The Boy Crusaders by John G. Edgar
The Boy Crusaders by John G. Edgar
IT was the age of chain armour and tournaments-of iron barons and barons' wars-of pilgrims and armed pilgrimages-of forests and forest outlaws-when Henry III. reigned as King of England, and the feudal system, though no longer rampant, was still full of life and energy; when Louis King of France, afterwards canonised as St. Louis, undertook one of the last and most celebrated of those expeditions known as the Crusades, and described as 'feudalism's great adventure, and popular glory.'
At the time when Henry was King of England and when Louis of France was about to embark for the East, with the object of rescuing the Holy Sepulchre from the Saracens, there stood on the very verge of Northumberland a strong baronial edifice, known as the Castle of Wark, occupying a circular eminence, visible from a great distance, and commanding such an extensive view to the north as seemed to ensure the garrison against any sudden inroad on the part of the restless and refractory Scots. On the north the foundations were washed by the waters of the Tweed, here broad and deep; and on the south were a little town, which had risen under the protection of the castle, and,-stretching away towards the hills of Cheviot,-an extensive park or chase, abounding with wild cattle and deer and beasts of game. At an earlier period this castle had been a possession of the famous house of Espec; and, when in after days it came into the hands of the Montacute Earls of Salisbury, Edward III. was inspired within its walls with that romantic admiration of the Countess of Salisbury which resulted in the institution of the Order of the Garter. During the fifth decade of the thirteenth century, however, it was the chief seat of Robert, Lord de Roos, a powerful Anglo-Norman noble, whose father had been one of the barons of Runnymede and one of the conservators of the Great Charter.
Like most of the fortresses built by the Norman conquerors of England, Wark consisted of a base-court, a keep, and a barbican in front of the base-court. The sides of the walls were fortified with innumerable angles, towers, and buttresses, and surmounted with strong battlements and hornworks. For greater security the castle was encompassed, save towards the Tweed, with a moat or deep ditch, filled with water, and fortified with strong palisades, and sharp stakes set thick all around the walls. Over the moat, at the principal gate, was the drawbridge, which was almost always raised, and the gate-house, a square building, having strong towers at each corner. Over the entrance and within the square of the gate-house was an arched vault, and over it was a chamber with apertures, through which, on occasion of an assault, the garrison, unseen the whilst, could watch the operations of the foe, and pour boiling water or melted lead on the foremost assailants. On the west side were the outworks, consisting of a platform with a trench half a mile in length, and breastworks, and covered ways, and mounds. The roofs of the building were bordered with parapets, guard walks, and sentry boxes.
But the whole space was not appropriated to works intended to ensure the stronghold against the assault of foes. Near the mound was the chapel dedicated to St. Giles. Under the outer wall was a military walk, five yards wide, and forty-eight yards in length. Underneath the walls, on the brink of the river, was a beautiful terrace, called the Maiden's Walk, where the lady of the castle and her damsels, after their labours at the loom, were wont to take air and exercise on a summer evening, ere the vesper bell rang, and the bat began to hunt the moth. Within the precincts of the building was the tiltyard, a broad space enclosed with rails, and covered with sawdust, where young men of gentle blood, in the capacity of pages and squires, acquired the chivalrous accomplishments which the age prized so highly.
In fact, the castle of Wark, like most feudal castles of that century, was a school of chivalry, whither the sons of nobles and knights were sent to serve their apprenticeship as warriors, taught their duty to God and the ladies, and trained to the skill in arms which enabled them to compel the respect of one sex and influence the hearts of the other.
First, on foot, they were taught to attack the pel, an imaginary adversary, which was simply the stump of a tree six feet in height; then, on horseback, they were made to charge the quintain, a wooden figure in the form of a Saracen, armed in mail and holding a sabre in one hand and a shield in the other, and so constructed to move on a pivot that, unless the youth was dexterous enough to strike the face or breast, it revolved rapidly, and dealt him a heavy blow on the back as he was retiring. As the lads became more expert they tilted at each other with blunt lances, practised riding at the ring, and learned to excel as equestrians by riding in a circle, vaulting from their steeds in the course of their career, and mounting again while they galloped.
At the same time they were trained to acquit themselves with credit in those encounters celebrated as combats at the barriers. At the sieges of cities, during the middle ages, knights of the besieging army were in the habit of going to the barriers, or grated palisades of the fortress, and defying the garrison to break a lance for the honour of their ladies. Indeed, this was so fashionable, that an army could hardly appear before a town without the siege giving rise to a variety of such combats, which were generally conducted with fairness on both sides. This mode of attack was early taught to the apprentice to chivalry, and assiduously practised by all who were ambitious of knightly honour.
Nor did the exercises of the tiltyard end at this stage. At the time of which I write, the name of Richard C?ur de Lion was famous in Europe and Asia; and his feats in arms were on every tongue. One of his great exploits at the battle of Joppa was especially the admiration of the brave. It seems that, when the Crusaders were surrounded and almost overwhelmed by the swarming host of Saladin, Richard, who, up to that moment, had neither given nor received a wound, suddenly sprang on his charger, drew his sword, laid his lance in rest, and with his sword in one hand, and his lance in the other, spurred against the Saracens, striking sparks from their helmets and armour, and inspiring such terror that his foes were completely routed. Naturally such an exploit made a strong impression on the imagination of aspirants to warlike fame, and the youth who had the dexterity and the equestrian skill to imitate it in mimic fray was regarded with admiration and envy.
