Chapter 1

The Circle Of Nobles

Adelaide sat on her bed. It was well into the night but she refused to sleep. She was upset by her father's sudden departure and promised herself not to sleep until he returned. Sir Devereux was a commander of a large army and he was always dashing off to help his country. Adelaide was proud to have such a brave father, however, she was in constant fear of something happening to him. Nevertheless, she kept calm and eagerly awaited his return. Little did she know of the chaos at that very second.

Elsewhere, Sir Devereux rode onto the grassy plain, somewhere in the southeast of England. The air was full of the cries of soldiers. The peaceful night was disturbed by the sounds of metal crashing against each other. Lord de Clare rode to Sir Devereux, already out of breath and tired.

'Sir Devereux. Thank goodness you're here. The king, he's been captured!'

Sir Devereux nodded and said, 'I know. This opposing army, who is the leader?'

Lord de Clare reluctantly said, 'We are not sure. It seems there are four in charge but this is not yet proven.'

Sir Devereux looked up and said, 'Where are the other noblemen?'

Lord de Clare called to his attendants and said to Lord Devereux, 'In the tent. Come.'

They jumped off their horses and walked to the tent, their armour shining in the light of the moon.

Sir Devereux entered into the tent. It was only a temporary shelter. A group of nobleman sat in a circle, examining a map in front of them which rested on a table in the middle of the circle.

Lord de Clare addressed all the men and said, 'I'm sure you all know of Sir Devereux. He has come to our aid.'

A Lord stood up and said, 'Sir Devereux, good to see you again. However, our country has gone from one of peace to one of chaos on this day. It is hardly the time for pleasantries.'

Sir Devereux looked at the map and said, 'What are our tactics?'

Another Lord stood up and said, 'We've tried to keep them at bay for now. When the sun rises, we shall leave for negotiations, apart from Sir Longarm and Lord Woolsack, who will guard the battlefield until our return.'

Sir Devereux replied, 'Then I shall come with you. I will go to prepare now.'

As the night grew darker and colder, Sir Devereux sat in his personal tent writing a letter. The candle flickered as he wrote. He tried to keep a straight face but sadness stood in his eyes, her cold fingertips encouraging him to shed tears. In all his pride, he resisted her and thought about Adelaide, his dearest daughter.