On a Stormy Day in London

     Rain pelted the ground. Small puddles soon appeared, splashing wet the feet of all who walked the sodden pavements, seemingly drunk on habitual showers, saturated they turned to rivers. Then the torrents began, intermittent with gusts of wind, hailing down upon London's constant traffic, incessant, movement that knew no bounds, no confines. It would travel on throughout the day, over bridges where the river Thames flowed endlessly, on and on into the night and beyond, street lights reflecting on wet roads like the remains of a fairground, as planes flew low overhead at regular intervals, ready to land. The roadways were incandescent after the day's heat. Once the rain came, it washed away summer's end, the shimmer in the parks now golden, bending boughs heavy in leaf, flowers now fallen, washed into autumn's hold.
     Emma finished her large cup of coffee, the dregs frothy clinging to the bottom. Looking out from the warmth of a café, she gathered her things, stood up, then proceeded into the onslaught of now storm-like weather. Resigned to it, she headed for the nearest underground station, her feet disturbing the puddles as she hurried, sending the water in all directions. 
     Emma gritted her teeth as she had left her coat and umbrella at home. Wet strands of jet-black hair clung to her pretty face as she hurried to the entrance of the station. Down the steps to the barriers, she touched her travel card onto the yellow area and gratefully passed through the open gates. Around the corner were the two large lifts that descended to the lower reaches of the underground, taking her to a choice of tunnels before reaching the platform.
    But today was different. One of the lifts was out of order. Many people were waiting for the only one in operation, several with suitcases on wheels heading for the airport. Eventually the lift door opened, then many converged into the available space, hot and airless. There were several different nationalities thrown together. Emma lowered her head close to a young man who apologized for treading on her foot.
     'That's alright. It's no bother', she muttered, looking up briefly. It's a little crowded today.' She looked down at her shoes grimacing. They were wet and soggy.
     'The weather doesn't help', smiled the young man. 'Looks like you got caught in it.'
     'I'm afraid so.' Emma looked up, hair still clinging to her face as she tried to brush it back, giving a hint of a smile. The young man hadn't taken his gaze from Emma. Now she was wishing she hadn't got caught in the downpour and started to feel a little self-conscious. She felt his eyes on her. As the lift doors opened on the other side, the young man said hastily, 'apologies again for stepping on your toes.'
     The lift was emptying, people were making their way in several directions. Emma started heading for the usual platform, the train hopefully would arrive in a minute or two, taking her home to a cosy house where she could change her clothes, which felt uncomfortable and damp. 
     She turned, trying to look consoled and smiled charmingly at the young man. 'You're welcome. No harm done' she replied as cheerfully as she could manage under the circumstances.
     The platform was crowded, there had obviously been a holdup somewhere. Oh bother, thought Emma. Just when I need to get home quickly & dry off! Her feet were soaked, she had worn some soft leather shoes today and now suffered the eventuality of the British weather turning autumnal. She swore under her breath, trying to advance closer to the edge of the platform. She decided to edge her way to the end of the platform, where she might have a better chance of catching the next train she knew would be crowded to the hilt. As she did so, she ended up standing next to the young man from the lift.
     'Hello again' he grinned. 'I promise not to stand on you toes this time.'
     'Oh, its you!' Emma was not sure whether to be pleased or not. All she wanted to do was get home.
     'Yes, it's me.'
     Emma continued, 'I'm a creature of habit but I've never seen you on this platform before, or in the lift either.'
     'Just as well perhaps. At least your toes are safer!' The young man looked up and down the platform for the oncoming train, but it was not in sight. 
     'I wonder what has happened to all the trains,' frowned Emma. 'There is usually one after the other.'
     An announcement came from the platform speakers at that moment - all the trains were held up because of an emergency somewhere along the tunnel.
     'Damn and blast!' retorted Emma. 'Today of all days.' She mainly said it to no-one in particular, but the young man next to her offered, 'I would be more than happy to try for a cab with you. If we made our way out now, we may be in luck.'
     'That's kind of you. I might take you up on that,' replied Emma.
     'It's the least I can do for abusing your feet in that way. Shall we make our way out of this crush? I'll try not step on your toes again, promise.'
     'Thank you, good idea. I'll follow you up those stairs.' Emma indicated with her head, trying not to smile outwardly as the young man led the way. 
     They eventually arrived back at the station's entrance. The young man noticed a waiting cab and immediately spoke to the driver.
     'Where would you like to go?' he asked Emma 'If you tell the driver your address, I'll use his services afterwards.'
     The young man stood back while Emma mentioned her address. She got in, her new acquaintance following. The cab set off from the curb, entering the relentless London traffic.
     The rain by now was easing, steam wafting upwards from the wet road, mingling with cars and buses while the late afternoon sun made a brief appearance still feeling warm after the onslaught of the sudden storm.
     'But what if you are going entirely in the opposite direction?' Emma quickly arranged herself next to the young man, still feeling self-conscious.
     'Well as it happens, I AM going in your direction, vaguely anyway,' smiled the young man. 'I suppose I should know your name, specially as we are travelling companions. Mine is Richard, named after the notorious king Richard I, nicknamed 'Lionheart' I believe. My mother is an avid reader of historic fiction and rather fancies the life Richard led, going on crusade as he did. He was quite a leader of armies it seems. Had a heck of a life, never in this country for long either.  Always off fighting, braving the enemy, even got nabbed at one time. Think he was supposed to have rubbed someone up the wrong way, so got 'detained' on return from the crusade.  Held for many months too. Then his mother, Eleanor of Aquitaine bailed him out. Richard's younger brother John was causing a lot of trouble in England, trying to gain power and the throne in Richard's absence. So she had to get her favourite son Richard back as quickly as possible. Paid a lot of money for him too! Supposed to have been about 150,000 marks of silver to an emperor, for his release in 1194.
     'You seem to know a lot about it.' Emma's attention was now fully on Richard sitting beside her, becoming more animated by the minute.  
     'My mother is dead keen on certain authors. She says there is a lot of historical information to learn if I was to follow suit. She has been reading that stuff for a long time and well, I suppose a lot of it has rubbed off on me,' grinned Richard.
     'You must like history to absorb all that!' replied Emma. It all sounds rather interesting. Tell me more - if you like, that is. Historic fiction must be very complicated. And by the way, my name is Emma. Pleased to meet you,' she smiled somewhat hastily.
     Richard didn't hesitate to continue. 'Well it's like this...' He glanced over at Emma who indeed looked interested, much to his surprise. Her brown eyes were bright with anticipation, she seemed to him to be glowing. He paused longer, noticing her features. Her long dark hair was now drying, complexion pink as ripe summer peaches. She wasn't tall like him, nor was she very short either, her figure trim & almost sporty, he thought. He brought his mind back to the subject at hand, adding, 'most of the books my mother reads are historic fiction, but actually much of it is based on fact. What made you think it would be historic fiction?'
