Roland called out in synchronization with their movements. “The last three half-steps I took to the rear were Parry, Riposte, and Parry. Could you see it in my feet, Melesinda?”

Melesinda was all ears and eyes. “Yes! I can see what you mean now!” she answered enthusiastically.

Guyferros noticed that Alda had remained silent. “And Alda; what about you?” he called out as the two continued to duel.

“It’s not the advancing and retreating I have trouble with. What I want to know is what the feints and attacks are in Sept and Huite!”

Roland responded. “All in good time, my love! But first, help Melesinda master her feet!” He raised his hand while catching his breath and exclaimed, “Enough, Guy!”

As the two quit and turned to the girls, who remained seated but most attentive and ready to try again, Roland shook his head and commented. “I’m still not sure this was such a good idea.”

Somewhat indignant, Alda challenged him. “And why not?”

Roland stepped forth, knelt and took her hand. “It’s only that I’m afraid we’ll teach you just enough to give you false confidence and get you hurt.”

Alda leaned forward, kissed him on the nose and grinned. “Then you’re just going to have to keep at it ’til you’re satisfied it’s safe enough to let us out on the road alone!”

Roland pursed his lips and knitted his brows. “I don’t know.”

Melesinda was having none of it. “You’re the ones who said we had to learn how to take care of ourselves if we were going to continue to insist on following you around! At first, I was reluctant like Alda. But now, I think it’s a brilliant idea!”

“Me too!” exclaimed Alda.

Guyferros folded his arms and nodded. “So do I! It’s painfully obvious, that as soon as we’re out of your sight, the two of you are going to find a way to attract trouble whether we like it or not!”

Melesinda was unrepentant. “So? If it wasn’t for the two of us, Roland would still be in Carcassonne playing chess with Mitaine!” she stated smugly, arms folded and nose in the air.

Guyferros chuckled. “More’s the pity! He’d be there and none of us would be here!”

Alda stood and pulled Roland up from his knee. She smiled and kissed his cheek, then looked into his eyes and smiled again. “Yes; and my love and I would still be separated by hundreds of leagues and endless time.”

Roland took both her hands in his and replied with the most earnest sincerity. “I’m not sorry you’re both here with us, sweetheart. A maid should have the right to go wherever she wants when she wants to. And, at the very least, should be given the knowledge of how to protect herself if accosted when alone on the road, just as any man is.”

She recognized how heartfelt his words were and interpreted them as yet another declaration of his deep respect and love for her. She smiled and embraced him, then hugged him exclaiming, “I love you so much!” Then she stepped back and frowned. “But I’m afraid most men don’t share your opinion.”

He took her hands in his again. “You know you’re the light of my life. I’ve told and shown you in every way I can think of. I want you to know the sword’s use better than I do if that’s possible. If you can, I won’t feel jealous, or threatened, or offended. The more proficient you are with it, the safer you’ll be.” He paused and looked deep into her eyes. “That’s all I care about.”

His words made her heart beat fast and she shivered as she felt the heat pulsing in parts of her body over which he, not she, seemed always to have complete control. She felt herself growing limp and light-headed. Smiling she quickly sat herself back down.

Melesinda, as usual, was wide-eyed and looked to her husband. “Is that why you want me to master the sword, Guy?” she asked excitedly.

The question startled Guyferros. Obviously rattled, he blurted, “Absolutely!” There was a short silence during which he realized that due to the quickness of his answer, his young wife remained unconvinced. “What other reason could I possibly have?” he palliated with an over-emphasized shrugging of shoulders.

The rhetorical nature of his follow-up question did the trick. Melesinda smiled her approval. With youthful verve, ( by now, one of her signature traits) she grabbed and kissed him on the cheek before exclaiming, “Oh, Guy! I’m loving you more every day that we’re in captivity!”

Guyferros looked to Roland while Melesinda still had him in her embrace and shot him a nervous smile as he rolled his eyes to heaven. It wasn’t that he wasn’t crazy about the princess. It was just that she was so much more demonstrative in public than he’d been brought up to be. Roland just smiled. So did Alda. They understood.

