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field, ladies," he said, eyeing his sister still poised before
the mirror. "Are you ready?"
    Genisa looked to Summer, a golden
goddess from head to toe. When the woman refused to answer, she sighed
delicately. "Aye, darling, we are ready. Aren't we, Summer?"
    After a moment's reluctance,
Summer nodded and set the brush to a table beside her. Clutching a delicately
embroidered handkerchief to stave off the unseasonable warmth, she smiled
bravely.
    "Aye Stephan. We are
ready."
    He smiled faintly, offering one
elbow to his sister and the other to his wife. Escorting the ladies down the
smoke-stenched corridor, they descended the wide stairs into the stone-walled
entry. Just as they dismounted the last stair, a rotund, cumbersome figure
emerged from the shadows in a harried burst of fine silks and wool.
    "Great Gods, ladies,” he
exclaimed. “The games are nearly ready to begin."
    Summer forced a smile at the
ruddy man, his sparse hair the color of her own. Releasing her brother's elbow,
she claimed the man's fleshy arm in a reassuring gesture. "Calm yourself, Father.
The games cannot b-begin without you."
    In spite of his agitation, Edward
du Bonne could not help but smile at his youngest child. The beautiful girl his
wife had perished giving life to, a child so delicate and lovely that he had stared
at her for three straight days after her birth in awe and wonder. A female
child completely unexpected after three healthy boys, so unanticipated that no
feminine names for such an occurrence had been discussed.
    Edward's wife had been positive
that her fourth child was male. After all, there was little doubt since the
three preceding pregnancies had resulted in a herd of strong du Bonne sons.
Therefore, on a warm summer's eve eighteen years ago, Edward had been faced
with a most pressing decision. Beyond the natural grief of losing his wife, he
was forced to select a name for the unexpected female offspring who had claimed
her mother's existence.
    The baron, unfortunately, was not
a clever or particularly attentive man. And he was in obvious lack of the concern
or energy to contemplate his new daughter's name. Giving the child over to an
older female servant and her spinster daughter, he delegated them the task of
naming and caring for his newest, if not particularly wanted, child. The two
aging women, unable to think of a properly suitable name and fearful of
displeasing the temperamental baron with a less than appropriate selection,
made the most convenient, if not logical, selection; Summer Evening du Bonne.
    A name, in fact, that was perfect
for her. She was as warm and beautiful as the summer months, soft and fresh and
radiant. Even now as the earl gazed into dark golden orbs, he could scarcely
recall ever seeing a finer creature. It was a cruel twist of fate that her
beauty was marred by a disturbing speech impediment, for she would have made a
very fine marriage match for the du Bonne family. Edward had resigned himself
to the fact that his beautiful daughter would never know the experience of
decent marriage, and for that he was truly sorry.
    The day was warming as the damp
sea breeze caressed the dusty grounds of Chaldon as Edward, Summer, Stephan and
Genisa quit the dark-stoned bastion and made their way outside. Summer's
delicious hair whipped about her like a frenzied lover and she struggled to keep
it at bay, knowing the over-brushed curls were vanished and wishing she was
married if only so she would have been able to net the unruly mass as Genisa
did. As a maiden, however, it was customary to keep one’s head uncovered to
show the beauty of a maiden’s hair.
    As the small party neared the
edge of the bailey, the tournament field came into focus and Summer forgot all
about her misbehaving hair. Her focus was completely on the distant cluster of
colorful tents, the faint hum of the crowd, and the thunder of the chargers as
knights took in a few bouts of last-minute practice.
    Somewhere in the distance, a lute
and