‘A Song of the Times’, 1272-1307 We rose and had reached the door of the chapel when the alarm was raised; a hunter’s horn wailed, a funereal sound, proclaiming chilling news. Other horns took up the call. Along the gallery outside pinpricks of light appeared, and the crash of doors being flung open shattered the silence. A royal serjeant-at-arms came running in through a postern door leading from one of the courtyards. He’d lost his helmet, the chainmail coif pulled close around his head, dark red cloak trailing. He stopped when he saw us and, staring wide-eyed, raised the horn to give another blast. Isabella told him to be quiet as the entire palace was now aroused. She curtly demanded the cause of the disturbance. The soldier, breathless, simply pointed, then led us back into the courtyard, now ablaze with lantern flame. Retainers and soldiers gathered in a pool of torchlight around a body sprawled in an ugly, crooked fashion on the paving stones. I forced my way through, Isabella shouting orders that others stand aside, and I crouched before the corpse of Sir Hugh Pourte.
What do You think about Mathilde 01 - The Cup Of Ghosts?
