“Riding again! Always riding. It is a wonder the boy does not grow hoofs and a mane.”

The girls giggled at the thought. The Queen sighed. She did not relish the idea of one so young riding such big horses. Still, she thought, as long as he is with Toli no harm can come to him.

“Now then, eat your breakfast. We have much to do this day to make ready for Lady Esme’s visit!”

They sat down to eat, but the girls were in such high spirits that they could only peck at their food. At last their mother dismissed them, and they ran laughing from the hall. Bria smiled, watching their braids flouncing as they went.

So Esme is coming. That is good news, she thought. How did the girls find out, I wonder. Well, however it is, she will be greatly welcome. It has been too long since she was in Askelon. Too long. I have missed her.

Quentin stood at a large, rough-hewn table in the center of a great rectangle of stone. His head was bent in concentration over a huge parchment roll which was weighted down at either end with a stone.

“See here,” he said, pointing to a place on the plan. “If we raise this wall within the week, we can begin laying in the beams. What do you say to that, Bertram?”

Bertram, the grizzled old master mason, squinted at the place where the King’s finger pointed, then raised his head and scratched his scruffy jaw, nodding at the wall before them across the way. “Aye, it is possible, Sire,” he replied diplomatically. “But the corbels must be set first and they are not ready yet. Nor the trusses, neither.”

“Hmm,” said the King, frowning.

“But we’ll see her raised soon enough, m’ lord. Indeed we will. Count on it. Up she’ll go soon enough.” He nodded his head and then called over to one of his masons. “Excuse me, Sire. I must attend-”

“Yes, of course. Go on. I am returning to the castle soon.”

“Good day to you, m’ lord.” Bertram bowed and hurried away.