     'Oh, I don't know...' Emma shrugged her shoulders a little. 'It all sounds rather exciting, the sort of thing you might read when very young about knights and kings, castles and the like. Perhaps much of it was based on fact. I'd like to think so. Please, tell me more,' she added smiling at Richard, almost a pleading look on her face.
    'I don't know an awful lot myself, but my mother is quite enthusiastic about that period of history and what came afterwards too.'
     'What came afterwards?' asked Emma. 'I learned about Richard I in history at school, but have forgotten most of it, the crusades too. Wasn't there more than one?'
     'Indeed there was,' replied Richard. 'Involving the Knights Templar too. Their original name was, The Poor Fellow Soldiers of Christ and of the Temple of Jerusalem. They played an important role, so-called. They were originally there to protect the pilgrims on crusade, look after them, but eventually things changed and they were finally disbanded or killed after the order had existed for nearly two centuries in the Middle Ages. Evidently they had been a skilled fighting unit and in the beginning a French Knight, Hugues de Payens in 1120 proposed to King Baldwin II of Jerusalem, to create a monastic order to protect the pilgrims. This king granted them headquarters in a wing of the Royal Palace on the Temple Mount. In fact their existence alone is very interesting. But as luck would have it, cutting a long story short, they had started off very poor, gaining in time, more wealth & power, so eventually many were arrested in France, tortured into giving false statements, then burnt at the stake. Not a good ending was it?'
     'No, I think not,' said Emma, giving a slight shudder. Perhaps they should have stayed poor and not become wealthy. I must say that their original name goes against how they finally ended up! The order may have lasted a lot longer if they had not become so powerful.
     'It's hard to say.' Richard looked over again at Emma, wondering that perhaps they had several things in common. Although his mother was adamant about history, he did enjoy thinking about it, even reading the same books from time to time whenever he got bored with life in the present day. 
     Richard continued, 'Another of those "what if" scenarios. That could be applied to many facets in history. England might have become French or German, or even Dutch. One never knows. It's how the cookie crumbles. After all, French was spoken for some time after William the Conqueror's time.'
     Emma still facing Richard, asked, 'Back to Richard I for a moment. Tell me a bit more about him. I like the sound of this Richard. He seems to have lived an exciting existence.' 
      She looked out of the window for a moment adding, 'we haven't got long to go before I'll be home, but I hope you'll have time to tell me a bit more of this Lionheart.'
     'I don't know an awful lot more, but he also ruled as Duke of Normandy and had several other titles as Count of this and that. He was the third son of Henry II & Eleanor of Aquitaine as you already know, twice rebelling against his father before becoming King of England. He was a gifted military leader and warrior going on the third crusade in 1190, but never reconquering Jerusalem. This must have been a disappointment to him don't you think? But fighting against the Muslims, their leader Saladin, probably had a certain respect for Richard. After he finally returned to England when he had been ransomed, he was re-crowned at Winchester in Hampshire. After all that he had achieved, five years later, Richard was involved in a minor siege against a rebellious baron, whereupon he was shot in the shoulder with an arrow by a relatively unknown young man. His shoulder had become gangrenous and soon killed him. Not a justified end for such a warrior as Richard, was it?'
      'I quite agree. It appears he had survived many battles and skirmishes and to have to die like that seems utterly unfair really. I had heard that he may not have spoken much English, if at all.'
     'There is every possibility of that.' replied Richard. 'It is not known for sure what language he spoke, but it was a dialect of southern France I think. He was educated when young, in England, but in those days, English wasn't the first language spoken. Not like it is now. It had to evolve. Do you speak any languages Emma?'
     'Believe it or not, French,' she smiled nodding gently. 'Spoke it at school as we had a good French teacher. But it's always best to practice it regularly, otherwise you soon forget. I learned for five years and passed the exams too. Amazing, as it wasn't my favourite subject.'
     'What was your favourite then?' Richard was becoming more and more enamoured with Emma. When she seemed enthusiastic about anything, her eyes gave off a beautiful sparkle.
     Emma turned her head and answered, 'English!' Adding a slight nod at the same time. Richard grinned and then burst out laughing.
     'What's so funny?' asked Emma.
     'I might have known.' Richard smiled. 'It's a bit like "coals to Newcastle" isn't it? He's me going on and on about all this history and I bet you knew it all anyway. Didn't you?'
     'Just a little,' confessed Emma. Guess I'd better apologize. But all that you have told me, I found immensely interesting.'
     'I bet you did,' Richard pulled a face, feeling slightly exasperated, but relief that at least Emma had been honest confessing to her knowledge.
     Emma suddenly said, 'oh look, this is where I live. Thank goodness - now I can dry off properly. Getting caught in a that rain wasn't much fun. Do you have far to go from here Richard?'
     'Only about two miles.' Now it was his turn to smile.
     'But you never said,' remarked Emma.
     'You never asked,' laughed Richard, then added, do you suppose it would be possible to actually go out on a date with you one night soon? That is, unless you are married or in a relationship.'
     'Nothing like that,' said Emma. I suppose you had better have my phone number or email address in that case. If you care to contact me soon, I'm sure I could find a free night.' She rummaged in her bag finding a small pad with pen attached, then scribbled her details. 'Hope you can read that alright.' She handed the paper to Richard who was standing by the passenger seat door of the taxi. 'Please, let me pay for the cab.'
     Richard was quick to reply. 'Thanks, but no thanks,' he smiled. I was going in this direction anyway. Besides, I enjoyed our chat. Sorry I did most of it.' He looked down at his shoes for a moment, colour rising to his cheeks.
     He was tall with dark blonde hair, a muscular but well formed body & limbs. Emma suddenly taking in all that was standing before her, liked what she saw, smiled to herself. She too, felt her cheeks becoming a lot pinker.  
     'Nice to have met you Richard. Most unexpected. It wasn't so bad you standing on my toes. Really it wasn't,' she laughed.
     'The pleasure has been mine,' replied Richard, suddenly realizing what he had said. 'I'll contact you very soon. See you Emma. He sat beside the taxi driver for the rest of the way, the car setting off quickly from the curb.
     Emma walked the short distance to her door, turned one last time smiling inwardly, remembering the unexpected journey home after leaving the coffee shop, getting caught in the onslaught, then meeting Richard.
     The small park opposite was turning golden in the evening light, shadows lengthening, the tall trees moving in the peace  of the afternoon's storm, now departed. Birds were still flitting amidst the branches as a few leaves floated quietly down, settling on the grass under the trees, sprinkling it with colour like an autumn patchwork, the shades of the changing seasons.
     Emma was rather was looking forward to their date.
    
    
    
       


       
    

The Amethyst Ring

     Suspended precariously over the gently flowing river, the old bridge supported by a vague idea of age-old timbers, creaked & groaned as Katherine walked slowly across. She paused at it's center which rose slightly arched, pondering on her past life. She felt for the ring on the third finger of her left hand holding it out in front, smiling as she studied it, remembering  the moment it had been placed there. Katherine had been so very happy, the memories flooding back into her mind. Tears welled up within her & trickled gently down her ageing cheeks. The years of happiness spent with William now overcame her, their enriched lives together in married bliss would always be cherished. She walked on a few steps then paused again fingering the amethyst ring, admiring it, her thoughts flowing like the endless river beneath her.
