A Warrior's Honor [antikvár]

Chapter One England, 1228 Bryce Frechette leaned back against the stone wall, a smaU, indulgent smile on his face as he watched the boisterous company enjoying the festivities after Lord Melevoir's tournament. Their host was a genial man who believed in fine food and wine, good sport and loud music. His hall, while not as large as Bryce's father's had been, evinced the Norman nobleman's appreciation for the luxuries a wealthy life afforded. A blazing fire in the hearth dispelled the chill of the spring evening, and fine beeswax candles in a number of holders brightened the room, as did torches in sconces upon the walls. After an excellent and bountiful meal, the long trestle tables had been taken down and now leaned against the thick stone walls, with the benches in front for those not dancing. Well-fed hounds prowled among the rushes, looking for scraps and somehow