PROLOGUE

Part one

Look … look quickly … for soon it will be gone and all you will have is the song …

The skylark

"There was once a king, powerful and rich, and he had a palace made from gold that the sun shone on every clear, blue day. And from far away, it would look as though it was another sun shining.

And this king wanted to take a wife. He had wasted half of his life building his beautiful palace and as the years marked his face he felt the need to give his palace a mistress.

But these were not good times for men in need of wives, for the earth was filled with dragons that would cast spells over beautiful maids and take them on their winged horses, through the sky and to the other land. The king tried in vain over and over again to find a wife but all of them suffered the same fate.

And then he found the young daughter of a neighboring king. She was but ten years old but he could still see that she would become the most beautiful creature the world had ever seen. Her long blond hair and her yellow eyes made her seem as if she had been torn out of the sun itself. The king took this girl and shut her in the upper part of the castle forf fear that she would be taken from him. Her rooms had iron doors and at every door there were guards with weapons. That was where she grew up. That was where she played with her servants and where she ate. She did not feel lonely, in her golden cage, for the first few years.

Her rooms had only one golden window that faced south and so from sunrise to midday to dusk she could watch the sun without hurting her eyes.

But in the beginning Lia – because Lia was the name of the girl – did not care much for the sun. Instead she played with her friends.

As the years passed and the girl grew, she stopped playing with them and remained seated in front of the window, often deep in thought.

"Do you not like playing anymore?" her friends asked her

"I do."

'Don't you like us anymore?"

"I like you as well."

"Let's find new games. Perhaps you are tired of the old ones."

"I am not tired."

"Well, if that be the case, why do you remain silent for hours, and not look at us?"

"I am not silent."

"What are you doing then?"

"I'm talking."

"But we don't hear anything."

"I am talking … but without words."

"Who to?"

"I don't know … perhaps to my heart."

When Lia's old nurse heard this she went to the now old king.

"It is time, master! She is ready."

"Are you sure?" the king asked with a glimmer of excitement in his eye

"Yes. The lady does not play anymore and she is always quiet and in deep thought."

The king was much elated. He had been waiting for this news for a very long time. The years were pressing hard upon him and he needed an heir. Once they were married his problems would be over. He would have the most beautiful wife in the land and the dragons would be powerless.

He sent hundreds of messengers throughout his kingdom to announce the great feast that would be given in honor of his marriage.

During this time, Lia's friends starting hearing her sing through the door, for she had excluded them from her chamber where she sat alone. It was a barely whispered song that made their hearts tremble.

Lia would sit in front of the window and sing. She was singing to the sun. And the sun stopped in awe of the great beauty of the girl and her piercing voice, until one day, when as dusk was quickly approaching, the sun transformed himself into a man and walked into the girl's chamber.

He smelled of fresh rain and linden blossom. His hair was like dripping honey and his skin was translucent alabaster.

"Who are you?" Lia asked, although she knew the answer all too well.

"I am Sol," he answered sitting with her in front of the window. He touched her hands. "Sing for me," he asked her.

She gave him a soft smile and started singing, raising her voice and touching his soul.

Weeks passed in this manner, with Sol visiting her just as dusk came and leaving quickly before night fell, until the day of the feast finally came.

Lia was brought to the large hall, where all the guests had arrived and were now astonished by the great beauty that the girl possessed. Truth be told, their eyes hurt as she passed in front of them. They felt as if they had been staring directly into the sun's light..

The king could not believe his eyes and rose enchanted by this vision. He took her hand and attempted placing the ring on her finger. But as he did that, Lia quickly pulled her hand away and ran out of the great hall, leaving the king and his guests dumbfounded. She ran through the long corridors, past the servants that desperately tried to reason with her to return to the hall. She climbed the stairs back to the tower, tripping over her long dress. She closed the door behind her and sat herself once more in front of the window, singing and asking Sol to come for her.

The king tried again. He tried for three days, and the girl's response remained the same. She had now given up speaking all together and simply stared out the window and sang.

With a heavy heart, the king called upon an old wizard known for his great wisdom to see what was wrong with his bride.