Meanwhile, that same morning found Floripas seated in front of a needlepoint frame in the bedchamber of her private quarters. She was trying to concentrate on the pattern she was putting into the linen fabric while conversing with Berenger.

“Father tells me you’re really serious about calling on me with an eye towards wedlock.”

“Yes?” Berenger answered, unable to yet determine her point.

“And you didn’t tell him that, simply to bide time for your companions?”

Her question was revealing. He suddenly realized, that in spite of her incomparably exotic beauty and station, (if the truth be known) she somehow had acquired a low opinion of herself and was inexplicably insecure.

“My dear, I’m a man of honor, not to mention, a knight of the realm. I could never do such a thing at the expense of any woman; least of all, you!”

She left her needle imbedded in the fabric and spun around on her stool. Her face was twisted with distress. “Oh, God, Count! Please don’t misunderstand me! It’s just that I’ve never had any wish I’ve ever made in life come true; and I’ve never won first prize for anything!”

Berenger walked over to her, placed a hand to the side of her cheek, smiled and looked deep into her eyes. “Then, what your father told me’s true? You’d really have me for a husband?”

She took hold of the hand on her cheek and kept hold of it as she looked away casting her eyes to the floor. “Heaven help me! I’m afraid to say it out loud for fear you’ll run away!” she lamented.

He pulled her back around by the hand she was still hanging onto and placed his other hand gently to her other cheek while dropping to one knee to be at eye level. “You needn’t worry about that.” he said softly. Wild horses couldn’t drag me away from you now!”

He knew his words were only a careworn cliché. He saw she was smiling politely and remaining silent. Her reaction compelled him to add some additional detail in order to more thoroughly convince her of the unique status she occupied in his heart.

“Floripas, I’ve traveled the world over for years, in hopes God or the fates would finally see fit to place across my path the girl of my dreams. Frankly, I’d pretty much given up hope of it ever happening some time ago. Then, just when it seemed my fate was sealed, you came along.”

Floripas had closed her eyes to feel his words, which were washing over her soul like a warm summer rain. “Really?”

“That day I heard you crying out in the forest, something in your voice made my heart jump. After I’d come upon you and looked upon your face for the first time, I was blinded by its light. You were naked. I remember.

Floripas blushed as she opened her eyes with a look of shame and embarrassment, only to notice that his eyes were now closed.

He continued. “But I can’t really even remember what you looked like because after looking away from your face, it was as if I’d been staring at the sun. All I could see were little suns everywhere! I knew then that you were the one God had finally sent from heaven just for me.”

He pulled both her hands to him and squeezed them to make her open her eyes and look into his. Then he said with the most sincere solemnity. “My dear, dear, dearest darling in all the world; I was coming back here to find you and take you home with me forever, (or die trying!) regardless of the circumstances!”

She fell from the stool to her knees, clutched Berenger with both arms, buried her face in his shoulder and burst into tears. “Oh, Berenger!” she sobbed. “It’s true! I’m in love with you; with all my heart!”

He chuckled softly. “And I most definitely am with you!” He held her back, looked at her face and smiled as he wiped away her tears. Then he kissed her long and deeply.

She would have continued to kiss him forever but he finally broke away and pulled her back to her feet as he stood. Then he sat her back on her stool and went back down on one knee all the while keeping hold of her hands with both of his. He smiled and looked back into her eyes. “Then does this mean you’ll have me for your husband?”

She smiled through puffy, tear-reddened eyes. “Of course, you silly fool!”

With that, he stood and pulled her back up from her stool, after which he took her in his arms again and kissed her as before, but even longer—much longer!

That same afternoon, Mitaine had finally managed to track down Charlois and the army. It looked the same as it had when she’d last seen it at Aspromonte except that now it was encamped along the western bank of the upper Rhine, halfway between Basel and Mulhouse.

As the little squadron of Moorish knights had appeared on the encampment’s periphery with an obvious Frankish maiden at its head, perimeter guards had moved quickly to halt their progress but kept their weapons at rest. They recognized that a group so small in number was no immediate threat and was more than likely in pursuit of some sort of peaceful agenda.

