The Lady of Daldriada
By Phyllis Keels
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This had to be it. The only way in without being seen. Nina Hamilton glanced behind her and swung her leg over the low wire fence. She sped to the nearest of the gnarled olive trees and plastered her back against the other side of its trunk. She held her breath as footsteps approached from her left, passed by and faded away to her right.
Releasing her breath, Nina adjusted the strap of the backpack over her shoulder and peeked around the tree. She ignored the trembling in her stomach, turned and hurried down the gravel path. Passing through the line of trees, she stepped into the sunlit garden of castle ruins.
“Closed for Repairs” or not, she was going to take photos of the ancient Daldriada site today. She had not traveled thousands of miles to be held up by somebody else’s lack of communication.
Nina paused at a fragrant vine clinging to a pile of fallen castle stones. She readied her camera, then for a moment succumbed to the urge to touch the velvet flowers. I’ll probably go to jail forever for this.
She bit her lip at the thought of spending any time in a European jail but, Lord willing, she wouldn’t get caught. Her conscience ached under her admission that she was breaking the law. She asked the Lord’s forgiveness and promised to get out as soon as she had the perfect photo.
The high sun bore down on the top of her head, coaxing beads of sweat from her brow. While her blonde hair didn’t absorb heat, it also didn’t provide much protection from the sun’s rays. Pushing back the strands of hair that clung to her forehead, she wiped away the moisture. She ran her hand back over her hair and adjusted the elastic band holding her ponytail.
For the site to be closed for repairs, there wasn’t a soul working on it. Nina supposed she was the only one stupid enough to be out here at noon. Not the best time to take pictures, either. But it was the only time she had and she had better get moving.
She stepped around the fallen stones littering the ground and took several shots of the area. She moved into what would have been the bailey of the castle of Daldriada. The stones lining it showed the open courtyard had been a huge space.
When she was satisfied with the shots she had taken from here, Nina turned to seek the river. She approached a low, crumbling foundation wall with only four rows of stones standing. As she neared it, the texture of the rock shifted from smooth to rough and dimpled. She stopped and tilted her head. Walking backward a few paces, she squinted at the length of wall. Its appearance didn’t change back to smooth.
Was that writing on the stones? Why had she not noticed that before? There had been no writing. In fact, her pictures could prove it.
She searched the files on her camera, certain she had never seen photos of carvings or writings at the Daldriada site, never even heard of them. Once she found her images, she compared them against what lay not ten feet in front of her. The letters on the wall looked like Olde English to her. She frowned. She couldn’t read them.
Nina took three photos of the wall and checked the images. This was what she had come for. Something extraordinary. She gave a little hop, jostling her backpack. The strap slid down to her elbow, so she leaned over and let the pack fall to the ground. When she lifted her head and again looked at the wall, she gasped. The letters were gone.
“Maybe it’s the light. Maybe at the right angle?” Nina squinted up at the glaring sun. “But it’s noon.”
She hoisted the pack onto her shoulder. Pursing her lips, she marched to the wall and examined it thoroughly. She rubbed her hand along the surface, now smooth again. She couldn’t remember which shapes had been where or even find a groove or a scratch.
Using the images in her camera as a guide, she felt along the surface exactly where the writing should be. Nothing. She shook her head and returned to the spot where she had taken the pictures. “This is crazy.”
Nina placed a hand on top of her head to shield it from the heat bearing down. A glance at the sun then at her watch confirmed that it was noon, to the second. Maybe she was having a heat stroke.
“Lord, I know I have no right to ask this, being a trespasser and all, but what is going on?”
As the prayer left her lips, a thick cloud passed between Nina and the sun. She leaned her head back. A huge thunderhead sat directly above her, covering the whole sky. How had it come up so quickly? There had been no clouds a few minutes ago.
Lightning flashed with the thunder right on its heels. She jumped as her pack fell from her shoulder. Her camera slipped from her hand, landing soundlessly beside her foot. The blinding light from the bolt created the effect of looking at a camera flash a thousand times over.
