the others, needed no help and swung into the saddle with ease. Taking the reins after putting on his helm, his green eyes the other part of him visible now, he took his lance and took off.

One ring!!
The crowd oohhed.
Two rings!!
The crowd ahhed.
Three rings!!
Yells of excitement.
The first target down with a dagger in it's face.
More yells.
The second target goes down without a head at all.
The yells and cheers are stilled as he rounds on the third target then stops. He lifts the lance and makes it seem to float in the air for a moment before he catches it and with a sudden grunt hurls it the hundred yard to the other target spearing it right in the chest the force of his throw ripping the target off the post and breaking the post to the explosion of cheers of the crowd.

The lords are furious as they have to pay off on their bets against Ne'ebo their dislike of him having made them bet foolishly. Fenice notices that this includes to her father who has quite wisely bet on Ne'ebo apparently quite heavily.

As Ne'ebo was the last and it is now beginning to grow dark, the king dismisses everyone by waving the horns blowing and having Ne'ebo come with him to the dais. "Ne'ebo will spend the tournament as our guest in the castle Fenice. " He takes her hand as Trala goes to her friend and is scooped up giggling to sit on his shoulder. Ne'ebo falls into line with the king and his daughter while Trala's parents follow just behind Ne'ebo a few men already fetching Ne'ebo's things from the tavern. The king has also brought along her cousins a few local knights, and one or two minor kings with whom he wishes to make friends. They stop at Trala's house to say goodbye to the girl and her parents ensuring that the trio will be at their place in the royal box the next morning when the mace begins.

Her cousins are arguing of course and the other knights are chatting with Ne'ebo about his performance and their excited that he will be participating in every event most because they wish to challenge themselves but a few, as Fenice well knows, merely want him to get hurt in one of the minor events. Ne'ebo is polite and gracious assuring the famous knights he has little chance against them, his eyes, unseen, always locked on Fenice. Her kerchief still bobs on his helm under his arm and she can feel Mathilde watching them both carefully though they are several yards apart her father and the archbishop who also stay at the castle having her full attention. Or so they think.

"Fenice tell me what do you think of the field this year?" He father smirks at this question not missing her reactions to the newcome knight. The archbishop has not either but neither man is pressing the situation. Upon reaching the castle the king orders a feast and has Ne'ebo sit beside him, with Fenice on the other side. "Tell me a story of your homeland Ne'ebo." "Which one Your Grace?" Elias chuckled. "Africa lad."

Ne'ebo grinned but obliged. "Once in the jungles of my home land there was a mighty lion. His roar could shake mountains. His strength in battle was so great even Tantor the elephant trembled at the thought of facing mighty Numa the lion. One day Numa was at a water hole drinking when he saw a beautiful lioness come down to the water. He roared but not too loudly to show he was proud and strong. but the lioness took no notice. 'She is trying to bait me into one of my mightiest roars." said Numa to himself. Thus he roared and well. The trees shook, the land trembled, and every animal fled him. Except the beautiful lioness. Now very curious he wen to her. 'Didst thou not hear me?' Suddenly she whirled on him and said, "Boo!' startling him so much he fell into the water. When he emerged sore angry she was laughing so she rolled upon the grass. Curious he went to her again dripping even from his thick mane and asked, 'Why dost thou laugh?' She looked up at him and answered, 'Because my mighty king has been scared by his queen.' Before he could answered she licked his face then nuzzled his neck then he took her home. And she gave him many mighty sons and daughters." Ne'ebo sits and the other knights and even the lords asked, "What does it mean?" Ne'ebo smiled and raised his glass in salute to Fenice. "No matter how strong a man or even a king may be, nothing can be stronger than his queen." He drank as did the others. Elias smiled very much liking this point.

A murmur of, "But she is not queen yet.." went amongst the lords and Ne'ebo laughed. "Gentlemen I have fought on the field of honor and in battle. I have shed blood and mine own blood has been shed. But this i tell you truthfully. I would rather face a thousand unwinnable battles that be the object of wrath of a angry woman." He look right at them as he speak and though only they, Ne'ebo and the two royals truly know what he was saying, everyone caught the subtle challenge and with relief the jester and musicians are called.
 
Each ring on the end of his lance caused her heart to beat faster. The steed he rode was magnificent and it matched his rider. Once the targets were gone, Fenice could barely hear. Standing she moved to the edge of the raised dais, careful not to fall. Posts were shattered and the looks on the lord’s faces was enough to keep a smile on hers for years. The darkness of the sky barely registered to Fenice until she heard the horns.

Disappointment entered her eyes when her father takes her hand, helping her down and not Ne’ebo. His words shock her though, “Y-yes father, that is acceptable… what with the wonderful gifts he bestowed upon us.” She graced him with a smile, careful not to allow her eyes to linger upon him too long. The news caused joy to spread through her soul, a moment alone with him would now be possible. The idea of sneaking into his room caused her to tremble.

Fenice walks among the men, silent but ever watching. Her eyes falling to Ne’ebo more often than not. She listens as the knight’s talk and her cousins prattle on about nonsense. Blushing when their eyes meet, Fenice glances away but always meets his eyes again. Glancing up at her father she can only smile, “I think it is a wonderful change amongst the normal tournaments that befall us year after year. A wonderful change indeed…” Her eyes land on Ne’ebo again, “I think we have Sir Hargik to thank for that.”

