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linger here too long.”
    And with that, he picked up his helmet from the ground and clamped it onto his head. He mounted his horse and then looked down at me. “Well? Coming?”
    I didn’t know what he expected me to do, so I just looked up at him.
    Finally, he reached down his hand and pointed to his foot. “Just put your foot on mine and climb up. Never done this before?”
    “N–no.” I had never ridden a horse in my life.
    “Oh, well, it’s easy.” He reached his hand out for mine once more.
    I followed his directions and swung myself up behind the knight, straddling the horse. It wasn’t easy or entirely comfortable. My long skirt bunched up around my knees and I wondered how indecent I looked with a good portion of my legs showing for anyone who cared to see. On the other hand, we were riding through the forest and there weren’t very many other people about—none, in fact. So I supposed it was all right.
    I nearly fell backwards as the horse began to move forward but saved myself only by grabbing onto Sir Dagonet’s shoulders.
    “Off we go, wot, wot?” the knight said cheerfully.

Chapter Seven
    F ather du Lac entered the king’s privy chamber. King Edward was leaning over his table studying some papers. His finger traced lines along the page, but clearly he was not happy with what he saw.
    “I beg your pardon, your majesty,” du Lac said quietly.
    The king stood up, his intense concentration shattered.
    His startled look dissolved into a welcoming smile when he saw Father du Lac hovering by the door. “Father! Come in, come in. I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you. Did you knock?”
    “I did, your majesty,” du Lac said, bowing low before his king—the sweet, enthusiastic boy he had watched grow from the time he was born to the day when he was crowned king, less than six months ago. It had been, of course, a bittersweet day for du Lac. He had known and loved the king’s father, the great King Alfred, unifier of these British Isles. But now it was Edward to whom he owed his allegiance.
    “And what can I do for you, Father?” Edward asked, strolling casually forward. “Are you ready for that Bishopric I offered you?”
    Father du Lac laughed. “No, Sire, I thank you.”
    “Ah, then it is land. You have finally come to ask for a piece of land for yourself so that you can enjoy your old age as you should—in comfort.”
    “No, you are too kind, truly.” Du Lac raised his hands to dampen the young king’s enthusiasm. He was always trying to get du Lac to take his favors, but honestly, the old priest had no desire for such things, as the king well knew. “I am happy to be in your court, Your Majesty, for as long as you will have me.”
    The king’s eyes crinkled in happiness even as his lips turned down in mock anger. “For as long as I will have you? Why, that would be for as long as you live! I don’t know what I would do without you looking out for my soul, Father, and reminding me of the importance of being humble in the eyes of God. You are an inspiration to me and my solace.” His voice dropped to barely a whisper. “And to whom else could I confide my deepest fears without concern that they would be broadcast throughout the court?”
    Father du Lac spread his hands, welcoming of the king’s confidence. “I have concern for little else than your eternal happiness.”
    Edward, always very clever and aware of the smallest nuance, raised his eyebrows. “Concern for little else, Father? Then there is something else that concerns you? Out with it.”
    Father du Lac bowed his head and tried to hide his smile at the king’s quick—wittedness. But then his true reason for having disturbed his majesty this morning came to the forefront of his mind and all of his amusement drained from him in an instant.
    He lifted his head and looked the king directly in the eye. “Sire, I am only concerned about one other thing—it is something I feel is extremely disturbing. Something that needs your