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Both wo the small chamber with arirl, spoke “It is an earl coreat Black Lion himself”

“And black he is, too,” Meg added

“His eyes and hair are black as Satan’s Even his horse is all black”

Lyonene looked at them in horror She had heard stories of the Black Lion since she was but a girl—stories of strength and courage But each story was th was ill-gotten “You are sure it is the Black Lion and no other?” Her voice was quiet

“No other ooseflesh just to be near hiave her mistress an intense look

Lucy stepped forward “Cease your foolish prattle! You’ll scare the poor girl Now get on with your work I ave Lyonene’s hair a final co and settled the transparent circle of silk in place with a thin gold fillet “Now be still and do notfinger at Meg and Gressy “And no ossip If black hairthe Day of Glory” She sniffed and patted the little bit of gray hair that showed at her temple between the barbette, a piece of linen that totally concealed her neck and chin, and the cascading veil that extended to her shoulders Lucy iined that her own locks were still the soot-black of her youth

When the door was closed, Lyonene sank to the stone seat “Tell me of him,” she whispered

“He is a large man…”

“Strong…” Meg interrupted, but then, at Gressy’s quelling look, she went obediently to her side of Lyonene’s bed to catch the billowing sheet

“Aye,” Gressy continued, looking back at Lyonene and feeling confident in her audience Lyonene would be the mistress of her own castle someday, but for now there was one area where Gressy was superior, and that was in her knowledge of men “He’s the Black Lion and na the fierceness of a lion It is said he can unseat twenty men at a tourney and that in Wales, in the wars there, he could hack a man or his horse in half with one blow”

Lyonene felt her face drain of color, and this encouraged Gressy to elaborate on half-heard tales