Now our concern with Wark, and its tiltyard, is simply this-that, within the castle, there were trained in the exercises of chivalry, and qualified for its honours, two striplings, who, when St. Louis took the Cross, and undertook a holy war, embarked for the East, and figured, during a memorable expedition, as the Boy Crusaders.
* * *
Gianna Benton, a woman who came from a great family, a family with ancient history, had always lived a life that's overshadowed by her younger sister, Quinn. After her unfair death with her unborn baby at the hands of the man she loved, Gianna got reborn. Now with the opportunity to live again, Gianna rejects her mate and gives herself to alpha Axel, falling into an unexpected contract marriage. Both plans to use each other, and falling in love isn't part of the deal for them. Gianna plans to get her revenge on her former lover, alpha Nathan, who killed her in the past because of her younger sister, but surprisingly to her, alpha Nathan wants his mate back, and Gianna is determined not to let the past repeat itself. ------------------------------------------------- "Is this hell?" "Gianna, what's wrong with you? I know that you are excited, but you need to stop acting weird." Mom said. I reach out my hands to touch her face, but she slaps my hands away. This is real, I thought. Somehow, I have gone back in time to the day I got married to Alpha Nathan. "I need to take a picture of you, but I can't do it without your sister. Wait here for me while I go get your sister." Mom left the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts. My hands formed a fist in anger as I thought of Quinn and Alpha Nathan. I don't know how I have traveled back to the past, but I'm not going to let myself make the same mistake I did in my past life; I'm not getting married to alpha Nathan. No matter what, I need to put a stop to this wedding.
Maia grew up a pampered heiress-until the real daughter returned and framed her, sending Maia to prison with help from her fiancé and family. Four years later, free and married to Chris, a notorious outcast, everyone assumed Maia was finished. They soon discovered she was secretly a famed jeweler, elite hacker, celebrity chef, and top game designer. As her former family begged for help, Chris smiled calmly. "Honey, let's go home." Only then did Maia realize her "useless" husband was a legendary tycoon who'd adored her from the start.
Luna has tried her best to make her forced marriage to Xen work for the sake of their child. But with Riley and Sophia- Xen's ex-girlfriend and her son in the picture. She fights a losing battle. Ollie, Xen's son is neglected by his father for a very long time and he is also suffering from a mysterious sickness that's draining his life force. When his last wish to have his dad come to his 5th birthday party is dashed by his failure to show up, Ollie dies in an accident after seeing his father celebrate Riley's birthday with Sophia and it's displayed on the big advertising boards that fill the city. Ollie dies and Luna follows after, unable to bear the grief, dying in her mate's hands cursing him and begging for a second chance to save her son. Luna gets the opportunity and is woken up in the past, exactly one year to the day Sophia and Riley show up. But this time around, Luna is willing to get rid of everyone and anyone even her mate if he steps in her way to save her son.
"My sister threatens to take my mate. And I let her keep him." Born without a wolf, Seraphina is the disgrace of her pack-until a drunken night leaves her pregnant and married to Kieran, the ruthless Alpha who never wanted her. But their decade-long marriage was no fairytale. For ten years, she endured the humiliation: No Luna title. No mating mark. Just cold sheets and colder stares. When her perfect sister returned, Kieran filed for divorce the same night. And her family was happy to see her marriage broken. Seraphina didn't fight but left silently. However, when danger struck, shocking truths emerged: ☽ That night wasn't an accident ☽ Her "defect" is actually a rare gift ☽ And now every Alpha-including her ex-husband-will fight to claim her Too bad she's done being owned. *** Kieran's growl vibrated through my bones as he pinned me against the wall. The heat of him seared through layers of fabric. "You think leaving is that easy, Seraphina?" His teeth grazed the unmarked skin of my throat. "You. Are. Mine." A hot palm slid up my thigh. "No one else will ever touch you." "You had ten years to claim me, Alpha." I bared my teeth in a smile. "Funny how you only remember I'm yours... when I'm walking away."
Nadine reunited with her family, convinced she'd been discarded, rage simmering-only to find collapse: her mother unstable, her father poisoned; a pianist brother trapped in a sham marriage, a detective brother framed and jailed, the youngest dragged into a gang. While the fake daughter mocked and colluded, Nadine moved in secret-healing her mother, curing her father, ending the union, clearing charges, and lifting the youngest to leader. Rumors said she rode coattails, unworthy of Rhys, the unmatched magnate. Few knew she was a renowned healer, legendary assassin, mysterious tycoon... Rhys knelt. "Marry me! The entire empire is yours for the taking!"
Sunlit hours found their affection glimmering, while moonlit nights ignited reckless desire. But when Brandon learned his beloved might last only half a year, he coolly handed Millie divorce papers, murmuring, "This is all for appearances; we'll get married again once she's calmed down." Millie, spine straight and cheeks dry, felt her pulse go hollow. The sham split grew permanent; she quietly ended their unborn child and stepped into a new beginning. Brandon unraveled, his car tearing down the street, unwilling to let go of the woman he'd discarded, pleading for her to look back just once.
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