The guard furthest forward of the rest raised his hand. “Halt!” he shouted, (which they did), “Say your business in the king’s camp!”

Mitaine laughed. She was giddy with relief at finally having found them after searching the better part of the country for them over the previous five weeks. “I’m Mitaine, Countess of Burgundy and the king’s cousin! I bear with me a message from the knight I serve as page—Roland of the Breton Marches. It is for His Majesty only and is to be delivered into the hands of his person by myself alone!”

The guard had already recognized her from Aspromonte and grinned broadly. “Welcome, Countess!” He stepped briskly to one side and gave her a sweeping motion with his arm. “You may pass! The king’s tent is right on the river’s bank near the northern end of camp.”

Mitaine smiled and nodded as she led her escorts on. As the strange little contingent of their erstwhile enemy passed among them, the Franks stopped whatever they were about and stared with wonderment at their most recent antagonist’s apparent flagrant disregard for who and where they were. The Frankish warriors were, at once affronted, but at the same time, filled with curious fascination; anxious to know how and why Saracen Moors were brazenly roaming unescorted through their camp. However, quickly, each noticed in turn, that their leader was a Francaise and that therefore, whatever it was about must be official.

Ogier was hanging about outside the king’s big, red, war pavilion. He raised his hand to shade his eyes and squinted to make out who it was as they approached. A broad grin crept across his face upon recognizing the little page over whom he’d presided when the oath of fealty had been exchanged between herself and young Roland. He’d quickly grown very fond of the two and had been worried sick for their safety the past month, having feared the worst.

His face lit up as she reined her steed to a halt at his feet. He reached up to help her dismount. “Well, bless my soul!” he exclaimed joyously. “If it isn’t the best little page in all the land!”

Mitaine giggled as her feet touched the ground. “I love it when you exaggerate!” she teased.

Ogier was so delighted to see her that he forgot himself and briskly patted the sides of both her shoulders. “Who says I’m exaggerating? Welcome, Mitaine! What a grand surprise! And a happy one too, I’m sure, for your father!”

“Father! Is he close by?”

“Indeed, he is! He’s in counsel with the king, right this very minute through that door!” Only now did Ogier happen to look past Mitaine and notice that Roland was not among her party. “But say, where’s your knight?”

“That’s the reason I’m here.” was her cryptic reply.

“Is he all right?”

“I hope so. He sent me with a message for the king.”

Now anxious and not a little concerned, the noble Dane motioned her to follow. “Well, come on then child! Let’s see that he gets it straight away!”

The two passed quickly by the guards at the entry door and on into the great tent. It took a moment for their eyes to adjust from the brightness of the sunlight outside to the gloom within. Oil lamps gave off ample light to conduct council but still, it took the two a brief passage of time to recognize the others present.

The king’s high counselor, Lord Naimon, had been speaking and looked up; at first, annoyed at the interruption. Charlois stopped and looked over at the unannounced intruders with curious interest. Duke Richard knew his daughter from any angle or distance regardless of the light and smiled broadly.

“My liege!” exclaimed Ogier. “It’s my honor to announce the noblest page in all the land!” (Here, he was quite accurate.) “The Countess of Burgundy!”

The revelation was startling. Charlois grinned as he rose to his feet. “Well, saints be praised!”, he chortled. Then, looking to Duke Richard he pointed exuberantly, “Look who’s come to pay us a visit, Uncle!”

The Duke’s heart had already jumped at the unexpected sight of his daughter. He was overjoyed and at the same time immensely relieved to see her. Before he could respond, she was in his arms.

“Father!” she cried out joyfully, as she hugged and kissed him.

Tears welled in his eyes. He held her tight and hugged and kissed her back. “My dear, dear child! God has heard my prayers today!”

“And mine too!”, she replied

Almost immediately, he recognized something was amiss. Roland wasn’t with her. Holding his dear youngster at arms length, he queried her. “But where’s that knight of yours? Why didn’t he come on in with you?”

