Court of Swans, page 1
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Family Tree
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Epilogue
Discussion Questions
Acknowledgments
Excerpt from The Golden Braid: Chapter One
About the Author
Praise for Melanie Dickerson
Other Books by Melanie Dickerson
Copyright
Family Tree
One
Summer 1378
Delia’s stomach felt sick as she watched her father marry Parnella. The lady who would be the new Lady Dericott was much closer to Delia’s age of fifteen than to her father’s.
Someone tapped Delia’s arm. She turned and shook her head at her brother Berenger. He smiled and winked.
One good thing was that her brothers had all been allowed to come home for the wedding. Her older brothers, Edwin, Gerard, and Berenger, stood around her like a bulwark—although a temporary one, as they’d soon be returning to their training—while her younger brothers, Merek, Charles, David, and little Roland, gathered nearby in a rare show of quiet solemnity.
When the wedding was over, they all walked through the village from the church back to Dericott Castle. Parnella held her new husband’s arm with one hand and her skirt with the other to keep it above the dust of the road. Her head was so high Delia wondered if she could see anything besides the sky overhead.
Mother had died seven years earlier, and though Delia missed her, she had enjoyed the attention of the servants, and she was very close to her brothers. Or at least she had been until a year ago, when Roland was sent away to train as a knight at the age of six, like all her other brothers. Now Delia would have a stepmother in the house and no siblings with whom to commiserate.
By the time they reached the castle, her brothers were restless and had begun teasing each other. Her new stepmother had glanced back at them once, her eyes narrowed and her lips pressed together. Delia tried to get her brothers’ attention and held her finger to her lips to remind them to behave, at least until they reached home.
In front of the castle, villagers were singing and waving ribbons tied to sticks and carrying cakes as gifts to the newly wedded couple. Parnella barely glanced at the villagers as they offered wedding cakes. They were poor farmers or villeins belonging to Dericott land, and the cakes were gifts they baked themselves. Delia thanked each one, letting them give her the cakes, stacking one on top of the other. The servants took them as she entered Dericott Castle.
Delia and her brothers waited for Father and Parnella to begin the wedding feast in the Great Hall. Her brothers started a mock sword fight using sticks.
Parnella entered and stood near Delia but refused to meet her gaze. Father leaned toward Parnella and said something, then left.
As he strode away, Parnella’s attention turned to Delia’s brothers. None of them seemed to have noticed she was even in the room. They were yelling and laughing and bragging about who was the better swordsman as they parried and thrusted with their sticks. Parnella’s face twisted into a scowl.
Parnella said not a word, only stared straight ahead. But when Father came back, she pointed toward the brothers, who were still fighting, and cried out, “Look at how they are trying to intimidate me with their violence!”
Father’s eyes went wide. “Stop that fighting this moment! Can you not see you are frightening Lady Dericott?”
“They knew they were upsetting me, yet they persisted.” Parnella took hold of Father’s arm, cowering behind him. “This is supposed to be a happy day for me. Please, won’t you send them away?”
Father’s mouth fell open. Delia and her brothers exchanged wondering glances.
“And the girl too. All she does is stare at me. I know she is thinking malicious thoughts toward me.”
She could only be referring to Delia. Her father’s expression was a mix of perplexity and irritation.
“They will be gone soon, back to the households where they’re being trained as knights.”
“I don’t care! It is my wedding day. May I not have some joy and peace on my wedding day?”
“I am sure my brothers and I meant no harm,” Delia said as Roland and David moved closer to her.
Parnella glared at Delia and made a contemptuous sound in her throat.
“Do not worry,” Father said to his new wife. “They shall cease. Let us all go to the Great Hall for the feast.”
In the Great Hall, Delia and her brothers began talking quietly among themselves. They were quite subdued after their new stepmother’s outburst. Indeed, Delia felt sick to her stomach every time she thought about Parnella’s words. How could they show the woman they meant her no harm?
But as the servants brought out more and more elaborate foods, and as their new stepmother paid them no attention, Delia’s brothers began to talk in louder and livelier tones. Delia thought to warn them not to get too boisterous, but Gerard was in the middle of telling a story and she did not want to interrupt him.
“Then the horse stumbled and Sir Bollivet fell forward, right into the muddy stream.”
Her brothers all burst out laughing, Charles laughing the loudest and slapping his knee in merriment.
“What are you boys talking about?” Father demanded in a loud voice.
“Telling stories about our training,” Edwin said.
Father looked so angry, Delia spoke up. “They aren’t doing anything wrong, Father. Only telling funny stories.”
“They were laughing at me!” Parnella’s face was cold, her eyes intense and dark.
Her father talked in hushed tones, leaning his head toward his new wife, but she interrupted him. “So you will let them ridicule and intimidate me?”