Her mind is lost to the conversation after that. Moving with the group. Used to sitting at her father’s side she is delighted to find herself seated next to the knight. Sitting in the seat, she is able to look upon him and play it off as though she is glancing at her father. The food is supplied and she is able to listen and turn her attention to her plate so she isn’t simply staring upon him as he tells his story. Listening she can imagine him in the jungle as the lion, her lips lift into a smile as she spares a small look at him. Herself as the lioness.

Either way her chest tightens and her cheeks tint red, imagining her nuzzling his cheek. This leads to more in her mind and children are not far off. Lifting her chalice, she takes a long drink trying to ease her throat and her mind. Her eyes lift to his, was it possible that he felt it too? She swallowed hard and attempted to pay attention to the jester, his antics enough to ease the tension in the room. Her body burned beneath her dress, she needed some air. “Perhaps after dinner I might enlighten you with a tour of the library Sir Hargik… or a game of chess?” Anything to be alone with him for a moment, Mathilde would stand as a chaperone, or even the Archbishop. Anyone to inform the knight of the help she truly needed.
 
"Why i think both would suit me rather well Princess Fenice thank you. Just allow me to remove this." Unlike the others yet again he had a simpler job with his armor which he gives to the servants as eh removes it. They struggle under ti despite this but soon he is in simple but suitable robes and moves to her taking her hand. She notes that he moves with the same sure grace but his movements are even quicker now. "After you Your Grace." Both Mathilde and the archbishop followed then to her surprise so did her father. "I want to see someone beat you at chess my dear."

Ne'ebo is very impressed with the library asking to be allowed to read the books at some point which is granted happily by the king. Finally they come to the reading area and the beautiful chess set nearby. While the servants built up the fire in the fireplace and the Archbishop and king took their seats and Mathilde took a seat by Fenice once Ne'ebo helped her sit.

Once taking his seat and sure that the doors were shut and locked Ne'ebo sighed to the archbishop. "You were not exaggerating my lord. Those men are cruel evils monsters." The king blinks but the archbishop explains. "Ne'ebo knows of your debt Elias." Ne'ebo nods as he rubs his hands gently looking at Fenice. "They assume far too much . I would like to help however I am able."

He moves his king side knight out and to the right. He looks up at Fenice his bright green eyes glowing. He clearly wishes to speak to them all but he also going to use the game to get them some time alone as Elias is clearly also tired.
 
Her eyes lifted, brightening as she watched his large hands remove his armor and reveal more of him to her. She placed her hand in his and rose. His steps are quick but she wishes to loiter a bit, taking her time. One hand lifts her skirts to keep up, in doing so her eyes light on her father. His explanation causes her to laugh, “Traitor…”

The library doors are opened by Mathilde and the Archbishop, each sharing a glance. Fenice does not miss this and knows inside this room the knight will know all. Clinging to his arm she allows him to guide her around the library she knows well. The sitting area is informal and personal, intimate even. She relaxed back into the chair he led her to, the fire warming her feet as she slipped off her shoes and stretched them toward it.

Fenice, who had been staring into the fire and wishing she and Ne’ebo were alone, head shot up at his words. Moving her eyes over each of the people in the room, eyes lingering on Ne’ebo, mouth open and soft as she sucked in air, waiting for him to say more. His eyes on her caused her heart to triple in its beating.

He wanted to help… her lips pursed in thought. Her mind rolling over him and trying to figure something out, unable to focus on his first move. She blinked looking up at him, her light blue eyes meeting his . “I am not sure of how you could help…” her fingers hovered over a single pawn, but she only bit her lip and gazed over the board.
 
Elias watches the young knight and sighing nods. "yes. My father was not a...strong man. We do need help Ne'ebo. But how can you help?

Black Queen's pawn up two.

Ne'ebo smiles. "I was well trained in many arts your Grace. Warfare, diplomacy, combat, politics, weapons, economics, tactics, sociology, intrigue, subterfuge, leadership, and subtly. I can help firstly by removing the debts and while slowly removing these men from power."

White Queen's Knight up and right.

Elias grunts. "That sounds good but how?"

Black kingside Rook's pawn up two.

"Ne'ebo looks at Fenice, then at the other three. "Who is the most dangerous of the lords?"

White King's night up and to the left beside pawn.
Black Queen's pawn up threatens knight.

"That would be Lord Gabriel Winter. The crown owes him two million ducats and as a young single man he has eyes for the princess himself."

White queen's knight moves right and up.
Black queen's knight up and left.
White queen's knight moves left and up.
Black queen's rook pawn moves up

Ne'ebo nods. "How far are you willing to go Your Grace?" "Well no killing and no disgrace if it can be helped. These are my subjects despite their belief otherwise. Ne'ebo nods again thinking.

White queen's rook's pawn moves up two.
Black queen's rook moves up three.
White king's knight takes bishop's pawn.
Black queen moves up three.
White queen's knight moves down and right.
Black queen takes white knight.

"Then we will begin with you making heavy bets on me. use the gifts i gave you. get long odds. I hear I'm catching ten to one. bet all you can on me. " Mathilde speaks. "Why such long odds?" "Ne'ebo smiles. "Because I'm new. They are sure I'm a fluke." Elias chuckles. "Alright. but those odds won't last. And are you sure you can win?" Ne'ebo blinks and smiles. "Your Grace I am very sure."

