The sun had long set in the outside world. William and his merry band practiced dance in the yellow rays of a lantern under the supervision of hay-eating, neighing spectators. Roland sat on a drum with a needle, yarn, and tunic.

 

Geoffrey put a leg on a upturned wooden bucket and pounded on the base with the end of a stick to make a beat.

 

“And one! And two! And three! And four!” Geoffrey sang. William and Wat played as dance partners, and stood before each other. And on the count of four, they bowed to each other and held each other’s hands. However, their wrists were too stiff.

 

“And your hand should be light, like a birdie on a branch,” Geoffrey said, rapping their wrists with the stick in his hand. “Again! And one! Two! And three! And four! And Wat doesn’t lead, he follows like a girl!”

 

Silence fell on everyone in the room. Wat’s lips trembled and his head shook. He looked at William as though for moral support but the latter only tilted his head sideways.

 

A dangerous chuckle escaped Wat’s lips and he, without warning – though everyone except Geoffrey knew it was coming – threw a punch that sent Geoffrey into the deep galactic void. Over the next ten minutes, William was trying to bring a fainted Geoffrey back to life.

 

Fifteen minutes later, Geoffrey was back on his feet with a cloth to stop the bleeding in his nose.

 

“Annnnnd, one and two, and twirly, twirly, twirly,” said Geoffrey resumed in a musical voice. “And one! And two! And three! And four! You can hit me all day because you punch like a what?”

 

“A girl!” Roland blurted from where he sat making the tunic before bursting into laughter.

 

Wat grew red as tomatoes and would probably have landed a second punch on Geoffrey had William not put himself between them.

 

“Let me kill him!” Wat was saying, throwing punches over William’s head at Geoffrey. “He starts it.”

 

“Stop it, Geoffrey, you know he’s touchy!” William snapped at Geoffrey. He knew it was he who was going to dance in the hall, not them, so they could play with this all day long if they wanted.

 

Just then, Ralph and his wife came into the stable, and when they saw the ruckus, whistled and grinned at the men.

 

Geoffrey snapped, annoyed his efforts are being belittled. “Oh, and you can do better?” he asked, leaning against the stick in his hand.

 

“Of course!” Kate, Ralph’s wife, said.

 

“Good, why don’t you show us then?” William ordered.

 

Kate stared at him for a while before shaking her head, no.

 

He wrinkled his nose and kicked a bucket in anger.

 

“Hey,” said Roland, looking up from the sewing. “If I’m making all this effort, you’d best ask her nicely.”

 

Ralph leaned against the wooden gate of a horse’s cage and watched the drama unfold with interested eyes. His wife, Kate, wiped her hands on her blacksmith apron and put them behind her, waiting for the ‘nice request’ from William.

 

The knight swallowed, and sighed. “Kate, do you mind, with your husband’s consent, putting us through a few dance steps you know?”

 

Over the next few minutes, Ralph, Roland, and the horses watched Kate dance with William, and Geoffrey with a swollen Wat.

 

“Can she do better?” Wat said to Geoffrey with a sneer. “You’ll never be as good as she is in ten lifetimes.”

 

An hour later William was standing before the gate of the banquet hall. He could perceive the aroma food rich and spicy. Already, there was a list of warning from Roland, Wat, Geoffrey about etiquette chasing after each other like a colony of cats and rats.

 

He took in one deep breath and stepped inside. William was not the best dressed, but ever since he was born, that was his best outfitting till date. Kate had helped him with his hair and the black eye from Count Adhemar’s blow. His only dread that night was meeting Count Adhemar, sharing the same room with him.

 

Once he stepped inside the door, a page met him at the door of the hall and led him inside, past heaps and mountains of mouthwatering fruits, and grilled meat.

 

The page led him all round the hall and he began to wonder if the page was hired by Count Adhemar. However, he eventually settled him beside Jocelyn, much to William’s delight.