“Of course not. I—”
“Then send them to their rooms. How can you allow it? Insulted and ridiculed . . .”
“Go to your rooms, all of you.” Father’s face was flushed, and not from the wine. “I am ashamed of you for treating your new mother thusly.”
Delia and her brothers stood up and slowly walked toward the doorway of the Great Hall.
“No one was laughing at you,” Merek said, looking directly at Parnella, his voice clear and confident.
“Oh!” Parnella drew back as if he’d struck her. Father glared at Merek.
When they were all out in the corridor and heading for the stairs, Berenger said, “I cannot believe that woman could be so audacious.”
“It makes me worry for you, Delia,” Edwin said, his eyes soft but intent on her.
“No, don’t worry.” Delia tried to look confident and reassuring. “I will win her over. She will understand that we have no grudge against her and do not intend to harm her. I’ll just have to be sensitive to her feeling like an outsider.”
“Sensitive? Even if you kissed her feet you could not please that woman,” Gerard said.
Merek snorted. “If she bothers you, Delia, I’ll come back and stand up for you. I’ll tell Father he can’t let that woman treat you poorly.”
“She certainly doesn’t seem very sensible,” Berenger added.
Her younger brothers looked confused and sad.
“Don’t worry.” Delia bent to hug Roland. “All will be well.”
Gerard and Berenger went to the kitchen while the rest of them gathered in Edwin’s room. Gerard and Berenger came back with roast pheasant and sweet fruit pasties. They all ate and talked and laughed—though quietly.
“I am worried about leaving you here with that woman,” Edwin said.
“I am sure I will be well.” But as soon as she said the words, she realized she was not truly sure at all.
Delia hugged all her brothers that night, surprised that none of them protested or groaned in reluctance at her show of affection.
“Write to us, or send a servant, if you need us,” Gerard said.
“Yes, we will take care of you,” Berenger said.
“Write often about how you are faring,” Edwin added.
If only they could stay home longer. But perhaps with them gone it would be easier to convince Parnella that any evil intention toward her from Delia or her brothers was completely imagined. And then all would be harmonious between them.
* * *
Almost three years later, Spring 1381
Delia listened through the crack in her stepmother’s bedchamber door.
“You must do something,” Parnella was saying. “As it is now, our son will inherit nothing. Those selfish sons of your first wife will treat him badly when we are both dead and cold in the ground. His life will not be worth living. They’ll throw him out to starve.”
Delia strained to hear how her father responded, but his voice was too low.
“You must! You are the Earl of Dericott. You can change it.”
“I cannot change the laws of England. The king . . .”
Delia could not hear the rest.
Surely Father wouldn’t listen to th
And there was the matter of her half brother, Cedric. It was strange how Parnella guarded her baby. He was four months old, yet Delia rarely saw him. Parnella kept Cedric in her own bedchamber, with a nursemaid to watch over him. Delia longed to help take care of the child, to hold him and see him smile up at her. But when Edwin had come to visit and picked up the baby, Parnella actually screamed, as if Edwin were trying to harm the baby or steal him away. She snatched Cedric out of his hands and cried, “You are not to touch him! Not ever!”
Delia did her best to keep out of their way.
When she heard movement on the other side of the door, Delia hurried away before she was caught eavesdropping.
Lately Delia had been having a strange feeling of foreboding. She had tried very hard in the beginning to reassure her stepmother that no one wished her ill. In spite of that, her stepmother had treated her with contempt and criticism, to the point that Delia gave up trying to win her over.
These past few weeks her icy stares seemed bolder, and she often ceased speaking when Delia came near.
The priest would probably tell her to pray against any evil that might try to come against her family. He might tell her to love her stepmother more, for love covers a multitude of sins. And Delia had tried to do both those things, but she could not rid herself of this uneasy feeling.
* * *
Six months later, late Autumn 1381
Delia hadn't been able to get the sight of her father's lifeless body out of her mind. He'd been dead for two weeks now.
She often thought of the conversation she’d overheard between her father and stepmother and the premonition of danger it had given her. When Wat Tyler’s Rebellion began not long after, she’d assumed that was the reason for her unease. But after her father’s fatal fall from his horse . . . the uneasy feeling was a constant current crashing over her.
At least her brothers had all been allowed to return home to mourn their father’s death. She had seen them only occasionally, mostly on holy feast days, though she wrote to them often while they were away. Edwin and Gerard had already been knighted and were serving as guards at one of the king’s castles. But Edwin would not return to his knighthood duties, now that he was the new Earl of Dericott.
Delia ran down the stairs of Dericott Castle, out the door, and the short way to the stable. In the distance she saw Gerard helping twelve-year-old David practice his archery skills. She smiled at how patient Gerard looked, showing David how to draw the string.