White king's knight pawn moves up one.
Black pawn takes pawn.
White king's bishop pawn takes pawn.
Black queen's knight moves up and right.
White pawn moves up threatening rook.
Black queen's knight moves up and right.
White pawn takes rook.
Black Queen takes pawn.

"But that won't be enough." The archbishop asks, "What do you mean Ne'ebo?" "After i prove myself the odd will shrink. We will also need to get you some other winners amongst the less popular knights. the current longest odds are on Sir Boris and your nephews Your Grace. I have a plan for that." "What?" "Boris is n excellent knight he just gets distracted. I am going to focus him. Your nephews will be rubbish int eh joust. they have enthusiasm but not enough experience. but I can make sure they win some matches that will bring you large profit Your Grace." "But how?"

White's queen's rook's pawn moves up one.
Black king's knight takes pawn.
White queen's knight's pawn moves up two.
Black queen moves up. Check
White knight moves back and right breaking check
Black knight takes knight.
White queen's rook takes knight
Black knight takes queen opening check.
White king takes knight.
Black bishop moves diagonally five.

"Your nephews need only get angry and have a reason to win. Those two young daughters of Lord Hamish's will do. they seem quite taken with the boys. ""Ahh." "Yes." "What of Boris?" "He needs only be told that Lord Greyber is betting against him." "But Greyber is his uncle!" "Exactly.""How do you know all this?" "I listen."

White queen's knight's pawn moves up one.
Black queen's knight's pawn moves up one.
White queen's rook moves back two.
Black king castles.
White queen's rook takes bishop.
Black queen moves right one.
White king's bishop's pawn moves up one.
Black queen's pawn takes pawn.
White queen's rook takes pawn
Black king's pawn moves up one.
White king's bishop moves diagonally two
Black queen moves right one.

The three elders look at each other. "Well that handles the money in a way but what about cutting Lord Winter's power? He is the commander of the royal army." "How many men of the army are his?" "All..." "Then simple. Make them swear loyalty to the crown or they will no longer be part of the royal army and they will no longer draw pay as members. Any guards will do the same. Pay them by selling this." ne'ebo pulls out a large diamond from his robe. "Worth five hundred thousand ducats at last check." "But Ne'ebo.. how.." "I was making sure you were a good man your Grace." Elias take sit looking at his daughter stunned.

White king's bishop's pawn moves up threatening queen.
Black queen moves right one.
White king's rook moves left two.
Black queen's rook's pawn moves up one.
White pawn takes pawn.
Black king's knight's pawn moves up two.
White queen's rook moves left two.
Black king's knight's pawn moves up one.
White king's bishop takes pawn.
Black queen takes bishop. Check
White king moves right out of check.
Black king's pawn moves up one.
White queen's pawn moves up one.
Black King moves diagonally right.
White pawn becomes queen. Check

Ne'ebo ignores the uproar caused by the diamond and focuses on the game while the other three chatter about the pl;an and finding no flaw in it agree to it. Elias speaks. "But now i owe you..." Ne'ebo shakes is head. "Not at all Your Grace. It is a gift from a friend. You allowed em to participate in your tournament and meet your lovely daughter. I owe you far more than this."

Black rook takes queen.
White rook takes rook.
Black king's bishop moves diagonally right four.
White queen's rook moves down four.
Black bishop moves diagonally left one.
White rook takes queen.
Mathilde moans. "oh Fenice..."
Black bishop moves diagonally left three.
White King's rook's pawn moves up two.
Black bishop moves diagonally right one.
White king's rook moves right two.
Black bishop's pawn moves up two.
White king's rook's pawn move up one.
Black Bishop's pawn moves up one.
White king's rook pawn moves up one.
Black bishop's pawn moves up one.
White pawn takes pawn.
Black's knight's pawn moves up one.
White king's rook's pawn moves up one.
Black bishop moves diagonally right two.
White pawn becomes Queen.
Elias and the archbisop whistle. "Fenice I believe he has you."
Black knight's pawn moves up one.
White pawn takes pawn.
Black bishop takes pawn. Check.
White rook takes pawn. Check.
Black king breaks check moving left.
White king's rook moves up six. Check.
Break check diagonal left.
Mathilde groans. "He has you on the run Fenice."
Queen moves left four. Check.
Break check right.
White rook moves right three.
Black King moves right.
Rook takes pawn. Check.
Breaks check diagonal right.
Queen moves down two. Checkmate.

The elders smile and shake their heads. "Good try Fenice. Good even Ne'ebo." Ne'ebo stands as the archbishop and the king leave. Sitting back he smiles at the princess. "you play well Princess but i think we distracted you. Perhaps a tour of the palace would settle your mind?" He smiles his eyes glowing warmly holding out his hand.
 
Fenice listened to them her hands moving fluidly over the board, pieces falling to the side as they went. His eyes catching hers at every instance caused her to smile. Some blushing on her part when she lingered too long. The name of Lord Winter caused her blood to run cold, she hated the way the man looked at her. Hungry in a way that made her skin crawl; the look differed from the looks of Ne’ebo. She swallowed hard and glanced up at him. She didn’t want Lord Winter and prayed he could see that.

