Adelaide's Tale Part 1

Adelaide’s Tale: Part I

Lord Roald Norton and his nephew Roger rode through the countryside slowly, enjoying the summer’s fading light. Roald laughed at the boy’s foolishness and innocence of his eighteen years, which had been shown in the many stories told by him during their journey.
“Indeed, nephew, I would have never thought that one man could speak as much in one year as you have in this one day.”
“Forgive me, uncle. I am only excited to become a soldier in Lord Ashley’s unit. I can’t wait to begin training.”
“Never had I understood why one would be happy to go to war.”
“But you yourself are still a soldier.”
“Aye, but when I became one, I was even younger than you, and forced to join. Understand that I was not as enthusiastic then as you are now.”
Roger laughed and they rode on in comfortable silence. Some time later Roger rode up a distant hill only to call back to Roald.
“Uncle, come look!”
Roald reached the top of the hill to see the lights of the distant manor house burning bright in the twilight. Smiling, they rode toward the manor and toward their destinies.

The arrival of a war hero such as Lord Norton called for a feast, and so a banquet was held in the great hall of Ashley Manor the very night of their arrival. Roald was again amazed at how much his nephew could speak, and wondered how he could think or experience any of the things he spoke about. Roger was describing a strange visit to a French brothel when he realized that Roald’s eyes were not focused on him or his story. Roger turned to see what had taken his uncle’s attention. On the balcony above the great hall stood a group of women unfamiliar to him. In the center stood an older woman he took to be the lady of the manor. She wore a fashionable dress of wine red, and her gossamer wimple shone in the candlelight. Her face was not affected by her years, for she seemed as young as twenty in her manners and wit. Roger could see that the hair under her veil was still the darkest of blacks, unaffected by her age and her life.
Roger’s eye’s returned to his uncle, who was still fixed upon the woman on the balcony.
“Uncle,” Roger said, “close your mouth before the insects fly in.”
Roald blinked but did not respond to his nephew until the woman and her servants entered the upper rooms and left his sight. He looked at Roger and laughed as if nothing had happened.
“The only thing that will fly into my mouth will be more of this food.”
Roger laughed and slapped him on the back before continuing to eat. Roald laughed, but as the guests continued to watch the performers in the center of the room, he once again looked to the balcony.