     Many years ago Katherine had met William on the same bridge, but the weather had been in the bleak mid winter, ice had formed, encrusting the river banks either side beneath the small arched bridge. The iciness slowing the flow of water for a time during the cold winter. The air had been sharp & frosty that day, her cheeks rosy, cold to the touch, later her heart had been filled with the love she felt for William, they were both still young. She remembered how the wintry blast had gripped her. She had shivered, pulling her scarf closer to her neck to keep out the cold. As she had leant over the wooden railing of the old bridge, she had slipped on an icy patch & an arm had reached out holding her steady, preventing her falling.
     'Are you alright lady?' came a softly spoken man's voice.
     'Oh, I think so - thank you,' replied Katherine a little bemused.
     'You almost fell on that slippery ice there. I'm glad I caught you in time. Please excuse me for grabbing your arm like that,' the man's voice continued.
     'You mustn't apologize. I'm most grateful,' said Katherine. 'You probably saved me from receiving a few bruises, or worse still, broken bones,' she continued. 'Thank you again.'
     'You're welcome. By the way, my name is William.'
     'Mine is Katherine. I'm pleased to meet you.'
     'The pleasure's mine,' grinned William. He paused for a moment, breathing in the cold morning. 'It's very cold today, isn't it?' He shifted from one foot to the other.
     'Indeed it is, but I enjoy walking in the cold air. I find it invigorating.'
     'I do too.' William turned his head slightly, taking in Katherine's features, liking what he saw. 'But I've never seen you before.' He hesitated again, frowning a little as he thought.
     'I don't usually come this way,' said Katherine. 'In fact it's quite a way from home, but the air felt good today after lingering indoors for so long.' She thought how nice William was. He had a gentle manner about him, appeared a little shy too. William looked out across the river, the cold bleakness of the day turning his breath into brief clouds that floated quickly away. He tried not to glance too much in Katherine's direction, suddenly feeling self-conscious.
     They chatted on for a while enjoying the morning stroll, sharing a love of books, discussing many aspects of reading. As time went by they realized they had much in common.
     'May I see you home safely?' William looked over at Katherine, thinking how sweet her face was. He noticed her smile in particular, her pretty mouth & white teeth. She possessed clear blue eyes that sparkled when she laughed, making him feel warm inside, even though the weather was far from warm.
     'Well I live a distance away. It may be completely out of your way.'
     'I don't mind in the least,' said William. 'Can't have you falling on the ice, can I?' He frowned at that moment but hoped her answer would be positive, then a persuasive look in his eyes.
     'That's most kind of you. It's not so far really.' Katherine managed to glance over at William when she thought he wasn't looking in her direction. It was admirable of him to offer. She was compelled to agree. 
     They were both in their late 20's, neither having married or become attached as yet. Katherine lived on her own in an end of terrace house on the edge of a village. William at the other end, a bachelor of independent means, shy where women were concerned. He had only lived there a short time after changing jobs. He now worked for himself as an architect, setting himself up in business after gaining much experience working for a large London company. They had decided to relocate elsewhere, but William had made the decision not to stay with them, preferring the quieter country life where he had been brought up. So far his business had been successful, gaining many new clients in a relatively short time. It was easy to adjust to country life & the local pub, The George, seemed to produce several idiosyncratic village folk he found interesting when he visited the pub for a drink & meal sometimes.
     Katherine was a primary school teacher & loved her job in the village. They had many children attending the local school as lots of young couples had moved into the village & surrounding areas. She & William were beginning to see rather a lot of each other, mainly in the weekends, but occasionally on week nights when Katherine was not marking the children's work. She had plucked up courage to invite William to supper one night in early March if he wasn't too busy. It didn't take him long to agree to her invitation, turning up on time at 7pm as suggested, grasping a decent bottle of red wine & some flowers - white roses he had managed to find still available. He thought she would like white roses.
     'Come in William,' she said. 'I hope you are hungry. I've prepared a French dish. Hope you like coq au vin & there's a chocolate mousse with cream to follow. No strawberries at this time of year I'm afraid.
     'Thank you. I'm sure I'll love that. Sounds wonderful. You must be a good cook.'
     'Oh, I get by,' blushed Katherine, feeling William's gaze on her, becoming a little self-conscious. Handing her the bottle of red wine he said, 'I hope this goes with the chicken dish you have prepared. Thought you'd like white roses too. Bit hard to find them, but find them I did.'
     'Your choice of wine is perfect,' smiled Katherine. 'Thank you William. The roses are beautiful. I'll find a vase for them. I love white roses.' It was William's turn to feel self-conscious. 'You are most welcome. It's good of you to have cooked something that sounds special. I will enjoy a home-cooked meal. I'm not the best of cooks.'
     Together as the evening progressed, whatever shyness they might have felt, vanished & a feeling of warmth grew between them. They enjoyed their time together laughing & joking, spending the evening in deep discussion about the books they were reading, listening to music sharing a bottle of wine.
     After several such suppers, they fell deeply in love. The winter had turned into spring with the bluebells carpeting the nearby woods. Daffodils spilling in clumps onto the lanes, golden they nodded, dancing brightly in the spring sunshine. The snowdrops having first appeared, their white flower heads delicately edged with green tips as though painted on with an artist's brush. They often poked through the cold ground flowering when snow had fallen, their cheery heads thrusting above the whiteness delighting the onlooker, reminding that the winter was nearing its end. The beginning of spring was apparent. In the lanes many wild flowers flourished. Then came the dog roses sprinkled throughout hedgerows, accompanied by tall stems of pink foxglove. The headiness of honeysuckle wafted through the air, when on a warm night in summer when it was Katherine's birthday, they had walked as far as the old bridge, William had produced a small box. Katherine opened it carefully. Nestled in black velvet was a beautiful silver ring with an amethyst embedded in the center. The band of silver was wider where the stone was set, slightly raised so as to be prominent, but perfectly designed.
     'Oh, how beautiful,' gasped Katherine. 'Thank you so much Wills.' She often called him by his nickname. 'It's lovely & simple, but very beautiful.' William took it out of the small box & placed it on the third finger of her left hand. It fitted perfectly. It had been passed down the generations in William's family & all who had worn it had been very happy. It was an old heirloom given to him by his mother who had died suddenly two years ago. She meant him to have the ring as she believed it brought happiness in a marriage. It had been carefully crafted a long time ago & now Katherine would wear it experiencing what he hoped was a family tradition.
     'Katherine, will you marry me?' William now looked very serious. 'You must know I love you very much. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Please, say you will. I'd be lost without you now. I want you to be my wife.'
     'How romantic!  I'd love to marry you Wills. When did you have in mind?' Katherine smiled sweetly up at him feeling rather excited deep down.
     'Tomorrow!' laughed William.