Licking her lips, she continued with the game, barely listening to the men talk of betting and odds, something Fenice stayed away from. Biting at her lip, she concentrated or at least attempted to concentrate on the game. She heard the confidence with which he spoke of being sure that he could and would win. The magnitude of his concentration on the conversation while playing chess surprised her, she tried not showing it but she was finding herself lost in one and then the other.

She thought she heard Ne’ebo mention Boris and her cousins. But she was watching the board more closely than the conversation at this point. Glancing up at Ne’ebo her eyes light on the diamond. Looking at her father Fenice can only shake her head in stunned disbelief, her face matching that of her father’s. The game forgotten for the moment. She listens to them conspire, agreeing wholeheartedly. She knew how her father felt and he would feel as though he owed the man something, anything. However, the knight’s next words cause her to blush furiously.

Fenice continues moving her pieces, concentration fully blown at this point. When Mathilde moans her focus regains but it is too late. Doing everything she could think to keep herself alive but it is all in vain. Drawing in a long slow breath, she accepts defeat. “I’ll accept defeat when it comes from a worthy opponent.” She smiled up at Ne’ebo as they walked away leaving them only with a yawning maid. Slipping her hand into his she also smiles, “Yes I think that might do the trick.”

Rising she turns to Mathilde, “Please retire to my sitting room, I shall be plenty safe in Sir Hargik’s watch.” She blushes turning her attention to Ne’ebo. “Where would you like to start, I believe your room is on the third floor in the East wing… mine is the same but the West.” She wrapped her hand around his forearm, or as near to it as she could. The paleness of her skin to his was very noticeable this way, but it thrilled her to no end.

“The courtyard would be cold at this hour, though in the summer it is lovely with the rose bushes and other blooming flowers.” She smiled up at him, “The dining hall you have seen… and well the library… Other than that, we have the courtyard, gardens, ballroom. The throne room and bedrooms, various sitting and meeting rooms and a multitude of bedrooms.” She paused guiding him along a small corridor toward the kitchen noticing he had very little at dinner. “I’m glad that you and I can finally have a moment alone, you have intrigued me all day. Why is it now that you come to us Ne’ebo?” His name is a whisper from her lips; fear that someone would hear the familiarity in her tone. Fenice needed to say his name aloud and had held back all day.
 
Ne'ebo's eyes glowed as she said his name. "I come because I am needed Fenice." He had gently squeezed her hand many times as she lead him about his eyes locked on her face. Now with his statement he knew would confuse her he smiled and found a small sitting room and explained.

"I was born in the small African town of Hagrik. It's several hundred miles south of Egypt. I mastered my warrior training by the time i was ten and had already killed my first ten men. I was with my father when a group of Egyptians came to speak to him about mining the gold and other precious stones and metals in our lands. He agreed but on the condition they take and educate me. they agree and did though they did not treat me well. I was little more than a slave but i learn to read and write and do all my maths. I discovered their plans to kill my people less than a year after i arrived. i killed them all and presented the evidence as my defense. i was acquitted but also banished, but a friend took me with him into Asia. We went to China first but they would not speak with us so we sailed to japan. there my friend was killed in accident and after a few months wondering around in which I learned Japanese I was taken in by my Lord Tekono."

"Tekono is the most brilliant warmaster I have ever known Fenice. For the last fifteen years he has personally trained me. I have become his chosen samurai, a Japanese knight, despite my not being Japanese. I have fought for him and my father who is my African lord though I have not seen him since he sent me to Egypt though we have written.
Your archbishop is friends with a priest there who is my lord's good friend. They learned of the tournament and sent me. Tekono wishes to improve relations and perhaps even trade between our nations. When i arrived your Archbishop told me everything. I sent a message to my master while i waited to be knighted and he gave me permission to stay and help. He does not expect me to return to his service and has released me to become my own man. I do still have the right to use his name and my father's as my lords."

He smiled as he kissed Fenice's hand then shrugged and stood bending at the wait cupped her face and kissed her deeply but tenderly. "We've both wanted me to do that since we first saw each other."
 
She tilted her head at him, not understanding. However, he was right, they did need him… more specifically, she needed him. The door to the sitting room was closed behind them, a fire glowed gently keeping the room lit and warm. She sat upon the low chase lounge across from him, her fingers not leaving his as they sat. Fenice listened intently. His story was sad, full of passion and she wasn’t sure how he turned out as well as he did. Tekono sounded like a wonderful man and a great master.

She couldn’t imagine not seeing her own father and only receiving letters here and there. “Improving relations would be good… and trade is always a great thing between countries…” Her voice waivered as his lips met the back of her hand. Fenice smiled at him as he stood fully expecting to be pulled to her feet but his hand held her cheeks tilting her head. With only a moment left, she closed her eyes and accepted his kiss, responding to the tender touch of his lips to hers.

It was like flying and spinning all in the same moment. When he pulled back a bit, she let out a shattered breath. Blue eyes opened and gazed upon his face, so close to hers while inside her heart soared thumping wildly. His words caused her to smile, “Yes, we have.” She waited until he moved back a step and offered his hand. She took it but gave him only a moment to react before her lips were on his again. Warm fingers sliding along his chest to his shoulders and resting at his neck as she pressed her body close to his, unable to resist needing to feel him close.

