Queen Of Knights by David Wind Page B

respect .
    A few m i nutes later Gwendolyn rose and bid everyone good-night, purposely avoiding a too long look into Miles’s face.  When she bowed before Richard again, she smiled.  “Thank you, Sire,” she whispered.
    Richard cupped her chin with his calloused fingers and made her look him in the eye .  “You have much faith in his ability.”
    “He is your knight , is he not?” she responded as she stood and raised herself to her full height and looked King Richard level in the eyes.
    “Not since the moment he met you,” Richard conceded with a barking laugh.

Chapter Three
    THE banquet hall was silent as Miles glanced around.  It was after midnight and all but three of the knights had gone to their chambers; the three who remained were sleeping face down on the table, their squires asleep in a far corner.  Richard had left the table an hour earlier, which allowed anyone who wanted sleep to depart.
    Sir Hughes had stayed for another half hour, talking earnestly with Miles.  Miles, in the short time he’d spent in conversation with Hughes, had found him a likable man.  Although his mannerisms were refined, and he bore himself proudly, Miles also saw the old Duke’s need to know his lands would go to the right heirs.
    He had as much as admitted that he’d not wanted the match between Gwendolyn and Morgan, and had even let slip that he had, once Gwendolyn had grown to her full height, despaired of ever finding someone who would marry her.
    Miles reasoned that that was the very reason for Gwendolyn’s early betrothal to Morgan.  This knowledge eased his mind even more.  He knew of Morgan by reputation as a fierce, but uncouth fighter, and he did not foresee any problem with the joust.
    “Sir Miles?” called Arthur.  Miles turned to see the anxious face of his squire standing above him.
    “You have found out?” he asked.  “I know her room.”
    “Take me there,” Miles whispered.  He watched his young squire glance at the sleeping knights.  “They are in another world . ”
    Arthur led Miles toward the stairs.  Ascending the steps, Miles heard the varied sounds of the sleeping castle : breezes filtering through openings in the stonework, tapers sputtering, and, although it was still night, the faint sounds of the scullery servants preparing for the large morning meal .
    When they reached the top of the stairs, Arthur turned down a torch-lit hallway and motioned for Miles to follow.  Miles glanced at the walls and took in the tapestries covering the windows and door openings .  They were all of fine workmanship, depicting many scenes of tourneys.  He wondered if Gwendolyn’s fingers had wrought any of these patterns .
    The castle was not old by Saxon standards, perhaps a hundred years, if that .  But the construction was solid, and the design of the castle denied its Norman heritage.
    Until the Norman invasion, the homes of English nobility had been built of wood.  Castles were no more than a large grouping of homes, defended by a high wooden fence.  But, with the conquering of the Saxons came the Norman builders to show the English the benefits of stone .
    No more did entire families die needlessly in the fires that had been as common as the deer in the forest.  No more did each member of a family have to live in a separate dwelling within the compound .  With stone buildings came security, security against fire, and security of sorts against attacks .  But, Mile s thought as he traversed the hallway in his squire’s wake, although the Normans had given them stone engineering, the true Saxon within each of them refused to follow the de s igns of the Norman castles.  Here, as in Radstock, they clung to the old Saxon ways.  The lord and lady of the castle lived in one wing, and the other family members in another.  Not everyone in England adhered to this, but Miles was glad that Kildrake followed the older traditions .
    In Kildrake, the heart of the castle was its great hall, and