Mitaine’s demeanor sobered. “That’s why I’m here.”

The king’s heartbeat increased. He knew whatever had affected his nephew would also, by definition, have involved his daughter. Nagging dread knotted his stomach. He stepped up to the little page and demanded, “Now child, what’s this all about?”

Mitaine’s happy demeanor changed immediately. Her tone became solemn. With measured intent, the woman-girl gave answer in all seriousness. “Six weeks ago, we were making our way back to Carcassonne when we were intercepted by the Sultan of Tuscany—the former Abbasid Muslim you entrusted the fiefdom to after he converted to Christianity and helped you defeat the Umayyad Paynims that were in league with Desidarius and the Lombards.”

Charlois was cautiously hopeful but still perplexed. “Yes! Achmed Al Hadi! I know him well; at least I thought I did!” The king pulled at his chin whiskers and became pensive. No one interrupted the silence as the king considered whether he’d made a flawed character evaluation in the matter of Al Hadi’s appointment. Eventually, he continued. “After his performance at my side in the field against the Lombards, I assumed him to be an honorable man, like his son, Ferractus.”

Mitaine continued. “That’s just it, M’lord. Someone believable informed him that Roland and the rest in our group were the murderers of his son. He’s not seen Ferractus nor heard from him since he was ambushed and saved by Roland. Since that’s the case, the vile lie he’s been told seems believeable to him.”

Charlois was becoming more worried the further she went with her story. “But then, what’s he done with Roland and my daughter?”

“They’re safe at his palace and he’s treated them well so far. He’s holding them for ransom.” she answered, quite matter-of-factly.

One could see the king’s face go from pale to red. “Ransom!” he cried. “That’s an outrage! And a gross affront to his sovereign!”

At this point, Naimon intervened and commented calmly, “Not so, M’lord. His act is completely rational. He’s been given good reason, by someone credible, to believe they’re his son’s murderers. Anyone in his place, even you, would have responded no differently.”

Charlois calmed back down and, for the moment, was once again quiet and contemplative. He stared into space and repeated the unconscious habit he’d acquired of pulling at his beard at such moments. “Hmm.” was the only sound that emanated from his lips as he pondered his high counselor’s appraisal of the situation.

At last, he looked to Naimon and with a smile exclaimed, “You know, I believe you’re right!” Quickly he looked back to Mitaine. “So, what’s the price for their release?”

Her answer came without any hesitation or hint of concern. “Ten thousand gold triens each or—.”

“What!”, Charlois cried out, in shocked disbelief. “Outrageous!”

His lack of restraint annoyed the little page and she made it known. “Or!” she shouted, squelching his outburst, after which she continued in a respectful tone of voice. “Kindly allow me to finish, M’lord.” She paused—silence. She continued. “Or… proof that his son’s alive.” She was finished.

Not a sound was to be heard within the room. The four men looked around to see the reaction to the girl’s message on each other’s face. Almost as if it had been pre-rehearsed, they simultaneously burst into resounding laughter, loud enough to carry forth from the tent, causing the guards outside and passers-by to give pause and look to one another in curious wonderment. Back inside, their little messenger smirked, failing to see the humor in all of it and remained silent.

Only now did the king indicate he was relaxed and quite obviously, completely relieved. “Well, little cousin; that’s the easiest problem I’ve been asked to solve in months!” he exclaimed. He looked to Ogier who had remained near the door. “Ogier!” he called out, grinning all the while.

“Yes, Sire?”

“Fetch Ferractus. Tell him I have a special quest to send him on!”

“By your leave, Sire!” Ogier gave a quick bow and made good his exit as the rest continued their jovial laughter.

Finally, they settled back into a semblance of courtly normalcy and Charlois focused his attention once more on their welcome little messenger. “So, tell me Mitaine, how’s my daughter and your knight and the rest of our wandering strays?”