It was only a moment but it felt longer. Stepping back, she could only smile up at him, “Why stop at once…” She whispered softly. Her hand finding his she moved to the door, “I suppose I should show you to your room, unless you are in need of a snack, I know for sure the cook had mincemeat pie left over from dinner.” She bit her lip. Her hand shaking slightly in his, “I don’t wish to say goodnight so soon, not after that... it was splendid.”
 
"Mmm food..." he smiled and leads her down to the kitchen but no mincemeat pie is waiting. "Meh." He helps her sit on a stool by the preparation table and starts going through things and smiling he starts cutting vegetables while some bread heats up in the oven. He makes a chicken soup and makes the bread into bowls handing her one and dipping more bread into his bowl smiling as he watched her. The soup is very very good and warms her hands through the bread. "Eat quick."

He leans against the table as he eats watching her. he seems to be mulling something over and finally he sighs. "So Fenice...tell me about these troubles your father is in. What do you think about them?"

He had carefully bolted the main door and the sound of the roaring fire in the fireplace has given them privacy. He studied her face waiting for her answer wanting to knowing how she felt and what she thought should be done about the issues he was here to help with.

The way he looks at her and the way he shifts around to protect her and moves to keep her in sight tells her that her feelings are fully returned and she can trust him to be hers for as long as she wants him. His quick understanding of what he has been told and his sincere desire to help bespeaks of his intelligence and kindness. His friendship with the archbishop assures her of his honesty and of course his actions since they met have drawn them together making their kissing so very sweet. While he eats he gently presses his arm against hers.
 
Watching him work from her stool, she was excited to see what he was doing. Never before had a man cooked for her like this. To her knowledge, her father had never cooked for her mother. Once the bowl is in her hands she smiles at him, she’d been expecting a bowl and not the warm soup in a bowl of bread. Smiling at him, she tilts her head, “I will... such a brilliant idea…” She muses quietly.

Her lips still tingled from the kisses, and left her yearning for more. His question caught her off guard from her eating. Her eyes trailed to the door, seeing the bolt in place she felt safe to answer him properly and not in a shielded way. “I think the only solution is for me to find a husband that isn’t afraid to stand up to the lords. I am worried they will attempt to have him killed. I couldn’t handle it…” She stared into the fire, unable to have him look at her in that way and know the fear she felt was for him.

“My father frets and fights with them too much, he attempts to keep it from me but I know. I can see it in his eyes. It will kill him if something isn’t done.” She paused and dipped a bit of bread into the soup, “I know you are the man up for the task and that you will be able to save us from this predicament.” His arm to hers reassured her that he was here, present and wanting of her time.

“I have never thought a man would come along that makes me feel, so alive and...” She blushed, instead of finishing her statement she continued eating her soup and bread bowl. It was empty and only the bread shell left. “This was delicious, thank you Ne’ebo.” She picked at the shell and smiled at him placing more of it into her mouth. She didn’t want to go to bed yet, but she knew it was the inevitable since he had the tournament and needed rest.
 
Ne'ebo nodded as he listened to her his eyes on the far wall. He caught her subtle implications that she wanted him as the husband to protect her and her father from the lords and he nodded knowing he could do this. When she flat said she wanted him to be the man he smiled finishing his soup and bread and cleaned up the kitchen before returning to her this time standing before her. "Fenice I will help and if your father will allow it i will win the tournament for your hand. " He cupped her face and kissed her deeply, this time holding the kiss a long while filling it with his passion, his desire, his longing for her and her happiness.

Once he did break free he took her hand and lead her to her rooms and knocked on the door Mathilde opening it. he smiled. "You sleep well princess. i will see you tomorrow where i will do you much honor. And we will begin chipping away at your father's debt." He kissed her cheek nodded to Mathilde then went toward is own room.

Once there he checked first his weapons and armor for tampering, then the room, bed, closets, and windows carefully for would be attacker, snares or traps. Not finding any he still gathered his sleeping pad, armor and weapons and moved into the room next door which he also checked. He knew that eventually the lords would come for him and while the princess would be safe once the king implemented the new plan to remove the disloyal guards, he could not be guarded except by himself. This would be annoying but he could sleep under this conditions as he had before and after securing the door with the bed he stretched out wrapped himself in a thick blanket and was asleep in moments.

Out in the city the subtle hints that had been dropped to Boris and the king's nephew as well as a few others, were doing their work quite well. Ne'ebo had the list and would add or subtract from it as needed but for now the men selected where smouldering in their wrath. Ne'ebo had found a skilled but underestimated competitor in tomorrow's mace, one Sir Kay, named after Authur's foster brother, who had been eyeing a lovely young maiden in the stands. Ne'ebo had pointed out that a man who performed well, even if he did not win an event would likely go far in her eyes. Kay was a brash and slightly arrogant young man but he had witnessed the superior skill of the other nights, including Ne'ebo, who would be taking part of the mace competition and he had begun to feel concerned when Ne'ebo pointed this out. Now his eyes were filled with glory. perhaps he could not win but eh would surely be able to impress the maid and perhaps do something that would gain him fame and recognition as he improved his abilities.