The next streak came quickly and stood Nina’s hair on end. She fell backward and knew no more.
* * *
“How long, O, Lord?” It was the third time that morning he had asked the question. He heard no answer but felt again the same sense of peace and rightness he had the other times he had asked. He would wait. Meaning no disrespect, he had learned long ago the futility of asking why, and had moved on to the wiser question of how long.
The sun was almost straight overhead now, bearing down on his full crown of black hair, causing it to curl damply at the nape of his neck. He would have moved into the full shade hours ago had his view of the spot he watched not been obstructed from there.
Scratching the short, sculpted ebony beard that ran along his jaw line, he wondered if he looked presentable. Days of uneasy travel had left him disheveled. His appearance would have to do, he decided, wondering if this unusual concern meant today was the day. Would his prayers be answered today?
A great crash of tree limbs sounded nearby. He saw the flash of the white doe as it came into the clearing and halted abruptly. The deer lifted her head and sniffed the air. He held his breath and thanked the Lord for the sign he had waited years to see. The doe turned and bounded away toward the river.
He returned to watching the clearing until the sun’s heat, unusually strong for the spring, finally tamed the stubborn black-clad man. With a sigh of resignation, he moved into the shade and patted the neck of the enormous ebony horse standing patiently in the coolness under the tree.
“Not long now.” He sat, leaning his back against a broad poplar with smooth bark. His body was relieved to relax. Still, he waited until the soft mid-day chirping of the birds lulled him into leaning his head back and closing his eyes. Perhaps just a moment…
* * *
Nina’s mind crawled up from a black fog that seemed to swirl around her. Gradually, she perceived white, painful light, as if before it came she had been trapped in complete darkness. She blinked and wiped the wetness from her burning eyes. When she could open her eyelids, she moaned. Placing her hand over her forehead, she sat up with a groan.
What happened? The arm she had been lying on itched terribly. She scratched her skin and felt deep indentations from the grass. How long have I been out? She scratched her calf and brushed the grass off her legs.
Nina looked down. Her eyes widened. She was naked. Stark naked. Gasping, she wrapped her arms around herself. She scanned the meadow, searching for her khaki shorts and white tee shirt. Someone had played a very tasteless practical joke on her while she had been unconscious. Her face grew hot.
She stood up, searching for the prankster who had done this to her. There was no one; neither did she see her clothes or her backpack.
“My camera!” She placed her hands on her head. “Oh, somebody is going to pay for this.” She had bought that camera with hard-earned money she had saved after college. No one could repay her for the “coupon days,” as she called them, the days of eating only cheap, processed foods unless she had a coupon for something better.
She took a few deep breaths and remembered that she was naked. Her skin chilled in spite of the high mid-day sun. She considered calling for help but she didn’t want anyone to see her like this. Maybe she could find something to cover herself.
She passed through the high grass that tickled her lower legs. Nina’s lip trembled. She remembered neatly cropped grass at the ruins. Now it was wild and didn’t appear to have been cut in ages.
She stopped. There were no ruins! She searched for something familiar, but almost everything was different. No tree was where it should have been, no flowering vines, no fence. No stone walls sat where they had for ages. Weeds and bushes now overtook most everything in sight.
In a rush, Nina remembered the script on the wall and how it had disappeared, the flashes of lightning and her losing consciousness. Tears welled up in her eyes, and her limbs trembled. The memory of being lost as a child flashed through her mind. She leaned her head back and prayed.
“Lord, I don’t know what’s going on, but please help me!”
She lowered her head. A path lay in front of her where the tall grass had been forced over by someone’s passing. Naked or not, Nina followed the bent grass toward the river to have a word with whomever she might find. Not far ahead, a small bundle rested on the ground. It was the brightest, clearest yellow she had ever seen.
She went to it and reached down. The delicate material felt like wisps of cotton gauze in her hands. Beneath it was a cornflower blue cloth and a pair of soft leather shoes that looked like identical twins – no right or left foot, just two shoes – the way they were made a long time ago.
