To Touch The Knight Read Online Free PDF

language.
    â€œMy lady? Was that a new prediction?” Sir Dew/Tancred lowered his head to her, eager to hear more.
    â€œIt was a prayer, for you and for Sir Jade,” she replied blandly.
    â€œI need none.” Rude and coarse as his interruption, Sir Jade let go of her hand and stalked straight ahead of her, putting his mossy figure directly in her way. “Should you not be divesting yourself, Lady Jade? That is, if you have anything you can remove without causing a riot.”
    â€œIt is for the lord to go first,” she answered, inwardly seething. She knew the brute only spoke his thought, that all he said was only what the other men thought, but none had been bold enough to speak before him. To have it flung at her was profoundly irritating. Feeling the blood pounding into her face, she was glad of the veil.
    â€œIs that indeed the custom of the East? Here it is a lady’s privilege, but I will grant your wish.”
    He swept her a mocking bow, tumbling off his baggy costume at the same time. When he straightened, seeming taller and rangier than ever, he was already pointing. “Now you, Lady Jade.”
    She had anticipated this, and deftly removed the green face-veil to show off the primrose yellow veil beneath. Handing the delicate cloth to Sir Dew/Tancred, who received it with a genuine bow, she smiled up at her unknown knight of the stream. “See? I have done my part, my lord.”
    There was a rush of applause from more onlookers, and a shout of “The Lady of Lilies!” before both died away. Her knight said nothing, but he looked almost as grim as he had by the water, when she had glimpsed that ancient grief. Still without speaking, he turned away and strode off, marching in the direction of the stream where, only that morning, they had met together in peace. Sir Dew/Tancred, meanwhile, was staring desperately at the far horizon, as if he longed to be elsewhere.
    â€œWill you escort me to my seat?” she asked softly.
    He did so, silently and courteously, taking care she had sufficient cushions and that the awning over her head was to her liking, and she burned with shame.

Chapter 4
    Sir Tancred’s armor was hotter than his own, and lighter. As his squire buckled on the older knight’s sword, Ranulf felt as if he was wearing a burning eggshell.
    The man had kept his word, though; he had swapped armor and horse for the day. As the black knight, Sir Tancred had retired to Ranulf’s tent, giving out that he was unwell. In these days of pestilence, such a message ensured he would have no visitors.
    â€œI will sleep,” Sir Tancred had said, shaking Ranulf’s hand. “There is sure to be feasting and dancing at the castle later, and I would be fresh for that.”
    Ranulf, a trickle of sweat already dripping down his back, now ran his ungloved hand over the neck and back of Sir Tancred’s gray charger, allowing the horse to smell and feel and become accustomed to him. The horse, which Sir Tancred said was called Hector, was rather better than the nags Ranulf had seen with the knight at previous tournaments. When he remarked on Hector’s good looks, Sir Tancred had been quite open and unabashed about how he had acquired the beast.
    â€œYes, I know he is fine, and it is all down to my Lady of Lilies. She brought me Hector.”
    â€œAnd from where had she such a horse?” Ranulf had asked, but he was given no answer. Sir Tancred had been keen to praise the princess and nothing else.
    â€œEasy, lad, easy, great Hector.” Ranulf coaxed the horse, stroking him over, lifting and checking each of the charger’s huge hooves in turn. Hector had put his ears back once and then settled; in spirit he seemed as easygoing as his master.
    â€œWhich is why that Princess can wind him like a ribbon round her finger,” Ranulf grunted into the horse’s chest. He was boiling in this wretched plate and mail suit, though the mail was a