Another young man, a Sir Walter Perry of Ireland was not competing in the mace but he would be shooting the bow and arrow that was to be going on at the same time as the mace. He was a remarkable shot but he lacked confidence thus had shot badly though Ne'ebo had seen something i the young man. he had gone to him and spoken kindly and had watched as Walter had shot a few tat did not count but they were perfect shots. Ne'ebo had laughed and proclaimed he was glad he would not be competing int he bow and arrows on the first day as eh would be busy in the mace. Walter's eyes gleamed. Without Ne'ebo int he way he could have Champion of the day if he shot well. Ne'ebo nodded.and said. "I wish you luck good sir." and moved off to sow other seeds.

He had spotted a massive brute of a man, who would be in the mace with him and by his sigil knew he was here fighting for one of the seven lords though not which one at the time. The beast of man, Sir Jarn of the Black Mountains, which no one had a clue where they were, was a cruel man, as evidenced by his beating of a small page who had brought him a cup he did not like. Ne'ebo had stopped the beating by simply yanking Jarn's arm around rather painfully but not actually damaging him. "Why don't you pick on someone your own size." He had smiled as Jarn had gone off to request battle with Ne'ebo as soon as possible. He had spotted others he could speak to but as he had been doing this during the squires performances, his time was limited and when they finished he had to leave his fellow knights alone. Still he felt confident and with luck he would be able to speak to the others at some point and help them realize their full potential. he had especial hope for the archers as he would not be shooting until the final day of archery, the last day before the joust officially began and thus he would be able to find the winners of the next six days before then. He smiled at what Tekono would have said. "you are fixing the tournament?!" "No My lord. Simply giving confidence to my opponents to make the fight more fun. I am going to win the tournament." Tekono would have laughed and nodded. Ne'ebo had surveyed the field smiling before following Elias back to Fenice's side then gone to the castle for dinner.
 
Fenice wondered if she’d said something wrong, he only smiled but moved away from her. When she looked up to find him towering above her she rose slipping from the stool. She had to tilt her head back to look him in the eye. She was ready for the kiss this time, moving into his arms as he cupped her cheek and pressed his lips to hers gently. Fenice lifted to her toes pressing herself to him as she felt herself melting. She felt his desire and longing, feeding into it and adding her own, she needed him. The realization scared her and thrilled her all in the same instant.

A relief flooded her soul at the thought of freedom from the lords, something that lifted her spirit and made her soar in his arms. When the moment flowed away from them and came to a natural end, she sighed and floated where he led. Mathilde’s tired face peered out at them, Fenice pressed closer to Ne’ebo, not wanting to leave him. “No… Ne’ebo…” She whispered but the kiss to her cheek told her she needed her sleep as much as he. Watching him go she worried her lower lip, things would now be that much harder.

Ignoring Mathilde’s expectant gaze the female stripped and stepped into the warm tub of water and began washing. Her body burned but the heat wasn’t overcoming her, it only made her want to figure out what it was, explore it more. But she knew now wasn’t the time to explore such things, once they were married they would have plenty of time. She smiled widely at the knowledge of their marriage; a sobering thought was the possibility of him losing or becoming hurt. She shuddered and stepped from the tub. Drying off she dressed for bed and slept soundly for the first time in ages.

Awakening she smiled and stretched. She dressed herself and Mathilde fixed her hair. The dark blue velvet gown she wore today brought out the color in her eyes. She ate breakfast picking at the food and simply waiting for Ne’ebo. Never seeing him, she simply piddled about until it was time for the knights to go to the lists. Excitedly she had to keep her steps slow in order to not bring suspicion upon herself. She stopped and retrieved the small family, Trala’s hand in hers the entire way. The archbishop helped them upon the dais where they took their seats.

Her eyes flew over the terrain, meeting upon Ne’ebo’s tall form, a sigh of relief leaving her lips. She fought the urge to run to him and simply stayed put, he was right perhaps laying low was the best for them. She watched the knights though her eyes barely left Ne’ebo’s form, straying only for a moment here or there. Trala was a great breath of fresh air, providing a source of laughter when needed and a distraction from the unease she felt welling up inside her.

Once the warm up had ended, she watched Ne’ebo approach with her father. A smile brightened up her face as she waved to her father. She felt the heat rise up in her as she felt the warmth of the knight’s body through her dress. She wrapped her arm around her father’s and walked beside them to the table. Her stomach rumbled and she felt her appetite welling, having only picked at breakfast this meal was welcome. She sat beside Ne’ebo her father on the otherside of him and the archbishop after that. Mathilde continued to yawn as she served the princess.

“Perhaps our game of chess kept you up too late Mathilde, too much excitement for you to handle.” She smiled up at her maid and turned her attention to the young archer at her side. “You shot well in practice today, so steady and always hitting the middle of the target. Have you trained long Sir Perry?” Her blue eyes lit upon him merrily. The lords glared in Ne'ebo's direction, whispering amongst themselves. Several maidens steadied their gaze upon him as well, some giggling and others simply blushing. Fenice knew that his plan was slowly taking affect, but to what extent. Sparing him a glance she smiled softly.
 
