Royal aides took the four newly fledged knights to their living quarters. Each had a room prepared for their arrival. Etienne was led to his old chambers. The men were to get cleaned and dressed, ready for a banquet that had been prepared in their honour. Etienne entered his room. It hadn’t changed since last he left, and this comforted him. It was the shot of reality that he needed after such an extraordinary day. A bowl of fresh water had been set, and on his bed laid the ceremonial garments that he was to wear that evening. These were the clothes that he had seen his father’s knights in, and had dreamt that one-day he would be able to wear. He stroked the front of the tunic realising that his time had come. The clothes were beautiful; the tunic was brilliant white with a peacock blue sash with a gold trim. The family crest, a seagull perched on a castle, had been embroidered onto the chest by expert hand in golden thread. The strands caught the light and glittered giving a lifelike impression to the emblem. His father had told him as a child that the crest symbolised defence of freedom, a conviction that Etienne held true.
Etienne undressed and washed. It was a relief to finally remove the dirty clothes that he had been traveling in. As he poured the warmed water from a clay jug over his head, the drips that fell from his chin and long brown hair into the bowl that sat beside his bed, seemed to be taking with them the nervousness and trepidation that had been filling him over the past days. It was a warm evening and he walked naked over to his window to look out across the city. His strong physique silhouetted by the evening suns rays, depicted a Roman gladiator's moment of solace after a day in the amphitheater. He could make out in the distance the path he had just traveled; across the open land that separated the city from the forest, through the city gate. He squinted to see if he could make out the place where he had seen the girl. He had to find out who she was. He walked back to his bed and began dressing. The mail suit was heavy and uncomfortable, but the honour associated with wearing it far outweighed his discomfort. He put on his boots and sabatons, then his tunic, sash, and finally his sword and scabbard, and walked back to the window and watched the sun disappear behind the horizon. This was the beginning of his new life, the life of the heir to the throne, defender of his people.
There was a wrap on the door. Etienne opened it to find the other three knights ready and eager to get down to the grand hall for the banquet.
“Let’s go,” said Michel.
“Come in my friends,” replied Etienne opening the door further. “I have known you Michel since I was a boy, as I have with you Marcus and Luc." Etienne said looking at Michel's brothers. "Your father has been part of my father’s court since his coronation." Etienne put his hand on Michel's shoulder and continued. "It gives me great honour to be here today with you three."
"It is an honour for us too, and on behalf of us all, I hope that we can be half the men to you that our father has been to the king." Michel put his arm around Etienne and smiled. "Now come on, they are awaiting us."
Michel was tall and dark, much like Olivier, but he didn’t have the same confidence; although being the eldest he did have an air of authority over his younger siblings. Marcus and Luc in comparison were slight of frame. Marcus was the middle son but also shortest, much to the amusement and constant ridicule of his younger brother. They were both fair of skin, with similar drawn features. Both had the same impish glint in their eye often reinforced by their mischievous behaviour. As a four growing up, with Etienne as their lead, they spent countless hours searching the corridors of the castle for adventure. The four walked together down the long staircase that led to the great hall. As they reached the door they paused, had one last look at each other, and brushed down their tunics, before giving a nod to the guards signaling for the doors to be opened.
The doors were pushed open and they were greeted with a cacophony of noise. Cheers equal to what they had heard as they entered the city reverberated around the huge stone room, making the floor rumble as if a battalion of horses had simultaneously galloped past. Family, friends, dignitaries and all the knights of Avalon stood round the huge rectangular table that ran down the middle of the room. The walls of the great hall were decorated with tapestries and silks, and hundreds of candles lit a table of the most decadent banquet Etienne had ever seen. All glasses were charged with red wine, and the table sparkled as the silverware reflected the candlelight. Capons, geese, beef, lamb, salmon and herrings had been lavishly decorated and laid out next to pastries, bread and cheese. The four knights made their way to the top of the table where the king was stood on a raised dais. Places had been set for them, two on either side of the king. They walked along the side of the table shaking each person’s hand as they passed, receiving pats on the back and words of congratulations. They reached the king and he raised his hand to bring the room to silence.
“May we thank god for the food we are about to eat, and for the return of our loved ones.”
He addressed the room with a voice that made the silverware vibrate and chime on the table in front of them. The room replied with a chorus of ‘Amen’.