Mitaine raised both brows and shrugged, shaking her head slowly. “At this point, I really couldn’t say. It took me much longer to find you than, I’m sure, anyone would have guessed. First, I went to Vienne, then Dauphinee, then Aachen. But, no one knew where to find you. I had to follow a trail of rumors on the road in order to finally track you down.”

As soon as she’d mentioned Aachen, he’d quit listening. “Aachen! How’s my Queen?”

“She’s fine—worried sick about you.”

“But she must know I’m at war with Ethelwulf!” There was a moment of silence as he paused and reflected. Obviously frustrated, he blurted, “If I could just find him!”

Mitaine was incredulous. She couldn’t believe his missi (spies) and scouts were that incompetent. “But Sire! She, with help from the count of Vienne, defeated him in the field at Liege on the river Meuse almost two months ago!”

“What?” he cried as he glanced back and forth from Richard to Naimon with a distressed look of pained disbelief on his face.

“You won’t find a Saxon in France no matter where you look! Ethelwulf’s dead and the remains of his army are all gone back across the Rhine!”

“God in heaven! She drove them out alone? It’s a miracle!”

“She said she had good help from the count of Vienne.”

Her comment dampened the conversation. Vienne was a sore subject and Charlois was ambivalent about dealing with that duke’s unresolved disregard for the fealty oath. He replied less inspired. “Still, it’s a miracle.”

Just then, Ogier came back in with Ferractus trailing. Ogier made the most of the rather comical situation with an overdone, sweeping bow after which he announced with no small amount of pomp, “Sire, as you’ve requested, may I present for your consideration, Squire Ferractus!”

All present looked at one another trying not to smile. “Thank you, Ogier” the king replied with all seriousness. “Ferractus, I have a very important assignment for you and it’s quite imperative that it be undertaken immediately.”

The gentle giant surveyed the assemblage and, by the looks on their faces, quickly surmised that some mischief was afoot. What kind, he was wont to discover. He remained inscrutable and bowed respectfully. “I’m always at your service, Sire.”

Without returning eye contact, Charlois cleared his throat. “Ahem! Fine! Fine!” he answered, still trying hard not to laugh. He paused momentarily to compose himself and calm his faculties, then continued.

“Now you’ll have to leave this very hour with Mitaine here to go and bring me back your knight, Count Roland, from your father’s house.”

Though he’d somewhat braced himself psychologically for whatever might be in store, the king’s directive was like a punch in the stomach. It took the wind out of him and at the same time left him completely confused and bewildered. “But Sire! I don’t understand” he answered, in an effort to seek further explanation.

The king and the rest were now chuckling among themselves. They were all smiles as Charlois shooed him away. “Mitaine will explain it all to you on the road. For now, it’s enough for you to know that I want you to go see your father.”

Looking around the room at them all and afterward Mitaine, he could see that to object was useless. “Very well, M’lord. As you wish. I’m happy to oblige!” Bowing once more he turned and made his exit.

Mitaine didn’t bother to bow. She just turned to follow after him. But, before she could make good her departure, her father called after her. “Mitaine!”

His call halted her progress immediately. She turned back. “Yes, Father?”

“Tell your big brother I miss him and to hurry back!”

“Yes, Father; I will.” She answered and turned again to go.

“And Mitaine!” he called again; this time, more urgently.

Once more, she turned back to him. “Yes, Father?”

Duke Richard closed the distance between himself and his daughter in a heartbeat. He took her by the upper arms with both hands. Looking down upon her with loving eyes and the pride of a doting father, he leaned down and whispered so none but she could hear. “I love you so much! And I am so proud of you!”

She smiled. “I know, Father.” She hugged him once more, kissed his cheek, then turned and was gone.

Duke Richard turned and looked back to the others. There was momentary silence in the room. Finally Charlois spoke.

“Well,” he said with a mournful sigh, “I suppose there’s nothing else to do now but continue on to Vienne and deal with Duke Gerard.”

Ogier groused at the suggestion. “I’d just as soon eat a rotten skunk.”

Charlois sighed again. “I know, Ogier. Me too. I’ve avoided it for as long as possible. But I’m afraid, there’s no further putting it off.”