Ne'ebo had woken just at dawn though he wanted to see Fenice he knew he must attend to business first. he gathered his things put on his armor checking everything carefully before putting it o then afterwards as well. No one had tampered but he knew better than to grow complacent. Instead of eating with the royals he went to the lists and had breakfast with Kay and William. Both young men were very nervous and had happened to sit by each other as they at. Ne'ebo had startled them when he sat down with a "Good morning." and a bright smile. Unable to resist the draw of the man they smiled back and said. "Good morn Sir Hargik." Ne'ebo sniffed and waved it away. "My friends call me Ne'ebo.. and we are friends yes?" They nodded and he smiled raising his glass of milk at him. They tilted their heads at that and Kay asked, "Sir...Ne'ebo do you not partake of wine?" Ne'ebo shook is head. "Narry a drop." His [powerful arms and his performance yesterday weighed heavily on the young men's minds and they immediately asked for water and milk and their wine removed. Ne'ebo smiled and started eating ravenously. they both also followed this example as Ne'ebo pointed at Kay. "You know your first opponent sir..whatisname over there?" Kay turned to see Sir Ewing, a man notorious for his skill with the mace. Kay quavered but Ne'ebo smirked. "he has no sight in his left eye. Shouldn't even be competing. he risks himself. You know he has sveen children? Such a man. Sir Ewing!!" Ewing came over and grunted, "What?" "Sir Ewing my friends and I had a question."

Ewing kept the threee ion sight of his right eye, though the left looked perfect. Kay began to doubt it as Ne'ebo asked him. "Did you wife come with you sir? and your children?" "yes what of it?" Ewing began to bristle but Ne'ebo held up his hands coothingly. "Forgive me sir but i simply wondered where they would be sitting. Sir Kay tells me your wife is a beauty beyond compare and your children are little angels." Ewing, though a gruff man had a weakness. His family. he smiled and sat with the four younger men his squire bringing his food over. "Why yes she is Sir Ne'ebo. And so are my children...Siir Kay..oh yes my Sister's step nephew aren't you?" Kay nodded a bit shakily but answered quickly. "Yes Sir Ewing. Another fine lady." Ewing barked laughter. "Nonsense. Elsa is a trifling harpy." Kay blushed not saying anything. "Not to worry lad I'll make sure she knows i said it ot you." Kay nodded and Ewing laughed again. "i hear i face you first today." Kay nodded again. "yes Sir Ewing." Ewing chuckled. "Sorry lad but I am goign to beat you..You know I remember..." As Ewing began to tell them about a past tournament where eh had knocked a knight's helm clean off, a maid stumbles. Ewing's left eye is looking right at her but he does not react as she falls against him interrupting the story. "Gods damn woman what are you doing!!" he bellowed. "my lord the pres.... i stumbled.." "Why I..." Ne'ebo gently pulled the girl away. "It was an innocent mistake Sir Ewing the girl meant no harm. " Ewing grunted nodded and rose leaving the table. Ne'ebo gave the girl a coin and sent her on her way Winking at Kay who realized the truth of Ne'ebo's information and resumed his meal thinking. He did not know that Ne'ebo and the Archbishop had already bet quite a bit on the young man and the money was to be sent to the crown . He was slated to get smashed by Ewing but if he won they would collect a tidy sum.

William was literally shaking until Ne'ebo sat with him and Kay and introduced the young men. now he was slowly relaxing though Sir Ewing had shook him up a bit but both Ne'ebo and Kay were sure he would do quite well and told him so repeatedly. After hearing about Sir Ewing, Perry hoped for a tip like that but realized as he could not face his opponents directly They would not help him. Ne'ebo studied both young men ruminating on their issues and spoke low. "You will not speak to anyone about Sir Ewing's disadvantage? It would be dishonorable..." Ne'ebo could be forgiven as he had merely been making a statement of observation but hey would be spreading the man's weakness and they instantly and sincerely assured Ne'ebo they would never tell a soul. "Very good. Thank you gents. William are you not going to practice? Walk with me a moment." Both men shook Kay's hand, Ne'ebo noting the strength of the grip, then they went out leaving their dishes behind as requested by the mistress of the tent. Once outside they went to the practice area where they were alone.

"William I tell you I love mornings like this. nice and crisp. Lets one focus. Forget everything and aim for the mark." William caught the statement and smiled. "is this an archery lesson..ne'ebo?" Ne'ebo smirked. "From what i saw you could teach me.. No. just a statement. You know i heard Sir Quentin praise your shooting yesterday? the practice shots i mean?" Sir Quentin was the undisputed archery master of all England. He had won the crown every year since he was seventeen which had been more than thirty years ago. "Ah here he comes now! Sir Quentin!" Quentin was a tall thin man with white hair and mustaches but with sky blue eyes seemed able to pierce even armor. "Hullo Sir Hargik. Come to practice? Why Sir perry. i had hoped to see you. You know you are a remarkable shot? Makes me wish I had practiced more at your age...shall we have a round gents?" His thick Scottish burr made both men smile but they agreed.

They took their bows, notched arrows and as one released. Each man hit the bulls eyes at precisely the same time. "By Jove that is the most remarkable thing i have every seen!" Quentin proclaimed and the three knights went to the target where the flower of their arrow sat proudly. Ne'ebo smiled. "Truly remarkable sir Quentin. i believe Sir perry is going to be quite the trouble in this competition." Quentin nodded. "I do believe you are right." He clapped William on the shoulder. "William my boy I do hope you will forgive an old man for saying this. But I fear you will be taking the crown this year. Now too be fair i will try to prevent that but I don't like my chances." With that he turned to speak to a friend and Ne'ebo smiled. "My boy I think you can take him."