The old man looked at Lia, raised his thick eyebrows and sighed. "I think she is in love with the sun."

"With the sun?" the king questioned." You are an old fool!" he said, dismissing the idea.

The old man turned around and started heading for the door. When he had come here from his cave he could still see a little and had managed to find his way alone. Now he was completely blind.

"Give me a guide to get home," the man requested.

"But you came here by yourself."

"Yes, I could still see something then. But now, your bride had blinded me."

"You talk foolishness, old man."

"No, it is the truth. Your bride now seems torn out of the sun itself. Have you not seen this?"

"She has always been beautiful."

"As beautiful as this? To take a man's eyesight? To make an old man blind?"

The king sent the wizard on his way with a heavy heart and gave him the guide.

Spring was gone and then summer. Then autumn … It came, but the day did not shorten. It only increased and the heat became unbearable.

The sun would rise on time but would set later and later.

After a while, the whole world seemed to stand still. What was this? How had the natural order of things changed? No more autumn? No winter?

The workers were exhausted and the lords would not take them out of the fields until dusk. The priests started praying and the bells would never stop ringing. All day long, the fortune tellers would sit in the palaces of their kings trying to make out what to do.

Only Lia grew more beautiful every day and continued to sing, looking through the thin gold glass, towards Sol who cast his rays down on her, caressing her.

Upon seeing all of this, the king grew bitter and angry. He had loved her and taken care of her and this was how she repaid him? He got it into his mind to put a stop to it. He left his home and traveled over seven lands and seven rivers until he found the palace of the sun itself. This was where Sol's mother lived.

The world's cries had reached her ears long before the king. She would see her son arriving for bed increasingly late and would give no reason for this. But upon hearing this news, she knew she had to put a stop to it. So she followed her son when he awoke the next day.

Dressed in dark clouds, she went after him until she saw him stop in front of the king's golden palace. There he fixed himself upon the sky and moved no more, looking contentedly through the small golden glass window where Lia stood. Upon seeing him Lia smiled and started singing. Suddenly the air was filled with the sound of her voice and the sun exploded into a strong, searching beam at hearing his beloved.

When she saw this, the sun's mother flinched and shook, as if all the youth and beauty of the king's bride had entered her. Only she had been that beautiful … long ago when she had been a maid. It was no wonder her son had stopped to look at her. But it ws not only Sol who did not seem willing to move anymore. The old woman also forgot why she had come and sat to listen to Lia's song.

When she finally came out of the spell, the sun still had not moved and the world's moans reached her, reminding her why she had come here.

"So this is it!" she sighed." That is why he's late. If it were not for the world and its suffering, I would not do anything. She is beautiful poor girl, but I cannot sit idly watch the order of things changed for the entire world would be gone …"

And with teary eyes, the sun's mother cast a spell over her son, moving him further and away from Lia. Once he could not see her anymore, the sun started following his natural course.

Upon seeing this, the king greatly rejoiced and came to greet his bride in her room.

"He is gone" the king said with hopeful eyes. "But I am here!"

Lia turned to him as tears flooded down her face at the loss of her lover. She did not speak. She opened the window and in a moment jumped out, going after Sol.

But before she hit the ground, the sun's mother took pity on her and cast another spell. She transformed the king's bride into a small, grey bird and made it her fate to fly through the sky all through spring, straight towards the sun, enchanting him with her song forever … but she would always find him just out of reach.

The little bird burst into the air and the sun began his movements. And all of a sudden … autumn came with rains and harsh winds …"

Lia and Sol

1176 AD

The two bodies were laid over the wet grass, facing upward. The sun had not set yet and a few remaining rays fell over the chilling ground.

It was early March and still rather cold as was to be expected in this, the Northern part of the country but the children didn't seem to mind. They sat there as the wind rushed over them, looking at the sky.

Suddenly the boy jumped up: "Look, Lia! There they are!" he said and pointed towards a small flock of birds somewhere in the distance. The girl looked up as well and watched fascinated as the small, grayish birds made a dashing swirl through the air towards the sun. They flew closer and closer to it, seeming as if the last rays of the sun would engulf them and drag them down into the earth. They grew more daring and flung themselves into the open, bursting into song as if willing to enchant the sun into staying a little longer.