     'That's a little soon don't you think? There may be a few arrangements to make.' Katherine gave a little laugh, then kissed him gently on his mouth.
     'Do we have to make arrangements? Can't we just get married?' retorted William.
     'It's not quite that simple, but yes, as soon as we can, we will.' William made a face at her which made Katherine laugh again. She loved his manner, his complete dedication to the matter in hand, his apparent seriousness. It was all she could do not t0 appear too impetuous herself. But deep down she felt this moment would always be important to her, to them. It would be remembered, cherished.
     Not too long after, they were married in the village church. It had been a lovely warm day in early October, both had looked forward to the day, Katherine wearing a long gown of off-white silk, white roses in her hair with tiny pearls dotted about her veil. She held a bouquet of white roses & looked beautiful, her blue eyes sparkling like the sea, dark hair curling softly flowing down her back & tied up at the sides making her look elegant. William was handsome in a dark suit, a white rosebud in his lapel. They had decided to live in William's house & rent the other one. It had given them another helpful income. Katherine had continued teaching, William becoming rather successful as an architect. Their life together had been happy, they had travelled, sharing many of life's experiences. Their love of books, music & other things had continued over the years.
    
     Katherine stood on the bridge gazing wistfully at the ring she had worn since William first placed it on her finger all those years ago.  She sighed remembering the happy times they had spent together before & after their marriage, her mind reminiscing over the years. The fun, laughter & all they had shared, flooded back into Katherine's mind now, her heart sad after losing dear William recently after a sudden heart attack at the young age of seventy two. Tears flooded down her cheeks. Her life seemed empty now, their marriage had been fulfilled, happy, contented, although they had had no children. The amethyst ring had certainly brought happiness into their lives, or so it seemed. The loss of William was devastating, unexpected. Katherine gazed at the ring again, stroking it, memories vivid in her mind of how they had lived & loved. William had been right, the ring had brought happiness, a blissful contentment she would never forget. He will be with her forever. She knew that.
     Katherine looked up from admiring the amethyst ring she had always loved, the center stone sitting proud in the silver, the sun still warm on her face, a light breeze had sprung up catching the sides of her hair that was slowly turning white. Her face was still beautiful, eyes blue as the sea, but had somehow lost their sparkle. The bridge was even older now, like her she thought, it spanned over the river that had turned icy when she first met William. Over time it had remained intact, its timbers ageing but holding firm. It still creaked & groaned when anyone walked over it. The center of the arch where they had sometimes stood peering into the flowing water, was the most worn. Perhaps other people had paused there, leaning on the rail. The water was not icy today, in fact being October the weather was still unusually warm. Ah, thought Katherine, suddenly remembering , the sunshine spilling across the old timbers of the bridge, today was their wedding anniversary. She gazed nonchalently one last time over the arched rail of the bridge, turned & walked slowly toward home as she wiped away the shed tears . The water continued flowing under the bridge as her love for William would continue until the day she too, would die. But it wasn't going to be today. Katherine smiled gently to herself & walked home. 

    

New beginnings... Chapter 4

     As daylight replaced the darkness, Matilda realized the life changing revelations made the day before, caused her to feel pensive in the early morning, bewildering her emotions. Pierre's admission that he was her father, had caused turmoil in her young mind. Thoughts about her earlier life and the future, left her yearning to know more. Her life had been turned around, she knew not what the future held. She sighed to herself wondering what the new day would bring.
     Catherine, who had been her friend since childhood, was also her older sister. Matilda was aware that there had been two sisters, Catherine being one of them not only looked like Matilda, but had sometimes shown similar tendencies. Pierre had revealed his identity at a very poignant moment when Catherine had been hurt by a stray sword tip and as things turned out, she was able to continue for the remainder of the day's riding. Her wound had been superficial, causing no further discomfit, much to everyone's relief.
      Soon after dawn, the party of men accompanying Pierre and the two girls, gathered by the stables. They had almost finished mounting, ready to continue in the early morning, when Pierre appeared with his daughters, helping them onto their horses. A young groom held the horses still, then handed the reins to the two girls. Catherine's leg seemed to be healing. She eased herself into the saddle with no apparent problems. So too, was Henry's gash to the shoulder.
     Pierre looked up, addressing Catherine in particular. 'Now lass, will you be able to ride this morning?' He was frowning slightly, still worried about her as she settled herself.
     'Yes...yes, I think so my lor....' Catherine hesitated for a moment, then nodded to Pierre, smiling briefly. 
     'Good, as we have a long ride today. If you need to stop and rest, then you must let me know immediately. Do you understand?'
     'Thank you. Yes, I will.' Catherine nodded, holding the reins, sitting upright in the saddle, the cantle visible from under her clothing.
     Pierre was still gazing up at her and asked, 'Do you suppose you could call me 'papa' from now on?'
     'I'll try..., papa.'
     'I'd like that. I know it won't be easy for a while until you and Matilda get used to it, but if you can but try, I'd be very pleased. Now, it's time we got started.' He smiled at both girls, briefly checking their bridles, expecting the groom to have done his job correctly.
     Pierre was aware that all the men were now mounted. He wanted to get underway as soon as possible. Fixing his gaze on Matilda, asked her, 'will you be happy riding a long distance today, Matilda my dear?' 
     She looked down from her horse, then nodded. 'Yes, I'll be fine, really I will.'
     'Good, then let's be on our way, shall we?'
     Pierre sprang into his saddle, gathered the reins indicating to his men it was time to leave. The party were on the move once more, heading toward the coast. It was still early, the morning feeling fresh as they got started.
      Pierre knew it was necessary to keep a closer eye on the road ahead in  future days. He would see to it that a scout was sent up ahead to check there was no apparent trouble.
     They set off at a slow pace at first. Pierre concerned that Catherine would not be capable of riding for a good part of the day without further pain or bleeding from her leg. He stayed close to her, ready to help should the need arise, not wishing to quicken the pace until he was satisfied his daughter was coping adequately. Thankfully the weather was fair, warm even, as they made their way over undulating countryside, constantly heading in the direction of the sea where, once crossed they would continue on to their destination. They were making good time. It had previously been arranged they would meet up with a boat that would take them across the sea to England.
     They were riding at a good pace now, Matilda was beside Catherine, Pierre on the other side. William followed behind Catherine, making sure surreptitiously, she was not in any way feeling discomfit. Often throughout the long journey both girls would chat if the going was easy. Matilda looked over, asked how Catherine's leg was.
     'Oh, I'm sure I will live a few more years,'  she laughed, taking the matter lightly.
     'Well it was thought the sword tip catching your leg like that would be a lot worse. I'm pleased you are able to ride.' Matilda frowned, her expression was one of concern for her sister.
     Catherine gave another short laugh. 'It was nothing really, just a nick and some blood, that's all,' she answered, brushing it off lightly. 
     At this moment she noticed the young man named William, just behind her. He smiled at her causing Catherine to blush. She felt the colour rise to her cheeks, looked straight ahead, hoping he had not noticed the change in her appearance. A slight smile was upon her lips, feeling a lightness in her heart.