Later as the royal's arrived Ne'ebo had eyes only for Fenice. his lips still tingled a bit from their kisses and he longed for more but if he was to have her the way he wanted her the lords had to go down first. After the announcements the tournament began. William shot masterfully. He made perfects on the line shots, buried arrows in every moving target, and had shot so perfectly he had broken off his opponent's arrows in the group shoot. in the final tally he had edged out Sir Quentin by seven points. He had grinned as Kay and Ne'ebo, as well as others including Sir Quentin congratulated him and unknown to him Ne'ebo, the Archbishop, and the king won a large amount of money on the boy's excellent shooting.

Sir Kay had a bit rougher time. Sir Ewing may have been blind in one eye but he was no less dangerous and he protected his left side fiercely. Kay had managed to outsmart and outmove him however and when Ewing had gone for a clubbing blow that came down with all his strength, Kay had dodged around his right side and felled him with a resounding crack on the back of the head then scored ten quick points on the fallen Ewing. Afterwards he helped Ewing up who grunted, "Well that's me done until the joust. Well done boy." Then he raised Kay's arm in triumph to the man's surprise but jubilation, his eyes falling on the maiden he had become infatuated with and his heart only beat the harder to see her applauding as well. His next twelve opponents went down as well though the matches were a blur. He was in the finals!! And not even hurt! But how? Ne'ebo came to him and said. "My boy to fight for love is a great honor. I worry for my safety should we face off." The money made betting on Kay was enormous and now that he was in the finals they merely had to see who he would face Jarn or Ne'ebo.

Jarn, still in a rage, had brutalized his way to the semi finals much to the delight of his lord Edwin Tallow, an older man who held quite the marker over the King's head but also was a gifted politician and diplomat making him very dangerous. Ne'ebo on the other hand had fought well but like Kay helped his opponents back up once they lost and even offered advice to them when available. His victories lined up quickly and soon it was time for Jarn. Jarn was making a menace of himself when Ne'ebo beat his last opponent and as he helped the disgruntled but polite man up Jarn had made a number of very inflammatory remarks about Africa and Japan, Ne'ebo himself and the Princess Fenice. Ne'ebo had smiled and instead of taking the break offered pointed the mace at Jarn and said. "Get in here you blundering bullock."

Jarn had obeyed happily entering the ring quickly. Once the match began Jarn had rushed Ne'ebo expecting him to flee. But he had not. he had held the mace out and punched it forward like a sword smashing it right into Jarn's helm, not hurting him but scoring. One. Jarn was momentarily dazed at the jolt to his entire body through his neck and could not block as Ne'ebo spun around him striking in succession scoring. Two. three. Four. The crowd began to murmur. Ne'ebo's speed was impossible. He followed these up with another two blows to Jarn's arms knocking them down then a third to his knee sending Jarn to kneel on the dirt.Five. Six. Seven!! Jarn began to rise when Ne'ebo cracked him a hard one across the chest putting him back on his knees. "For my homelands." Eight. "Jarn grunted and still tried to rise btu Ne'ebo cracked him across the back. "For me." Nine. Jarn coughed but still tried to rise. Ne'ebo took a step and swung with all his might the mace shattering with the force across Jarn's helmed face. Jarn lifted off the ground then fell on the ring logs breaking them under his weight. Ten. Ne'ebo moved till he straddled the larger man and removed his own helm then pushing the shattered helm off Jarn with his broken mace then squatted. "And that was for the lovely Princess Fenice. If you ever say a word against her again i will kill you." He stood and walked away as Jarn was dragged to the hospital tent.

Kay was afraid after this but Ne'ebo did not destroy him. he did beat Kay but Kay actually struck Ne'ebo three times. As Ne'ebo was given the victor's purse he smiled shook his head and gave it to Kay. "No. The true champion of the mace. a man of honor and dignity." Then raised the younger man's hands to the wild cheers of the crowd and walked him to the dais where Perry was already waiting. Ne'ebo smiled at the princess and her words to Perry and elbowed both men as they looked at the maiden, Kay at his beauty and Perry at the several who were evening him. They both jumped when they were invited to dinner with the king and princess at the castle because of a suggestion Kay's beauty was invited as well as was one of the loveliest of Perry's admirers. Kissing the Princess's hand in turn the young men left the dais to congratulate each as Ne'ebo lifted the unkissed hand and kissed it. "For you my Princess." He turned to got hen stopped. "Oh Mathilde. I believe you owe me some money?" Mathilde grunted and handed him two ducats which he gave to the princess. "A gift milady. from your servant." He smiled and walked away as Mathilde grumbled and admitted. "i bet he couldn't break his mace over Jarn's head." To Elias' immense enjoyment before he called for the day's ending and for everyone to enjoy themselves before tomorrow where the bow competition would continue and the axe competition would take place. Elias whispered to his daughter. "I made two hundred thousand ducats today!!" While this would not pay off even a single lord, Ne'ebo's and the archbishops winnings had not yet been counted and it was only the first day. The man was making good on his plan.
 
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