|About the Book|
Keeping Tryst: A Tale of King Arthurs Timeby Annie F. JohnstonNOW there was a troubadour in the kingdom of Arthur, who, strolling through the land with only his minstrelsy to win him a way, found in every barons hall and cotters hut a ready... MoreKeeping Tryst: A Tale of King Arthurs Timeby Annie F. JohnstonNOW there was a troubadour in the kingdom of Arthur, who, strolling through the land with only his minstrelsy to win him a way, found in every barons hall and cotters hut a ready welcome. And while the boars head sputtered on the spit, or the ale sparkled in the shining tankards, he told such tales of joust and journey, and feats of brave knight errantry, that even the scullions left their kitchen tasks, and, creeping near, stood round the door with mouths agape to listen.Then with his harp-strings tuned to echoes of the wind on winter moors, he sang of death and valour on the field, of love and fealty in the hall, till those who listened forgot all save his singing and the noble knights whereof he sang.One winter night, as thus he carolled in a great earls hall, a little page crept nearer to his bench beside the fire, and, with his blue eyes fixed in wonderment upon the graybeards face, stood spellbound. Now Ederyn was the pages name, an orphan lad whose lineage no man knew, but that he came of gentle blood all eyes could see, although as vassal twas his lot to wait upon the great earls squire.It was the Yule-tide, and the wassail-bowl passed round till boisterous mirth drowned oftentimes the minstrels song, but Ederyn missed no word. Scarce knowing what he did, he crept so close he found himself with upturned face against the old mans knee.