Although Delia was still mourning her father, she was glad to have all her brothers home, and Edwin would be staying.
Delia had been meaning to speak to Edwin about their stepmother’s fears that her brothers would not care for their half brother. Of course, Edwin would never mistreat the child, but she wanted to tell him to be sensitive of his stepmother’s feelings. Even though her stepmother had not had a good relationship with Delia or her brothers, she hoped Parnella would eventually learn she could trust them. Perhaps now that she had a child of her own she would be kinder to them.
Delia pushed away thoughts of her stepmother and drew in a long, contented breath at how good it felt to be with her brothers again.
The tiny, high-pitched sound of puppies drew her attention, and she headed toward the stable and Flora, her father’s favorite hunting dog.
Flora lay in the corner of the stable in the bed Delia had made for her of old rags and blankets. Her puppies were piled around her, most of them asleep. Delia knelt on the ground beside ten-year-old Roland, who was holding a puppy in his lap. One of them was mewling and crawling around, so she picked it up.
Delia cuddled the pup to her cheek. Its fur was soft and warm in the cool autumn air.
Roland cradled the light-colored puppy against his chest. “This one is the sweetest. Look. She doesn’t mind me holding her on her back, like a baby.”
“She can sense that you are gentle and wouldn’t hurt her.” Delia smiled. Mother had died soon after Roland was born, but Delia liked to think she was carrying on for her, at least with her younger brothers. Thankfully, none of her brothers were brutish or unkind. They’d all inherited Mother’s qualities of gentleness and strength, and the younger ones allowed her to tell them to put on an extra cloak or hood to keep warm and even welcomed her hugs and kisses—as long as their older brothers weren’t watching.
Edwin came walking up behind them. Hearing people address him as Lord Dericott was strange, but Delia was so happy he would be home with her now. Edwin would enjoy his new duties and would have more time for reading and learning languages, which he enjoyed almost as much as he enjoyed training to be a knight. He was quiet but could be outspoken against injustice. She’d known him to get furious about unfair treatment he’d witnessed and take action to make it right.
He was only twenty-two years old, but he would be a good landlord for those living in Dericott.
“A healthy litter. All seven still thriving?”
“Yes, and this one is mine, Edwin. I want to name her.” Roland held up the puppy he had been cradling.
“Very well.” Edwin picked up the black one with a gray ear who had just started crawling over his littermates and waking them up. Edwin held the puppy in one hand and stroked its fur with the other. “This is a lively one.”
“There are only seven puppies,” Roland said, snuggling his puppy to his chest again. “But there are eight of us, if you include Delia.”
“Thanks for including me.” Delia winked to soften her sarcastic tone.
“Not enough to go around,” Roland continued. “So someone will not get to name a puppy.”
“I don’t mind giving up my rights to one,” Edwin said.
Roland glanced up at Edwin. “Perhaps Merek won’t mind not getting to name a puppy. I don’t recall seeing him out here petting them.”
Roland, ever the peacemaker. Merek was, Roland seemed to think, the least likely of his brothers to care about naming a puppy. And he was probably right. Merek was two years younger than Delia’s eighteen years, but he was commanding and hated when she tried to take care of him.
Edwin suddenly lifted his head, staring in the direction of the road that ran past Dericott Castle. He put the puppy beside its mother and stood to his full height.
“What is it?” Roland asked.
“Sounds like horses.”
A lot of horses. She and Roland also replaced their puppies, laying them against their mother’s belly, and hurried up the slight incline toward their home.
Delia glanced down at her dress. Normally, if they were expecting guests, Delia would be wearing one of her fine gowns, the brightly colored silk ones with embroidery of gold and silver thread. But today, as on most days, she wore one of her older, plainer frocks for taking walks in the woods and playing with puppies and running footraces with her brothers. Her hair was uncovered, not even plaited or bound, hanging in loose curls down her back and over her shoulders, “like a common serving wench,” her stepmother had once said with a scornful twisting of her lips.
Perhaps Delia should not show herself until she knew what manner of guests she would encounter. The horses’ hooves were headed toward them, having turned onto the lane that led to the castle instead of continuing down the road.
Edwin reached the front of the three-story castle made of light-colored stone, its towers stretching up another level or two. He stood in front of the door as Delia watched from around the corner.
A whole company of soldiers galloped into view, emerging from the tree-crowded lane. Edwin narrowed his eyes and stood with his shoulders tensed.
Where were the guards? There was always at least one or two of them around. And why did Edwin have that angry look on his face? Did he know why these men were here?
The soldiers were all wearing gambesons and their swords were strapped to their bodies in ready reach. They galloped right up to Edwin before slowing their horses to a halt.
Several of the soldiers got down off their mounts while the one in the lead, who appeared to be the captain, spoke down to Edwin from atop his horse.