Glancing around for onlookers, she dropped everything but the yellow cloth. She unfolded the material God had provided her. She ran her hand over the lovely gown with white water lilies, real ones, woven around the square neckline. Inhaling their fragrance calmed her racing heart. No. She would not let go of her anger just yet. She needed it to drive away the lingering fear and to deal with whomever did this to her.
Next, she put on the blue coat that was light but sturdy and kept her at a nice temperature. It felt good to be clothed again. She slipped the shoes on. They were like butter on her feet. After a little wiggling of her toes, she did not mind the “no right or left” feeling.
When she pulled her hair from the neck of the coat, Nina realized that even the elastic band she had worn was not there. Her favorite ring, the only one she wore daily, was gone too.
“Yes sir.” She gritted her teeth. “Someone is going to pay for this.”
* * *
The sound of a woman’s voice woke him. Remembering what he had been waiting for, he leapt to his feet with his heart beating in his ears. He walked softly to a nearby tree and peered around it toward the place where he had laid the gifts.
His brow furrowed at the sight of the woman pacing in the small meadow, talking to herself. She looked nothing like he had thought she would. Over the years, he had formed a vision of her in his mind – stately, serene. The color of her hair and the shape of her face mattered little. He had always imagined that those would be outward reflections of her lovely nature.
On further inspection, he was definitely pleased with her beauty, her slender form and golden hair, the delicate features of her face. It was her display of ire that gave him pause. The Lady of Daldriada was said to be “full of grace, with every word of her mouth flowing sweet like honey.” This Lady was upbraiding someone unseen about a “camera.”
“She wears the gown.” And it fits her perfectly. “Surely, she is the one.”
He ran his large hand through his hair as she continued to search the ground around her. Huffing and blowing like a blacksmith’s bellows, she was certainly displeased with someone. After a few moments. he concluded that “camera” was an object and not a person, though she spoke several times about retribution to some unlucky fellow.
He glanced heavenward with a wary eye. This lady was very comely but the ill temper... One did not treat lightly the ill temper of a lady and especially not The Lady.
Uttering a quick prayer for wisdom, he promptly made up his mind. Gentleness in the face of anger had always served him well, especially with women. He prayed the result with this one would be no different.
“It is she, Rigel.” He cupped the horse’s velvet nose in his hand. A soft nicker answered him as the Destrier tossed his head, sending the long wavy mane rippling along his thick neck. “Let us go and greet the Lady.”
The black gave a full neigh of assent that echoed in the green river valley of Daldriada. He mounted and gathered up the smooth weathered reins in his long fingers. Rigel sidestepped and raised his head high. A bright light flashed in his peripheral vision, proving it was not the Lady that perked the horse’s ears and flared his nostrils.
Seven riders approached at a deliberate pace, nearing the bend of the river. He knew them and their errand. Clenching his jaw, he estimated his time left to gather the Lady and still remain undetected. She was marking the group’s approach even as he squeezed the sides of his horse and set him to motion.
* * *
The deep neigh of a horse echoed around Nina. She had not remembered seeing any horses from the time she had arrived at the ruins. Seeking the direction of the sound, she finally caught a movement up the river. A small troop of riders headed her way. Though they were too far away for her to see much detail, her brow twisted at the constant glinting of sunlight off of them.
She bit her lip. I’d better get going. Hiking up her skirts, she turned and hurried toward the large clump of shrubbery at the bottom of the hill. There may be no cause for concern, but better not to be out in the open, especially in this get-up.
She glanced back just to be sure the riders were still far enough away. She blinked at the sight of a huge horse coming up behind her at a trot that shook the ground. This massive animal reminded her of a draft horse she had seen in a parade once, a heavy black Friesian. On his back was…
Nina’s mouth hung open. She turned, walking backward until her heel caught the hem of her gown. She fell on her rear as neatly as if she had meant to.
When the horse stopped, the rider crossed his wrists over one thigh as he leaned to get a better look at her. Nina stared straight up at the black-clad knight towering above her, his chain mail flashing in the sunlight.