A knight's tale pt1

Prologue

The city was shining beneath the morning sun. The tiling on the rooftops boasted red or brown, creating a cover that reached from the highest towers to the smallest houses. The pale blue sky, clear and bright with one or two passing clouds that contributed to the day’s beauty more than consisting a threat. Long, white and golden flags waved at the houses’ and the towers’ balconies and seemed to dance to the various tunes that echoed through the streets.

 It was a day of celebration.

Plumed ladies of noble standing walked through the streets with their escorts, or were going about in their coaches enjoying the sight, mixing with peasants, shouting traders, and they smiled blushing, or left insulted at the song of a bard or the street poets’ rhymes. Smells of food from inside the houses and the streets, mixed with rare perfumes from the necks and bodies of the nobles. And as the day moved on, the crowd gathered as more and more people flowed to the centre of the stone square, and a celebrative rush covered everything.

 Noon was approaching when they crossed the great gates and the young man waved at the guard with the stern face. Despite the kind greeting, his appearance, that of a rogue, of a wanderer didn’t inspire any trust to the gate guard who simply motioned for him to move on. A beautiful, black-haired woman followed and disarmed the young soldier by giving him her most playful smile.

 The white sandals followed the boots on the stone street towards the central town square. He wore simple clothes, a pair of pants with the color of earth after the rain, and a loose shirt, dark green like moist, young leafs. His grey cloak was carelessly thrown to his back, while he also held something like a leather bag. The first thing that someone noticed on the young man was his hair, shining blond as if painted by gold, and then his eyes, small, non-human, strange, and always moving as if trying to see everything that surrounded him, as if trying to take a look at every little corner of the castle-city around him, so as to exploit every little detail of the space, to use every advantage he could find.

He looked young, early in his twenties, but those who met his stare tended to doubt that.

Because, in his eyes perhaps someone could see a passing spark, a fleeting image of all the years he had lived, of all the stories he had to say.

 Yet, this spark remained hidden as he moved to the central street, covered by a shadow over his beautiful face, making most of the stares fall on the woman that came after him.

 A great deal of her own beauty rested in her eyes. They were beautiful, well formed, dark eyes. And inside them, even if not so well hidden, a sweet melancholy waited making her even more attractive.

 The pair walked to the middle of the square winning with each step more and more stares, as their appearance of a common vagrant couple mixed with something strange, something eerie and magical.

 When they reached the centre of the square the air almost stopped. He looked around him, at those enjoying the festival, and silently met their stares. He turned then to the woman following him.

 “Here?” he asked.

“It seems alright” answered she.

 The young man smiled in content. He nodded at her then, as she went and leaned to a tree’s trunk, one of the old trees that shaded on the stone square. At the same time, the rogue, started to untie his leather bag. He reached inside with his thin hand and started to search. His certain look turned to an annoyed grin as it seemed that he couldn’t find what he looked for. His hand went inside till his elbow, and then all of it to his shoulder. Of the onlookers, those that watched his tries stood astonished as after his hand, his shoulder and also his head, until they heard a triumphant shout and the young man to reappear with a shining smile from inside the bag, that seemed to be barely able to contain a loaf of bread.

 This time, he held something that reminded the musical instruments that almost every bard in the city used – simply reminded for this was better, much better in every aspect.

It had the general shape of a pear, and it was made of ancient, dark wood, and silver metal which seemed to flow and mix with the organ’s main body, but without any evident sign of nailing or binding. On the contrary, upon the black speaker appeared stars of silver and a stream which passed among them and shone with their light. A unicorn galloped on the back side of the handle while in the front, a dragon also completely made of silver, opened his wings under the strings, flying towards the tower and the knight on the front side of the round speaker. On the tower’s window a princess waited for her dear.

Finally, around the organ, runic letters appeared and shone like fireflies in a dark swamp, and if the bard was asked he would say that it was a simple trick of light.

 The young man twisted the instrument in his hands, and caressed softly the strings with his fingers, making the instrument moan, that made everyone close to turn and look at him. He smiled sweetly at them and then tossed back his head, making, as his hair moved, his long, triangular ears visible. Only for a moment.

 Then he brought his hair forth again, and turning he send a kiss with his hand to the woman that waited a little farther from him. She smiled.

 Afterwards, the show begun.

The bard focused fully on the crowd. Busy, happy people, entertained themselves with the fair’s attractions and enjoyed the beautiful day. A few looked at him, but as he still hadn’t done anything to attract their attention most of them were elsewhere occupied.