     There were still several day's riding before they reached the coast. Safety played a large part in the mind of Pierre. He was not prepared to risk any further incidents, specially involving his daughters. It was essential they arrived in England without experiencing further trouble.
     After the first hour or so, the pace quickened, several small villages were passed, a river crossed, countryside traversed as the riders continued without further delays. Matilda and Catherine had become accustomed to the daily routine spent in the saddle, their bodies quite conditioned with the grueling miles undertaken, but they were looking forward to arriving at their destination. Pierre had been pleased, keeping a close eye on them both, when soon it would be time to board the vessel for the sea journey to England.
     The night before they were due to sail, they were bedded down at an inn, where Pierre was in constant touch with the ship's captain. It was expected they would catch the early morning tide and sail for England on the morrow.
     As dawn broke, plans were afoot to load everything onto the ship without further delay, the tide waits for no man.
     Matilda and Catherine felt a little uneasy about boarding the large vessel, as it was their first experience. They were unsure what to expect. The weather was looking hopeful, apart from a possible storm in due course, but thought to pass further north, certainly not severe.
     The two girls were very apprehensive as they were shown to a small area where they could settle, not feeling at all confident. Pierre assured them all would be well as they sat cl0se together for comfort and support.
     The boat left the port of Calais as the tide was favourable. They breezed out of the harbour in the early hours, the sun still low on the horizon. The air was fresh, brisk, as it took the boat in a vague westerly direction at this stage. Matilda and Catherine were a little more at ease with their surroundings, watching the last of Calais disappear into a slight sea mist forming. The boat slid carefree across the waves, the captain keeping a watchful eye on all around him, giving orders to his crew as the small ship eased it's way toward open water.
     Not too long after the boat was clear of land, it began to pitch and toss slightly, its bow dipping low into large waves. The party of men took it in their stride as they played several games on deck to wile away the time. The captain kept a close eye on the weather for the intended storm, thinking they would be safe as they made their way further west, causing the boat to dip into oncoming waves that appeared to be getting larger.  He wouldn't want to sail directly into it. On the other hand, it was possible it would miss them completely, they would be spared the inconvenience and disruption of a possible soaking.
     The wind increased, moaned as the sea hissed around them. Spray was finding its way on deck, the larger waves spilling over the sides. The ship tossed on the brow of the white foaming sea, the stern shuddering as it came right out of the water before diving into the next oncoming swell. By now the two girls were becoming increasingly anxious as Pierre tried to reassure them. He too, was becoming more than a little alarmed, anxious as he looked at the oncoming swell, grimacing when it soaked the deck time after time. The crew were busy as the captain gave orders, keeping them busy. The party of men accompanying the two girls gave up their games as the weather became rougher, the decks wetter. It had started to rain, the wind by now increasing to gale force, the vessel tossed about like a cork on the hissing, spewing sea. The noise of the wind was deafening as the sea rose even higher, braking and crashing across the bow of the vessel, thundering back over the sides. 
     Catherine clung to Matilda who appeared the braver of the two. 'I'm frightened Matilda. Do you think the ship will sink?'
     'I hope not!' Matilda's expression was grim, not at all reassuring, Catherine became even more frightened. 'There wasn't supposed to be a storm. Specially one as bad as this.'
     William, the young man with whom Catherine had exchanged glances several days earlier, approached them to make sure they were safely taken care of. Pierre by now, was not only anxious, but hoping the storm would soon blow itself out. Its force was taking the ship off-course and he wondered if indeed, they would ever reach England. The storm was far worse than even the captain had expected, but being conditioned to it, remained steadfast in his quest to reach England safely. He glanced up at the mast which was tossing to and fro in the strong wind, the rain intensifying. 
     The storm didn't get any worse as the day wore on, but the wind never relented either, as it tore at the ship for many hours.
     It took two days to finally reach English shores, the wind having finally blown itself out. The vessel, although taking a pounding, had survived the storm, carried them into Dover as the morning light dawned watery in the east. A sunrise of immense beauty greeted them as the boat slipped quietly into the harbour. The ship's crew prepared to dock, the passengers relieved, exhausted, looked forward to stretching their legs. The feeling of solid earth under their feet and eventually completing their ongoing journey, was what occupied everyone's mind. The captain had held his crew together well, no one had fallen overboard, they had all survived and so had the vessel that had brought them to England, the storm finally relenting. But soon news reached them that two smaller ships had been lost, the captain and crew taking the news with deep regret and sadness.  
     Catherine and Matilda, together with Pierre and his men, finally stepped ashore upon English soil, the two girls smiling at one another as they did so. There was huge relief expressed, they had survived the savage sea, the terrifying storm will become but a memory. A mutual sense of achievement was acknowledged by all at the long distance travelled earlier on land and the time it took to reach safety by sea. 
     The next stage of their journey was about to begin.

Mists of time....

     A smell of rain filled the air, as acacia trees swayed to the breeze with the weight of their blooms. A stray leaf danced to the tune of time, tripping with a rustle on a bare pavement. Ducks on the pond dipped into shimmering water, reflecting the hues of morning. Crows cawed high in a pine tree, the breeze sounding through its branches like a soft roar.
     Time was one thing James didn't have, or hardly felt anymore, as he sometimes experienced a wrenching pain in his abdomen gripping his soul, his inner being trying to gain control. The malfunction of his body persisted, with the little time James thought he had left. As he gazed nonchalantly over to the pond, he reached down slightly with one hand placed over the troublesome area, giving a slight groan as ducks played on the pond, splashing with their beaks.  He struggled with the occasional sharp pain, the dull monotony, week after week & almost looked forward to when it would put an end to his days.  
     His mind ambled back to when his sweet Emma was constantly at his side, sharing life's path & fulfillment of their enriched time together; their love & tenderness always at the forefront bonding them. Many happy years had been spent throughout their younger life, frolicking in the bubbling surf on a hot day, until exhaustion forced them to lull about in the warm sunshine. The fine sand soft, white under their bare toes as they dug them into the depths, burying them under the fine grains. The passage of time saw their relationship blossom, growing into later years of blissful contentment, sharing many aspects of what life threw at them & meeting it head on with happiness & trust. But sadly Emma had left him. Alone with his thoughts he ploughed on without her, trying to come to terms with life venturing into old age, the antipathy of his existence.
     James wandered past the ducks & through the tall eucalypt trees on the edge of the park he often enjoyed, watching the changing seasons each time he ventured out. He loved autumn mostly, when mists would creep across the stillness of the pond swirling gently, the ducks swimming through it's soft whisper of moist haze. He watched rainclouds on the nearby mountain enshrouding its summit, ghostlike, often dark blue & moody.
     Some of the few intermittent deciduous trees in the park & beyond, had held rich autumnal colours of rustic reds & burnt orange. The leaves turning from yellow to red before falling to the ground forming a carpet of rain-splashed beauty. Then winter was upon him once more & the cold loneliness he felt without Emma was often intolerable.