But the sun was gone, disappeared back into the horizon from which it would not wake until the next day. The birds remained there, flapping their wings and singing, as if hoping against hope that it would come back. A few moments longer and they understood their plight was useless. The flapping grew heavier and less energetic and the song was extinguished. They soon disappeared from the sky, back into the woods to lick their wounds and try again the next day. They were much like people, these birds … they never learned. It was in their nature to never give up hope.

Lia dropped her gaze back to the ground and sighed: "They didn't catch him this time."

"And they never will." the boy said, assuredly. "They're just little grey birds. Nothing more. They're not even that pretty."

Lia frowned and jumped to her feet. She turned her back on him and started walking. "I think they will," she mumbled. "One day they will."

He got up and started walking after her. He did not hurry, sure enough of the fact that his long legs would catch up with her brisk movements soon enough. "You're just a child," he said and shrugged. "You don't know anything."

"And you're a smug, tedious stinker!" She turned around and stuck her tongue out at him then quickly looked away and started walking again. The thin flower crown he had made for her hours earlier was now crooked on her head but she didn't notice.

He couldn't help but laugh at her reply and made two swift movements and promptly pulled at one of her plaits, as he was accustomed to doing ever since he could remember.

"Sol, stop it!" she said and pulled her plaits back in front of her. "Why do you always do that?"

He shrugged. He stood looking at her for a moment and then reached for the crown of flowers on her head, rearranging it in a less comical position.

She looked up at him as he did this, stretching her neck as far back as she could. He was so much taller then her now and thin as a feather. He was not very handsome, with his pointy ears and oblong face and his height made him look awkward, as if he could not find his center and was not sure what to do with his arms at times. He had been practicing with a broadsword and axe for the last 3 years and yet it had done very little for his lanky arms and legs, at least nothing that was visible with his clothes on. He had to hunch his back any time he wanted to walk through a door so he had become used to walking with his head dropped and looking at people from under one of his brows like he was doing now.

William de Bracy was much more handsome, she thought as if she was noticing it for the first time. He was just 2 years older then her but of a much stouter stock then Sol. He was shorter and heavier built, with strong arms and legs and a round head with permanently flushed cheeks that were a sign of a healthy, strong body.

Will liked her, she knew that. Every time he came to Sol's house he sought out her company. He would pick flowers for her and tell her jokes. He never made fun of her or pulled on her plaits, as Sol always did. He took everything she said seriously, as if she were a fully grown person and he often shunned his own friends just so he could talk to her.

Sol never did that. Most of the time he preferred being anywhere else but with her. It hadn't always been that way, of course. There had been a time when they did everything together. Not anymore, though. Not since the 5 year gap between them had seemed to get wider and wider.

However it did not seem like that tonight. As he removed his hands from the crown, he ran his fingers against her cheeks and brushed off a few strands of hair from her face.

"I'm not a child anymore, Sol. I will be 10 next month," she said holding out all her fingers.

"I know." He could barely hold in the smile at her choice of argument.

"And there's no reason to put on that cocky smile, either! Your mother was married when she was 12, Sol … 12."

"But you are not 12, Lia. Not yet, anyway," he said grabbing her hand. He started walking back, towards the manor that stood just over the hill.

"But I will be. And if you were to stay, perhaps …"

"So that's it, is it? You're still angry I'm going to leave."

"I don't understand why you're going."

"I've told you," he said, stopping halfway up the hill. "I'm going to become a man."

She rolled her eyes at that and began walking up the hill on her own, holding her skirts upwards and shoving her feet into the soft, muddy ground. "I still can't see why you couldn't become a man at the Huntingtons. It's just in walking distance from here and all your friends are there."

"I've already told you," he said, exasperated. "The Huntingtons were good to me these past 3 years but father wants better things for me. And so do I. The Earl of Durham is a powerful man. He holds the King's favor. He's also my father's cousin. He's bound to give me a position in time, to introduce me to men of rank and …"

"And to his daughter," she said turning around so swiftly that she sopped him in his tracks. "Your father wants you to marry her."