The king sat down followed by the rest of the party. That evening they ate and drank well. The king would ask questions to the four newly fledged knights of their training, and their anticipation about their new roles in the Kingdom. He told stories of what had been happening in Avalon since they’d been away and what plans he had for the Kingdom. Etienne was relieved to finally be back at his father’s side, and the previous months of worry had slipped from his thoughts. All he could think about was the girl he had just seen. He found himself daydreaming, having to ask his father to repeat questions to which he had not listened, whilst blaming the din of the room. He had to see her. The hall grew louder, and the night older. Etienne needed to make his escape. He wanted to find her, talk to her. He could see the wine was beginning to take its toll on the party and realised this was an opportune moment for escape. He excused himself from the table with the promise of a short return to which he had no intention of fulfilling. He made his way back along the grand table, this time staying in the shadows cast by the huge walls so as to not draw attention. Thankfully the door had been left a jar and he was able to slip through. He was free again. Without looking back Etienne ran down the corridor to the main castle doors, it felt like he had already wasted too much time. Then through the main doors and into the outer castle area, still without breaking pace.
A full moon illuminated the night sky, filling it with a thousand tiny shards of glass. The city was still and silent. His heart began racing again, the same way it had a few hours ago when he rode into the city, a rhythmic drum beat of expectation, a feeling that he was about to do something that was to change his life forever. He ran to the outer castle gates but slowed to a walk as he approached the guards so as to not draw inquisition. The last thing he needed was to give an extended explanation of why he was leaving the castle walls at this time of night. Etienne gave the guards a nonchalant nod of the head as if this was something that he did every night, and the guards let him pass without question. Outside of the gates Etienne stopped to quickly remove his mail suit, sabatons and sword. He stowed them in the shadows under a crate that sat against the castle wall. In just his boots and tunic he would be able to move with much greater pace. The stars observed his movements expectantly. He retraced the route he had earlier taken. It felt like days not hours had passed since last he came this way. He walked down the main street, which was now free of people and around the corner to where he had previously seen her. The streets were dark and empty but he knew his way instinctively. He had often walked these parts before when he was younger, always swapping his normal clothes for those of servants to disguise his identity. He loved the way it felt to be part of the city, a stranger in his homeland, to be one of the people who made this city the great place that it was. He looked at each of the houses that lined the streets hoping to spot a defining feature that signaled the home of the woman he had seen a few hours ago. Each house haphazardly placed as if dropped from the sky without instruction as to location or form.   Etienne loved the disorganised nature of the growth of the housing in the city. Each home had been built on whichever piece of land was available. Formed from the stone taken from the nearby quarry, that had eaten its way into the mountains that overlooked Avalon, and latticed wood cut from the forest. Both materials skillfully stitched together with lathe and lime plaster, and crowned with a roof of thatch to seal the house from the temperate elements. Each house loving built, on dreams of family and a desire to provide. Then he noticed the house he was looking for. As Etienne edged closer he began to make out its features. It was a small house so tightly squeezed between two others it seemed barely to have the room to breath, its thick stone façade only broken by two irregularly placed windows and a small wooden door.  He could see that there was a candle burning inside. He moved closer, not allowing his conscious to bring doubt, until he was next to the small window. Tentatively he peered through and noticed she was there. Sat in the small main room of the house next to the fire. On the table, beside where she sat, was a candle that illuminated the house, and threw a shadow across the side of her. She looked to be sleeping but Etienne couldn’t tell from his vantage. He stood frozen, watching her, time stood still. He didn’t want to move in case he woke or scared her; he just wanted to watch the vision in front of him. The beauty that Etienne had seen earlier had not been his in his mind. In this half-light she was dazzling, but the shadowy cloak she wore teased him, he wanted to see more. Should he tap on the door, leave her a message? He needed to make contact. Then she moved, sat up from her slumber and slowly turned to face his direction as if knowing he was there. The candlelight now fully lit her face. Thunder exploded in his chest. He held the wall to compose himself. She noticed Etienne’s face against the window and smiled at him.
She put her finger to her mouth to indicate for him to continue his silence and slowly stood. Etienne was in awe. He watched as she bent down to what looked like it could be a bed, but he couldn’t quite make it out as it fell into the darkness. She then rose again and made her way toward the door. As the door opened Etienne stood back so as to not alarm her. They stood facing one another; they didn’t need words, she held out her hand for him to take. It was delicate, soft; he held it as if he were holding a small bird, frightened to squeeze too tight.
She whispered, “Follow me.”
With his hand in hers she led the way, down to the bottom of the street, twisting and turning through alleyways he had never traveled before. The pace was quick and the sense of adventure enchanting. They stopped at an old part of the wooden city wall that hadn’t been replaced with stone yet, it appeared to Etienne to be a dead end. She leant forward and pushed one of the large vertical palisades that formed the rampart. It moved, only a slight gap, but she was able to crouch and get through. Etienne struggled to follow as the hole was barely big enough to pull his frame through, but his motivation was great and eventually he found himself on the outside of the city walls. They were free.