     The pain this morning was no more intense than other days as James left the duck pond continuing on the path strewn with bark & twigs, leaves that had been torn from the eucalypts in a frenzy of strong winds during the previous night. Rain had arrived in the early morning before diminishing, leaving the leaves glistening with dappled sunshine glowing through the branches, shadows still long in the late winter. James walked through the remainder of the park & entered a sweeping roadside. Trees lined the street either side with thick bark of Melaleuca coating their trunks, tight red flowers adorning the branches in early bud, when later they would swell & burst forth into bottlebrush formations in spring. 
     The morning was advancing as James arrived back at his home, a neat three bedroomed brick house set back off a quiet winding crescent. The garden sprawled to the fenceless front, grass was green from winter rains, small flower beds  overwintering with several small shrubs spilling over the edges. James enjoyed pottering in the garden, but without Emma, it had lost its charm. Emma had kept the garden for many years, always looking fresh & overflowing with beauty.
     He walked through the front door, instantly feeling the emptiness, the house quiet even with the radio softly playing music from the kitchen. Several years had been spent on his own, but the loss he felt now was no less painful than the day his dear Emma had died. Her illness had shocked James as he struggled to cope with the day to day chores while looking after her. Now the house lacked their love, never to return as James coped with looking after himself now. His own problem had manifested itself not long ago, the pain he managed to bear. The doctor had told him of its severity & his time would be brought to an abrupt end some day. 
     Two days later an old friend appeared at his door. James ushered him in & after pleasantries had been exchanged,  the state of the weather briefly discussed, John related a story to James. A relative had left the country for good, their black Labrador dog being deposited with him & his wife. The animal originally named Clementine, but soon shortened to Charlie. John & his wife had a small home & even smaller garden, unable to accommodate a dog such as Charlie. Would there be any chance of James taken her on for good. James took no time to consider the offer, briefly outlining his apparent illness & the fact that he wasn't sure how long he had left. John immediately understood James's situation, sorry that he had a serious problem, but Charlie was desperate for a good home. After brief consideration, James thought he may be able to manage & agreed to accept Charlie indefinitely, but with a view to returning her if the going got too tough. John was pleased, beaming with pleasure that at last the problem of Charlie was solved. Well for now at least. It was arranged that Charlie would arrive tomorrow if James was in agreement.
     Saturday dawned cool but bright, the sun giving the nearby mountain a soft blue glow as clouds lingered low near its base. Shadows were long as the fruit tree in James's back garden was adorned with white blossom. He gazed out of the long patio door at the small garden & wondered if it would be big enough for a dog. He felt somewhat apprehensive but happy with the thought of Charlie's arrival soon, hoping  the new friendship would be mutual.
     Charlie arrived an hour after breakfast & padded slowly, hesitantly toward James as if she may not be welcome. James put his hand out for Charlie to sniff, murmuring soft words to the black coated dog. Her large brown eyes looked up at him,  immediately James smiled in return, patted Charlie & was smitten for all time. The dog wagged her tail & nuzzled James's leg, looking up at him with adoration. They appeared instant friends, soon to be inseparable.  
     John felt easy with the obvious bonding, leaving all the dog's paraphernalia with James & departed leaving the two to get to know each other. 
     'Well now lass, what shall we do first eh?' said James still patting his new acquisition. 'How about if I show you around the garden, then after lunch we could venture out & familiarize you with the local area. Would you like that?' Charlie whimpered & looked up at him wagging her tail, for she seemed to understand what was being said. 'Right then, that's settled. Now where would you like to sleep? Perhaps the laundry would be big enough. Can't leave you outside can we? Specially when it's cold. But I see you have a jacket for those days. Good!' James smiled inwardly, happier than he'd been for some time.
     Charlie sat & waited until James invited her to join him in the garden & without a second thought, bounded forward to where she nuzzled his leg. James bent & patted her again. Together they chatted for a while sitting on the patio under shelter, then walked around the garden front & back without the dog leaving James's side for a moment.
     Time passed & the new friends were inseparable. Charlie was obedient, with a kind & loving nature, proving a close companion for James. They ventured out together & over the months James's condition grew no worse, but tolerable as they helped each other adjust to a new life. 
     A few years went by & James found he was still able to look after Charlie. They had formed a mutual bond, a companionship from which each had benefited. Charlie never did leave him or was ever returned.

A Long Journey begins... Chapter 3

     Matilda looked down from a small window of Chillon castle, horses were being laden with small coffers, supplies for the journey ahead. She smiled to herself, musing over the  last time she had left the castle where she had spent most of her life with little freedom. She & her friend Catherine, were to be taken on the long & arduous journey to England for whatever reason they knew not. From childhood, they had both been taught to ride, considered part of their upbringing, long distances however had never been undertaken. This will be a new venture & they  were  looking forward to it, but with nervous anticipation. 
     Matilda felt a sense of exhilaration & excitement. Now she would be escorted, as before it had been very different. Her life within the castle had been structured, confined, when her inner self cried out for a life different to that of the past.
     Catherine, standing next to Matilda remained calm but optimistic, her quiet manner never showing much emotion. She had always been placid & contemplative, her grace & gentle nature in stark contrast to that of Matilda. Catherine was a good year older than Matilda, shorter, with tresses of deep golden brown when the sun's rays were upon them, her eyes brown like Matilda's, not as dark. Both girls expressed  strange unexplained similarities.
     The summer's day had dawned with promise, the sun becoming hotter as the day progressed, reaching higher than in the winter, when it barely escaped the horizon beyond the tall mountains nearby. Matilda loved the mountains, often gazing upon them, noticing their boundless beauty. Several of the highest peaks were still snow-clad, their whiteness gleaming, reflecting where the banks of lower hills & valleys swept down to meet the water's edge. Flowers grew in abundance amongst grassy meadows, some bending to the silvery water of the lake, glistening & rippling in summer breezes, soft with perfumed air as the days advanced.
     To one side of the lake Chillon castle had been built on a rocky bank, its walls, courtyards & semi round towers being extended as now, when work was continuing.
     In the early morning, many of its inhabitants moved about preparing for the journey while Matilda & Catherine gathered the last of their belongings, making ready for departure. Several of the staff were to join the company of Pierre, who took it upon himself to personally escort the two young ladies the entire journey to England.
     Alice the housekeeper, had met them as they made their way from breaking their fast in the smaller of two halls, where rush lights had lit the scene of a hastily consumed meal. The main hall was used by the count when in residence, for important business dealings & entertaining high ranked officials that sometimes visited Chillon.
     Matilda & Catherine paused as Alice swept up to them full of concern, realizing that it would soon be time for their departure not knowing  when, if ever, they would return.
     'It is nearly time for you to leave. Have you made ready both of you?' She handed them small parcels of food wrapped in a cloth. 'I have prepared these ere you leave, something you may need later,' she added, looking from one to the other, checking they were suitably dressed. Alice appeared anxious, having a certain fondness for them, although to both girls, often brisk & decisive in manner.