"Lia … you can't seriously think …We were promised in marriage 5 years ago. Everyone knows this."

"Promises can be taken back. And she is said to be very beautiful. And what of it?" she said, as if arguing with herself. She quickly wiped a tear with the back of her sleeve before going on: "Go marry your Maud. See if I care." She turned around and started walking again. "I'll marry William. See if I don't!"

This shocked him and he quickly came to her side, grabbing her hand and turning her around. "No, you won't! Don't even think about it, Lia. You promise me!"

"And if I don't?" she challenged.

"Promise me!" was the only thing he said. His eyes left no room for disobedience. They seemed to burn inside of her, both pleading and passionate. It shook her … this side of him she had not seen before. She instinctively understood that this was no longer her friend holding her by the shoulders but a man she didn't quite know but that claimed a certain possessive right over her. The notion both scared and enthralled her.

It was because he felt she belonged to him that he asked her this and she wanted nothing more then to belong to Sol … to please him. She found herself nodding. "Of course I won't. You know I could never …"

But he knew better. Despite what she said, Lia was still a child and a child's wishes and dreams swayed like the wind. He had them now, but would it always be this way? He didn't know exactly what he felt for her or what he was bound to feel 3 or 4 years from now but of one thing he was certain: he didn't want her thinking of bloody William de Bracy in that way. Or in any way, for that matter. "You must not speak to him again," he said as they began walking.

It was night now and the only light to guide them were the torch lights coming from the manor just in front of them. The fire cast a reddish light over her as she nodded, with her head bowed. "All right."

He stopped her just as she was about to open the gate. He held her hand between his own, rubbing his thumb against her skin. "You don't have to worry about Maud. You and I will be married when you come of age. I don't care what my father says. I promise, sweetheart." He spoke the last words in a whisper and lowered his head, kissing the inside of her small hand.

She blushed at the endearment. It was the first time he had used it and as they came into the light she saw he was blushing too.

As well he should. After all they were just children enacting an adult custom they barely understood. Tradition dictated that they act in this way but, as yet, it felt foreign and slightly out of place. Chasing birds or pulling on her plaits still felt like the right thing to do … and yet it was the last time they would ever do it.

"You will do as I say! You will marry her or else!"

"I won't! I've given my word to Lia and I mean to keep it," Sol said with all the authority his 15 years of age could muster.

"You will, damn you!" Richard said, grabbing the boy by the arm and shaking him. Sol was taller then him now but not strong enough to fight him. "I will not be defied by a boy!"

"He is right, Richard," his mother, Isabelle, intervened, speaking in a soft voice. "We have made a promise to her mother. It's as good as a contract between the two of them now. Remember that she entrusted the lands to you on account of them getting married when she came of age."

"Damn the contract and damn the lands! They were nothing but a nuisance anyway. Pack her things and send her to the nunnery with her mother."

Lia could hear them speaking in the great hall, from atop the stairs, even if they were whispering back and forth to each other. The low voices didn't make things any better. They were so filled with hate and rage that they might as well have been shouts for all the good they did.

Lia sat with her knees to her chest and listened. With every word her heart sank a little more until she was nothing but a mess of tears and silent sobs. She trembled, not so much from the cold that washed over her, but from the dread and anger. She bit on her nails until they were open wounds, willing herself not to give out a violent scream that would alert them to her presence.

"Her uncle is the Earl of Essex. We can't treat her that way," Isabelle tried again.

"And where is he?" Richard asked, mockingly. "He's never even seen the girl, much less contribute to her keep. I've had to feed her and clothe her since her father died 5 years ago while he's conveniently stayed away and taken care of his fortune in Nottinghamshire. He doesn't like the girl anymore then I do."

"You liked her well enough when you thought you could profit from her lands," Sol said, clenching his teeth.

"What did you say to me, boy?" Richard shouted, suddenly enraged and stood up from his seat, pushing the chair away from him. The sound made Lia flinch and she brought her hand up to her mouth to stop herself from screaming.

