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Fiction
Lady Greensleeves
(Prologue)
As they watched him make his way through the dusty streets filled with market stalls and shopping townspeople, the large man in the brocade surcoat looked very odd to the people of the village of Mossybrook. It was not merely his size, though that alone was enough to give them pause, as he towered several inches above most men?s heads and took up twice their usual breadth. It also was not simply a matter of the man?s unusually fine clothing, though it is true that many of them did gape openly at the fine gold embroidery on rich brocade the colour of dried blood and the spotless leather boots lined generously at the top with delicate fur. But what really made them watch him so closely and with such apprehensive scrutiny was the man?s expression--he had the look of a very hungry bird of prey circling in search of a meal.
The gentleman in the leatherwork stall looked down quickly as the large man neared, hoping that by not making eye contact, he could remain unnoticed and unbothered. The boy who ran the chicken stand for his father stared guiltlessly, as the young and naïve are known to do, and the large man lumbered by, giving the boy a stern look of disgust as he passed. The children that had been playing a game of ball in the small open area between the fish stand and the very colourful stall of the sign painter let their ball bounce away unnoticed as they stared and backed away toward their mothers. As the large man reached one of the smaller fruit stalls, the grizzled old lady who stood behind it gave him a large, nearly toothless smile.
"What can I get for the fine gentleman who graces our town with his presence?" she asked him in voice that sounded like crunching gravel mingled with poorly tuned music.
The man gave an appraising look down at the woman?s goods and frowned. "Do you have anything that isn?t caked with dirt or half-spoiled?" he asked with the pained look of someone who has had something very foul smelling shoved under his nose.
"Oh, dear sir, my fruits are the sweetest and ripest of all the fruits in the village, " said the old lady with a wider and still more toothless grin. "Pick out what ye like, sir, and I?ll be happy to wash it spotless-clean for ye--expect only the best from Mama Goldenleaf?s fruits and berries--all home grown, good sir, all home grown!"
The large man looked down again with a very dark scowl and picked through the fruits in the stand with the hands of one who is gutting a deer while trying to keep his fingers unbloodied. After sorting through dusty apples and squishy peaches, the large man finally pulled out two yellow quinces and a pear with only a small scuff of dirt on one side. The old woman?s smile became so wide one could see the whole inside of her mouth through the abundant holes left by missing teeth as the large man handed her the quinces and pear as his purchases.
"Oh, thank you sir--wonderful choices! The quinces were lovely this year, and my pears have won ribbons many times over. You?ll be quite pleased, I?ll wager, quite pleased indeed." The woman handed the fruit back and pronounced a total, her eyes widening noticeably as the large man pulled out quite a number of glittering coins from his bulging purse to count out the sum. She was about to thank him greatly as he handed over a number of coins when there was a sudden exclamation of noise from the crowd ahead.
"It?s our Lady Greensleeves!" someone shouted excitedly. "Lady Greensleeves has come for a visit!"
The excited murmur carried throughout the crowd and all around the large man and the old woman at the stall. The man looked rather annoyed at all this excited jabbering from the dirty village dwellers and turned to see what all the irritating fuss was about. Through a small gap in the crowd, the man could see a rather beautiful young lady clad in a fine damask dress of deep green, with a pale green chemise of silk partially visible under the long split damask sleeves and at the top of the laced bodice just under her delicate collar bones. She had a very lovely face and long dark brown hair that hung loose in waves down past her waist. She wa s talking with a middle-aged man dressed in a threadbare homespun tunic, giving him a very warm smile and touching his dingy forearm with her pale, delicate hand. The large man stared, forgetting himself for a moment.
"Who is that girl?" the large man demanded of the old woman as he came to his senses.
"Oh, that is the Lady Briannon Greene, sir, the daughter of our great King Riadon the Fair. We call her Lady Greensleeves, sir, on account of her beautiful green dresses. It?s her favourite colour, ye know."
"She is a king?s daughter?"
"Oh yes, sir--our gracious King?s only child, sir. She?s a great friend to the people of Mossybrook--comes to visit us about once a week or so. Always brings nice things from the castle for the children--pasties and sweets and things. She?s such a sweet girl, she is. Really bright, and kind-hearted too. She?s got quite a few suitors wanting her hand in marriage, but they?re mostly common-folk from towns like ours, so her father won?t allow 'em to court her--and rightly so, I say. A lady like that should find herself a great handsome lad--a prince--not a lowly chap from the commons like our lot here."
The large man seemed to be paying the old woman only the barest attention as he watched the Lady Greensleeves through the crowd, her fair eyes smiling from one dirty face to the next as she conversed freely with the villagers.
"So the Lady Greensleeves, the King?s only child, is unmarried?" he asked the old woman while he still watched the enchanting lady in green, who it seemed had just accepted an invitation to have tea in one of the villager?s small houses just off the unpaved street.
"Yes, that?s quite right sir. And a fine and sweet lady like that ought to have herself a fine husband, I say."
"Indeed she should," said the large man, tossing the small handful of coins absently toward the old woman in payment for his fruits, "Indeed she should." With that, the large man walked away from the old woman and the fruit stall without a glance backward, looking again like a bird of prey--though this time no longer circling.
"Well that?s a fine ?thank-ye-very-much!" said the old woman once he?d gone. "Insult my fruits, then throw coins at me without so much as a by-yer-leave. Don?t they teach the upper classes to behave better than that?" The old woman spat, and then smiled her toothless smile again. "But them quinces are like to be still green and bitter, and the pears have got worms in ?em, every last one."
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