     Matilda answered first, smiling with the thought of what lay ahead. 'Indeed we have Alice, is it not a blessing the weather is set fine? At least our departure will be easier for it.'
     'There's nothing worse than having to ride in heavy rain,' retorted Alice. 'Mantles often get soaked through & cold to the touch.' Alice gave a slight shiver. 'Many a time in my younger days the rain would never abate, roads flooded becoming slippery, mud spattered clothing, always difficult to clean. No, I'm glad it's not me accompanying you.' Once more she glanced at them, her eyes filling with emotion.
     Catherine looked up at Alice from under her lashes, adding calmly, 'there is much travelling ahead, but thank you for what you have done for us. I will miss you.'
     Matilda stood next to Catherine, her brown eyes bright with anticipation, her long dark hair neatly braided, covered as was Catherine's. 'We will both miss you. We have not been told many details as yet, but no doubt our journey will be a long one. I thank you also...' Alice made to leave, with a sniff & a quick forward gesture, hugged both girls, much to their amazement. She had not been demonstrative in the past & often guided them as they grew up. She had been like a mother, scolding them too for their misdeeds when necessary. Her eyes were misty, cheeks flushed pink. With another sniff Alice stepped back, 'now do be on your guard the whole time. It is expected that you behave with...' A moment longer Alice turned & without a backward glance, walked away down a small passageway & was gone from sight.
     A message from Pierre was delivered at that moment. They were summoned to leave now, the morning progressing quickly, preparations nearing completion in the outer courtyard below. Both girls walked toward the exterior door that led to where the party was gathered ready to leave. As Catherine approached the horses, she noticed one young man in particular she had seen from the other side of the hall recently. She smiled to herself, rather pleased he would be accompanying them on the long journey. She later found his name to be William.
     When they arrived, horses were fidgeting while tw0 young grooms held their bridles. The sun for the June departure had climbed between two smaller mountain peaks, glowing pink into the early morning. Beyond the castle a light mist hung low over the silvery water of the lake. It swirled gently adding a ghost-like appearance as the mountains rose majestic beyond.
     The escort consisted of six men led by Pierre on a large bay stallion. Two extra pack horses were added to the group.
     As the young ladies approached, they were helped onto their horses where they settled into the saddles, the leather creaking, reins gathered up.  The party of men were mounted anxiously waiting, suitably equipped with swords at their hips, daggers carefully stored. 
     Pierre gave the command, it was time to depart. Both girls turned in the saddle taking one last look at the castle that had been their home for most of their young lives. Holding the reins carefully they motioned for their horses to move forward over the drawbridge  crossing the moat. Each animal clattered over the wooden bridge & entered the path beside the lake. Both Matilda & Catherine felt nervous with anticipation ere the journey began for it would be a long one, the way difficult in places, crossing an expanse of sea before reaching England. Both knew there was an adequate escort led by Pierre who conducted himself with authority, giving them confidence needed for the long journey ahead. 
     They soon passed many local farms & villages, winding along narrow tracks through woodlands, passing streams sparkling with sunshine. After several hours Pierre signaled to stop for necessary rest & a brief meal. The girls needed to adjust to long days in the saddle, soreness already apparent as they dismounted slowly. As their mounts were tied up, immediately heads went down to eat the lush grass. They had been watered earlier when fording a stream. 
     The sun was now much warmer, the food prepared earlier by Alice, consumed by Matilda & Catherine with relish as they fell upon it in a shaded area, chosen for its safety from prying eyes. From a short distance away Catherine had noticed the young man looking in her direction. She glanced up briefly before lowering her eyes once more.
     The first night was spent in a small abbey affording several guest rooms for travelers. Pierre had known about it in advance.
     Many days were put behind them as the party headed north west where it was possible they may encounter bands of rebels intent on political gain where they would rape & pillage, taking hostages & demanding ransom. Pierre was aware of any dangers, often sending a scout up ahead to check for safe passage. Care was taken with the chosen route, the men always on their guard for any trouble.
     One afternoon as gentle rain fell, they were nearing the end of the day in dim light, dark clouds were approaching from the south west obscuring the sun. A storm was apparent as the party were passing through a deep woodland, necessary in avoiding busy roads where they had been warned of possible danger. The light was fading, trees darkened their way even more as they penetrated the depths still further. Both girls gave a shiver with the quietness surrounding them. 
     There appeared an eerie silence when Pierre felt an unease not experienced before. He raised his arm, motioning for the riders to be on their guard. Hands went to sword hilts & the atmosphere became tense. Both Catherine & Matilda felt afraid for the first time, wrapping their cloaks tightly around them, feeling the fear now settling over the whole group. It was decided to continue in order to reach their accommodation before nightfall, when suddenly Pierre & several of the men heard a sword being drawn from its scabbard. They paused & listened when, without further warning, several figures appeared from the trees, swords raised.
     Cries went up as they advanced on the party of men, the two girls being safely surrounded. Pierre motioned to the men to draw swords to prepare for whatever attack they would encounter.  Matilda shuddered & tried not to call out. Each man faced an enemy coming at them with fierce intentions, raised their swords in readiness, not knowing the numbers of their attackers.
     As they were set upon from several directions, Pierre shouted to his men to defend themselves with whatever means possible. The fighting began as the ambush was upon them, men screamed & swords clashed as the full force of the blades rang out. Pierre's men had been trained in the art of combat, they knew how to account for themselves in the melee, dealing out blows that surprised their attackers.
     However one of the men, Henry, was not quick enough & took the point of a blade tip in his shoulder, whereupon the blood started trickling down his arm & chest. Managing to remain in the saddle his sword arm unaffected,  blade on blade fighting continued. Each man warding off at least one of the attackers with speed & efficiency fearless in their quest to gain the upper hand, their sword arms parrying the blows well. As swords were wielded crashing through the air, it was apparent their attackers were weakening, as on foot they were disadvantaged. Henry was starting to tire as more blood seeped from his wound, but bravely he continued. 
      The men surrounded the young ladies protecting them from all angles. Catherine noticed William close by, wielding his sword fiercely & with great accuracy, for one attacker in particular had set upon him with intensity. William having the upper hand, managed to bring his blade down hard, slicing off the hand of his opponent whereupon the man screamed, dropped his sword writhing on the ground in agony.
     A few moments later another attacker noticed a gap between the horses, the edge of his blade had caught the leg of Catherine & she felt it immediately, shocked as to the suddenness of it.  She gave a cry as pain started to overtake her, feeling  unsteady in the saddle she tried in vain to remain upright. As she started to slump, Pierre glanced over at that moment, caught her as she was gripped with dizziness. 'Dear God no!' he called out, noticing  the blood trickling down Catherine's leg & motioned to another man to help her. Matilda looked on with fear & froze as she watched Catherine being pulled from her horse, blood increasing from the wound. 