Sol wavered. His father's temper was a force to be reckoned with and when he drank he was as prone to violence as others were to celebrating and laughing. Still he went on: "You heard me. You were eager for me to take her when you thought there was gold to be found on her lands and now you've ruined them to the point that they're not fit to raise cattle on … And there's not one trace of gold anywhere."

"You sniveling little turd!" his father hissed. Sol knew well enough what came after and as his father's hand came crushing down on him, he closed his eyes and didn't move an inch. The slap was a mighty one and Sol hit the ground immediately. He ran his tongue over the bleeding lip and sat there as his father unfastened his belt.

"Richard, please! Don't!" his mother pleaded, coming closer to her husband. Even as she did this, her voice cracked, unsure as to whether she should say anything at all.

It seemed to calm Richard down a bit, though, as he lowered his belt. "You talk sense into him, woman! For I swear to God I will kill him," he said, still looking at his son.

"My lord, please. You must see … we are honorable people. We cannot do this." Her voice still held a rather strong French accent and the fear made the words tangle themselves in her mouth.

Richard turned around so quickly that it made Isabelle jump back in fear. "And you mean to say I am not honorable?" he hissed and raised his belt again, intent on hitting her.

Isabella gave out a cry and instinctively raised her hands to protect herself.

"No!" Sol shouted. He jumped to his feet and put himself in front of his father: "Leave her alone!"

For a moment Richard's raised arm stood still in mid air, dangling the belt. Then slowly the look of rage on his face changed … into something akin to hate and he lowered his hand. "Oh, how completely hers you are!" he said. "I … I try to make a man out of you and all I get is a whiney, weak, little idiot talking of love. Sometimes I wonder if you're mine at all. If she didn't breed you with some soldier in that God forsaken town in Normandy where you were born."

By now, Isabella had sat down in the nearest chair she could find and rested her elbows on the table in front of her, holding her face and sobbing violently. "How can you say such a thing to your own son?"

It was a preposterous thing to say and even Richard knew it. His son resembled him in everything, except in that which mattered most: obedience. That he kept safeguarded and away from him, using it when he saw fit.

And that Richard resented more then anything. After all obedience was a father's right, wasn't it? Hadn't his father demanded as much from him and hadn't he submitted? Hadn't he married Isabelle and her French connections because his father wished it so? And hadn't he been forced to give up the love of his life for it? Given up was not entirely true, of course. He had kept Nan as his mistress all these years and she had even borne him 3 children he loved more then anything. But still, he could not give them all that he would want them to have for in the eyes of the world they were bastards, forever marked, forever shortchanged. What he would not give to be able to offer Henry, his son, the opportunity he was now giving to this boy who seemed set on waging war on him for the love of a 10 year old girl and his narrow sense of duty. She's not even that pretty, he thought bitterly.

"He's not my son. He's a disgrace," Richard finally spat and took the goblet of wine from the table, drinking it all in an instant.

Sol swallowed back his pride and willed his chin from wobbling under the pressure of yet unshed tears. "Unlike Henry, I suppose …" was all he could manage to say.

"Aye! Now there's a good boy. I'm only sorry I married your mother instead of his. At least there I have no complaints."

Finally there was silence.

In that moment the sound of small, hurried feet could be heard from just behind the door. Bella ran down the stairs so quickly Lia was not able to catch her and she burst into the great hall with a large smile on her face. "Daddy!" she said and came straight for Richard, her arms already extended.

Richard turned around to look at his small daughter, who stood there barefoot, with her hair disheveled and could find nothing to say. "What are you doing up?" he asked eventually and his tone must have been very harsh indeed for the little girl's smile faded immediately. She was unsure of what to do and looked to her mother for assistance.

Isabella was still sobbing, although more quietly now and wasn't even looking at her. Bella turned to look at her brother who finally spoke to her: "Go on back to bed, Bella."

Still she didn't move. Not until her father took a step towards her and said not too kindly: "Well? What are you still doing here?"

The little girl turned around immediately and ran out of the room, Richard following to make sure she had gone up. There, atop the stairs, he saw her … the girl. That wretched girl.

