Far above the princess, through countless layers of rock and stone, two sentries on guard at the castle's main entryway abandoned their previous pursuit of leaning on their poleaxes. They put their backs to the two massive spindles flanking the roadway, slowly raising the stout portcullis. From above them, trumpeters on the battlements heralded the arrival of the outlanders.
From over a low rise came the company of men. They passed through and between the throngs that had gathered in the fields below the castle walls, and were met with cheers as they passed. Many of the champions who marched with the outlanders took note of many men throughout the crowds who cheered not, but instead cast surly looks at them. They champions recognized the hardened faces of warriors, and though they spoke not of it between themselves as they passed, each marked it down in his memory.
The great tower clock struck ten bells as the chieftain Tymrilll slowly rode under the portcullis and arched sally port and into the great interior courtyard of the castle. His mount breathed thick fog in cool morning air. From 'round the primary and secondary battlements, the courtiers and citizens and soldiers of the Queen cheered the newcomers.
"Hail Champions!" "20 gold pieces on the red-armored lance!" "Blackshield shall dominate any swordsman!" Cries of jeer and adulation roared all around. Painted ladies of the court hooted and called with hungry lips to their favorites behind batted eyelashes.
At last the entire company had filed into the great courtyard, and stood waving to the crowd from their horses. Some flexed muscles for ladies, some made mad faces at children before breaking into hearty smiles, some held aloft their bright blades.
The crowd roared and cheered. And all at once, the deafening noise fell to a hush. High above them, the great Queen glided out onto her balcony and regarded the gathered crowd and the company of heroes assembled below.
Many of the champions stood dumbfounded, staring up open-mouthed at the vision who had appeared on the high balcony. She was resplendent in a long, flowing white gown. It was cinched tight at the waist, and her breasts filled it in a most appealing way. All thoughout the shimmering garment was woven gold and silver strands, and she positively gleamed in the morning sun. She raised her elegant hand and gave salute to the men assembled.
"Hail, worthy Champions!" said she in a powerful and regal voice. "Our realm is most honoured by your presence. Please, set feet upon our ground, and be welcome."
A new cry of cheer went up from the crowd. The Queen continued on, commanding the rapt attention of everyone.
"Our doors are always open to the Kinsmen of Our King, Comrades in arms! Imprisoners of the great and terrible dragon, we bid you most welcome!"
The roar ascended once again, thundering about the walls of the courtyard and beyond. At last they died down, and the great chieftain spurred his mount forward a few steps, retuning salute to the Queen. "Hail, mighty Queen! We, your Kinsmen are most pleased to return to these lands, and are most honored by your welcome! Twenty and five years have gone past since the last Tournament of the High Moon, and we rejoice with all who are gathered, and will stand with you this very night for the Rite!
The crowed roared again, many of the champions sending up laughing calls and whoops. "And don't forget the Revel, my lord!" cried many of his men! The gathered crowd laughed heartily with them. At last, quiet returned and Tymrilll finished his pleasantries.
"And so, mighty Queen Belladonna, we, your Kinsmen, salute you! Long may you reign in peace and beauty!"
Even the Queen's elegant hands could not quell the great cheer which went up. It's roar was resounded by the multitude assembled 'neath the castle walls. The cacophony of mingled sound ranged out for many, many minutes.
After an age, the Queen restored the peace, softly soothing the crowd back to her attention. At last, she spoke once again.
"We thank Tymrilll, the great Bear Chief, for his hearty words of kindness."
"We have prepared fine ground for the Games. Come, please be welcomed. Our stable hands will see to your mounts, our cooks shall see to your bellies, and a great many of my ladies in waiting and the ladies of court will be very glad to make your acquaintances later tonight at the Revel. At the tolling of twelve bells, the Games begin!"
- - -
The Queen was true to her word. As she smoothly glided out of view aloft, stablehands took the outlander's mounts and led them away. Fresh hay was brought, and coats were brushed. They braided colorful bands of fine cloth into their manes and craftsmen saw to their shoes and saddles.
The men were immediately set upon by well-wishers and glad-handers. Hearty claps on the back and mighty guffaws of laughter and good cheer greeted them. Flagons of mead, fresh fruits, wines, soft cheeses and breads, all were happily brought forth. Jokes and stories and news of the outside world was exchanged with good humor.
Many of the men took but little to eat, preferring to complete without full bellies. But some of the beefy warriors took mead and wine and meat and bread, and ate heartily. Any who wished were led through the grounds, and pages and squires expounded on this and that, their tales growing taller than themselves.
Armourers took charge of the company's weapons and mail, sharpening arrows, affixing dullards to lances to avoid accidental skewerings. Swords were brightened, armour cleaned and polished until they gleamed like stars. Leather boots and girdings were mended, tunics sewn and patched with fine cloth. Each and all craftsmen to their duty, ordered to extend the utmost courtesy and hospitality to the Kinsmen of the King.