     The men fought continuously warding off their violent attackers.  Sharp steel blades cutting & slicing, blood spurting as limbs were hacked, swords thrust where possible to gain the upper hand by Pierre & his men as being mounted gave them an advantage. Pierre wielded his sword with dexterity, having no choice at that moment but continue in the throng. His attention never wavering, he steered his horse into position for a final thrust, thereby finishing off his opponent with one last cry, bringing down his sword with such ferocity. He immediately turned as another man was coming at him from a different angle. He dealt the man a vicious blow to his head stopping him dead in his tracks, never to fight again. 
     All the men apart from Henry, who had taken a sword tip to the shoulder slowing him considerably, were able to continue regardless, conducting themselves with enough skill, overcoming their attackers who had ambushed them with a view to unsavoury rewards. Slowly they had managed to cut them down, many were either dead or in agony.
     Eventually the fierce fighting came to an end as Pierre & his men sank back in their saddles, tired & relieved. Their attackers were either dead or retreating back from whence they came, beaten in their quest for quick riches.
     Pierre immediately turned his attention to where Catherine sat propped against a tree. He dismounted & walked over to where William looked anxious as he tried to stop the bleeding, glanced at the approaching Pierre who asked, 'how does she fare? I'm desperately concerned for her welfare & need to know the severity of the gash. Is it serious?'
     William turned to him as he crouched down still trying to apply pressure to the bleeding wound. 'It looks deep & should be stitched. If we can stop the bleeding, cleaning it well applying a poultice & bandage, she may be able to continue riding.'
     Pierre bent down & looked more carefully. Catherine was quiet, pale of skin as she glanced from one to the other.
     'I'm sure I'll be able to ride' she answered timidly.
     'It may be the moment to tell you something I have been holding back for longer than I care to remember.' Pierre began slowly at first, 'Catherine, my dear, I am your long lost father. I care about you & Matilda. Yes, she is my daughter too. You are sisters & I love you both dearly. I'm worried that it may come as too big a shock at this moment, but feel the time is right. I can not withhold this any longer. I had my reasons to keep it a secret for so long & one day soon I will tell you the reason. For now, we must get you better & if possible back on your horse. How do you feel? Do you think you will be able to continue? I'm sorry if I've shocked you my dear, but I was very worried to see you had been hurt.'
     Catherine remained motionless  slumped against the tree, her emotions in turmoil, not sure what to say at this moment. She paused a while longer trying desperately to choose her words, but they wouldn't come.   
     'I..., you..., you are my, our father? After all this time...?' Her thoughts were confused, her inner thoughts hesitating, she looked up slowly to see his kindly expression gazing down at her. At that moment Matilda had dismounted & walked over to where Pierre was talking quietly to Catherine. She looked up at the approaching Matilda & said, 'Pierre has just told me something of great importance to us both.' She paused, wondering how to continue. ' He is our father. Yes, Matilda, you & I are not only friends, but sisters. I don't know what to say...' Catherine looked at Matilda & saw the amazement on her face, at the reaction it caused. Matilda seemed suddenly quiet, not finding the right words to express her feelings at that moment.
     Pierre stood up, facing Matilda square on. 'Yes Matilda my dear, I am your papa & have loved you both since you were born. There have been reasons why I couldn't tell you long ago, but when the time is right, it will be so, we can all have many talks together.
     Matilda felt more surprise than shock at that moment as she looked up at Pierre with his brown eyes & dark hair.
     'It was me Matilda, who gave you that pendant you wear around your neck. I gave it to you on your fifth birthday. Do you remember? No, perhaps you don't. You were very young at the time.' Smiling gently at Matilda, Pierre looked at her. 
     'You are my father?' she asked slowly, trying to take in the past fourteen years of her life, remembering only very little from her childhood. 'But why didn't you...?
     'I'm sorry Matilda, I had my reasons, but I care deeply about you & Catherine, needed to tell you here & now. That is why I saw fit to accompany you to England. You will both be in my care the whole way. My brother, your uncle, awaits our visit & it is with him & his wife you will both be living for the time being.' Pierre looked down at Catherine again & said, 'they live in a fine manor house in Wiltshire, close to the Dorset border. It is a very long way to travel, but you will be well looked after from here on. No more trouble, I assure you.'
     Although still very anxious for Catherine, he looked down  gently continuing. 'Now my dear, lets get this leg seen to & hope you can ride once more. Its necessary we carry on a little longer, it will soon be dark. Matilda, would you give me a hand, we can talk soon, but Catherine needs our help for now.'
     Matilda feeling stunned, her feelings still very confused, nodded to Pierre who smiled at her. Together they lifted Catherine to her feet, the wounded leg not yet taking her full weight. William was there looking on feeling concerned, ready to give assistance if required. He had heard everything the three had imparted to one another & didn't want to intrude on their privacy. He backed away slowly to wait with the others.
     'How does that feel?' asked a concerned Pierre. 'Can you put your weight on the leg yet?'
     'I..., I... think so' replied a hesitant Catherine. 'The pain has ceased & I feel much better thank you.'
     'Now then, do you think you can sit upon your horse again? We can lead you, just as long as you remain upright, it won't be long before we find accommodation for the night.'
     Matilda looked carefully at Catherine, then down at her leg realizing all the time that she was her sister then again at Pierre. Her thoughts & feelings were beginning to untangle from what had been a mystery for so many years. She felt concern & love for Catherine  asking her. 'Is there anything I can do? Think you can ride Catherine?'
     Catherine was feeling better with every moment, given several sips from a wine skin Pierre had offered. The bleeding had stopped & wound bound carefully.
     'Yes, I'm sure I'll be able. If..., if I could be helped to mount, we can continue. It's certainly getting dark now.'
     'Good girl,' said Pierre smiling at her. 'Then let's get you up as soon as possible & we'll continue.'
     Matilda made her way to a waiting horse, the whole party were once again mounted, moving off keeping close together. Henry had been seen to, his deep gash cleaned & covered. Edward, an assistant to Pierre, had been competent in the treatment of gashes & deep wounds, had taken a look at Catherine before they proceeded. Confident that all was well, they were underway again. Shelter was sought as soon as possible. The leading man called that he had just noticed a large abbey ahead, they could make it in time before nightfall.
     With relief, Pierre made it known they would accept any accommodation that was available providing it was clean & adequate for their needs. 
      Fortunately the storm did not affront them & passed nearby as they rode into the stable area of an old abbey. Here they reigned in their horses & started to dismount.
     Matilda & Catherine had been terrified earlier, now  feelings of relief & tiredness overwhelming them.  Catherine was helped to dismount, her horse taken by one of the men. They had arrived without further incident, safe in the knowledge their plight was over, nobody had been badly injured or killed.
     It had been an eventful day, one that will remain in the mind of Matilda as she already pondered many questions forming in her mind. Her heart too,  was in a state of  bewilderment, but happy in what the day had brought. She now had a father, a sister too. Exhaustion was overcoming her, they had been in the saddle a long time. - quietly she contemplated the future as indeed it would be very different to the past. For both girls, today will be one to remember for a very long time.