She stood there holding Bella's hand, in her white, linen nightshift. He could see her bare legs trembling underneath, but her eyes were fixed on him, filled with fire and rage. They were large, black eyes that could drown a man's soul. Tears were streaming down her white skin like silver. She bit her lips to stop them from trembling and that only made them redder then they already were. Her hair was as black as night and trailed down around her, in an unbraided storm. He recanted his earlier thoughts on the spot. This was a face men had gone to war for.

"Ah, there she is!" he said taking a step towards her and stumbling, the alcohol raging through his body. "The she-devil herself!" He measured her from head to toe again … this wretched girl … this girl that seemed so afraid of him. "Just like her mother … a witch!"

Lia flinched. This was unlike him. She knew Sir Richard hated her but he had never been rude before. It must be the wine. Next day, without fail, he would seek her out and apologize. Then politely tell her it would perhaps be better, for the moment, if she were to visit her mother at the convent.

As she opened her mouth to speak, she saw Sol step out of the room and shake his head at her willing her back to silence. "Take Bella back to bed," was all he said and she bowed her head and did as she was told.

Richard spent another moment looking after the girl then headed for the door. He picked up his cloak and was about to leave when his son stopped him.

"Father …"

"Let him go." Isabella said, putting her hand on her son's shoulder. "Let him go back to his whore."

Richard's eyes hardened. "Better a whore's bed then yours, wife," he said before slamming the door.

July 1178 AD

My dearest Sol,

Sol … when was it that I first called you that? … Oh, yes! I remember. I was five and we were hiding under the table, at the Hunttingtons. The night before, my mother had told us the story of the skylark, do you remember? There, under that table you announced that I was Lia and that you would let no one tear us apart. That when you were old enough you would marry me.

And I've held fast to that promise … wasn't that silly? A promise you made under a table, with sticky hands and cheeks from too much stolen honey. I realise now that whatever it is that is holding us together is not as strong as I once thought. It is entirely dependent on our relationship as people.

That is why I grow anxious whenever I don't hear from you. I understand why you don't write more often. Or, better yet, my mind does. It tells me that you must be busy making a life for yourself, becoming the man that you dream of being and that I await even as I write this. But my heart … oh, my heart, dear Sol … it's a treacherous thing. It betrays me at every turn.

You see, I find it an unfair thing that men go out and see things, do things, learn how to be a part of the world where we women are forever on the outskirts of it. I'm not proud of this confession and I would not make it to anyone else but you. Locked up between the walls of this convent, I find the days dragging on endlessly. It suffocates me knowing how much of life is just beyond the borders set by these stones and that I am removed from it. You are there, though. In the middle of it or at least in the middle of mine … my world, that I, myself, seem to be removed from. It must be a cruel fate that makes people willingly enclose themselves in here. I don't know how my mother can stand it. All I know is that if I were to believe this to be the rest of my life, I would go mad.

Forgive me for these words. God knows it upsets me terribly to always write to you of sad things but you are, still, the only person that I can talk to.

I was reading a passage from the Bible today. I know it was wrong but, as I was practicing my Latin I could not help myself. It said that love should not be selfish. I took that to heart because I know I have been selfish with you. I have held you tightly to me because of your promise and what I wanted and I haven't stopped to think of what you might want. I haven't thought that perhaps my chains are suffocating you in the same way these cold walls are suffocating me. The last thing I want is for you to suffer, least of all by my hand.

From now on think of yourself as free … to do what you will. I cannot hold you captive and claim to love you at the same time.

As always,

your Lia

August 1178 AD

Ma belle,

I write these words in a hurry. We've been practicing all day and the messenger leaves within the hour.

Forgive me for not writing more often and forgive me for thinking you know my heart when you are so far away from me. Never give me up, Lia! Remember the skylarks. They never give up hope. Neither do I. You are always present in my mind. You alone have my heart. Remain calm; busy yourself with small things to make the days go by quickly. Only through determination will we achieve our purpose to be together, which is, believe me, what I desire above all things.

Never think you can't tell me things. Write me of your sorrows and your troubles even if I can offer you only the smallest bit of comfort.

Keep my heart safe until I am there to claim it and never part from you again.

Sol

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