This is based on the poem 'Lochinvar,' but you don't need to read the poem to understand the story at all.
It all started one lovely fall day, in the early evening; the only time of day I could get away from The Prison.
Well, all right, so it wasn't really a prison. Other people called my father's lands Netherby, and our castle one of the many Netherby Castles. But I called it The Prison, because for me, that's what it was. It looked like a prison, too, with towering stone walls and little holes in the walls with bars across them that served for windows. There was a wide moat surrounding the castle and a wooden drawbridge that almost never went down. There were three towers in the castle: one facing the north, with a rounded roof; one facing east, with a squared roof; and one, with a tall, jagged, pointed top, facing the setting sun. That was my tower, where I spent all of my time. I sat there often from the sunrise to it's setting, stitching, crocheting, embroidering, painting, and singing. But three or four times a week, when my father was overcome by wine and a large, early dinner, I would charm the guard with a wink and a smile, to help me escape from my tall tower and go out riding. Without an escort, of course - that was the only way one could have fun on a ride! Escorts always kept you from jumping higher and racing faster, which was ridiculous, because these exciting activities were the whole reason for going out in the first place.
So that was how it started. L'Michel Doucette, my favorite guard - even though he was French - was standing straight in the doorway, his back as straight as the shaft of his pike. I set down my embroidery, crept to the rough wooden door that led out of the tower room, and down the long, stone staircase that connected my part of The Prison to the other parts of the same Prison.
"Eh, Lady Madeline, why are you wandering about down here? Up to no good, eh?"
His voice, round and resonant, echoed cheerfully from underneath his large, rounded helmet. His beard, poking out in a blond straggle from his square chin, curled a little damply from the moistness of his breath in the cold hallway. My father, even though he was wealthy enough to keep the entire castle at summer's own temperature year-round, liked a sort of chill, cold atmosphere about the place.
"L'Michel, my favorite guard! What say you to a little peek around the hallway in that direction? I saw a stray cat that might make a bit of trouble around the corner."
L'Michel laughed and shook his head, then picked up his pike and turned down the hallway, deliberately not looking at me. Then he stopped and half turned back.
"Eh, Lady Mad - or should I say Mad Lady? - keep Sir Ronald in a good mood today. He's in charge of the stables this week and royally drunk, he is. If you play him right he'll sing a right good tune of your own choosing, but a more cross tattle-tale you've never seen if you get on his wrong side."
I smiled gratefully.
"Thank you for the tip, L'Michel. Get about your duty, now, and no peeking!"
L'Michel strode about, out of sight, and I walked by his guard post, grinning as I always did after conversing with him. He was my only friend in this desolate place.
It would hardly do to let the drawbridge down - the thing was so creaky from disuse that it would wake even my father, who slept like the dead - so L'Michel and I had devised an alternate route. It was simple to get from my tower rooms to the courtyard, and easier still to get through the courtyard to the stables. Most of the servants were on my side and would look in the opposite direction if they saw me attempting to discreetly cross an open area. They knew I would be heavily punished if I was caught outside my tower, so they helped me in any way they could without getting caught themselves. Of course, there were a few over-zealous serving men who hoped to get in good my father - little realizing what tight-fisted old sinner he was - and would capture me if they could. But I avoided them and capture for most of the time, especially when L'Michel was off-duty and could come with me.
I peeked into the stables and saw the tall, fat pile of greasy clothing named Sir Ronald, the sometime stable-master, sometime obsequious toady to my father. He was sitting on a bale of tightly-packed hay, clutching a goodly sized mug of ale. I shook my head in disgust, then, pressing aside my true feelings, I strode forward, putting a simpering smile on my face. He looked up sharply at me, and if I hadn't known he was drunk, I would have thought he was sober.
"Aha, Sir Ronald! I had hoped to find you here."
He frowned a little confusedly.
"You had?"
I nodded and came closer, walking a little more...swaggering...than usual.
"Yes, you, Sir Ronald. You see, I thought, because you are so strong and tall, that you could help me."
I could see his little mind soaking in my words and his chest start to swell. I put on my prettiest smile and fluttered my eyelashes at him.
"I need help lifting an awfully heavy saddle down from the wall, Sir Ronald. It must weigh at least fifty pounds, and I can barely reach it. But I feel sure that you, being such a man, could do it as easily as rolling off a bale of hay!"
He flared his nostrils a little and carefully put his mug of ale on the hay beside him. He winked at me in what he thought was a flirtatious gesture and rolled up his dirty sleeves.
"Where is it that this heavy...object of yours is, Lady Mad?"
I gritted my teeth to hear him use the nickname that only L'Michel and my cousin Kate called me, but led him prettily through the stable towards the stall of my own dear mare, Fountain. I had named her Fountain because she moved like so many tinkling drops of water, light and airy, yet fluid and graceful and beautiful at the same time. She was a bay - chestnut brown with a black mane and tale - ordinary enough, but I loved her and she moved like...like a fountain! My 'heavy' saddle was hung high upon the wall and I smiled at Sir Ronald.
"Oh, Sir Ronald, it's just there. Could you lift it down and put it on the door of my stall, please? Then I'll let you get on with your more important work."
He made a show of flexing his muscles, then lifted the saddle down, feeling strong and manly, I'm sure, although one of the maids could have lifted it just as easily.
"There you are, Lady Mad. If there's nothing else..."
I fluttered my eyelashes again, beginning to feel as if I had some sort of eye disease.
"Oh, no...thank you so much for taking time to help a poor damsel."
He bowed low and walked around the corner. As soon as he was out of sight I let myself into Fount's stable.