 

Jocelyn was dressed in a dress of green silk trimmed with white samite. Her emerald green eyes popped and her fiery long red hair stood out because of the green of her dress, not that they wouldn't stand out anyway as they along with her pale and fair complexion made this young women stunningly beautiful. He could smell the roses about her, rising like incense to the high heavens.

 

She looked at him, smiled, and returned her gaze to the plate of berries before her.

 

“Sir Ulrich,” she said, smiling faintly. “Sir Ulrich, you look well.”

 

“Jocelyn… you look… ” William shifted in his seat. “You remind me of the Bible.”

 

Jocelyn winced. “How?”

 

William swallowed and continued. “When God stopped the sun in the sky at Gibeon to give Joshua more time to defeat the amorites.”

 

“I – I still don’t understand,” said Jocelyn, dimming her eyes thoughtfully.

 

“If I could ask God for a favor, it would be to stop the moon,” his voice fell to a near whisper. “To stop the moon and make this night and your beauty last forever.”

 

Jocelyn put a hand to her mouth and chuckled at this.

 

William looked around for any signs of Count Adhemar, he didn’t believe the Count would miss such an event. Not for the food, but events as such was breeding grounds for nobles and high ranked politicians. A place to make connections and meet the crème de la crème of the society.

 

Sure enough, Count Adhemar was sitting at a table filled with nobles and men dressed in princely dresses. Their eyes met for a brief moment, and Count Adhemar returned his attention to the people beside him.

 

William forgot about him then tried to enjoy the party, though every now and then, he’d wish he was out of range of the bright lights hanging from the high ceiling of stone hall, that he was in the safety and warmth of his compadres again.

 

Then William’s worst fear happened. A music of pipe and tabor sounded and the Dance Master stepped forward in blithe light steps. A small circle of formed around him as everyone looked eager to dance.

 

Everyone except William was happy it was time to dance. Of course, he was glad to stay behind while the rest of the crowd gathered round the Dance Master.

 

His eyes went round again, and they locked with Count Adhemar’s. But he somehow summoned the strength to pull away from the cold stare.

 

“What dance shall we play?” asked the Dance Master, leaping about the center of the circle with the agility of a ten year old ballerina when he was in fact a man in his forties. “A Coranto? Or a Basse dance?”

 

William contented himself with urging others to choose a dance step. It was his intention that should the step prove too hard, he’d claim it was all foreign to him and excuse himself from the crowd.

 

“Sir Ulrich!” a voice boomed behind the crowd. Everyone turned around about the same time, although William need not turn, he just knew whose voice it was. “Sir Ulrich, how about you give us the dance of your country. Give us the dance of Gelderland.”

 

William felt his heart plunk into his belly like a key in a bowl of water.

 

“Oh, well,” he began, stepping forward.

 

All eyes were fixated on him in that minute, and William wondered how he did not crumble under the weight of such scrutiny. He wondered if they could see past the name Sir Ulrich, wondered if they could see William Thatcher, son of a thatcher pretending to be a noble because he so badly wanted to change the terrible stars he was born with.

 

“It’s a lot like your Farindole,” William continued. “But with some slight differences.”

 

The Dance Master nodded and clapped for the band to begin music. William stepped forward and did a few of the steps he’d learned from Kate, threw a spin in the mix, added a small hop, a hand clap to one side, then to the other.

 

Jocelyn giggled where she was and stepped out of the crowd to partner William on the dance move. Thereafter, everyone joined in the dance, partnering with each other to dance and switch partners at intervals.

 

During the dance, William risked a glance at Count Adhemar. The Count was standing on his feet with a dark, wrathful scowl on his face. He looked like a dragon about to spit fire and vengeance on the world.

 

A noble walked up to Count Adhemar, and while William couldn’t hear what was said, he could see the way the noble flinched when Count Adhemar turned to face him.

 

William chuckled. A few minutes later, he glanced around but Count Adhemar was nowhere to be found.

 

A pleasant night indeed, he thought to himself.