Carlisle Ladye

(part three of eight – lyrics (c) Loreena McKinnett)

Her sire gave brooch and jewel fine,
Where the sun shines fair on Carlisle wall;
Her brother gave but a flask of wine,
For ire that Love was lord of all.


When they all sat along the great table, lord Mithon paused and raised his hands. They bowed their heads in unison as he spoke a prayer of blessing on the food and the two betrothed. Sara’s eyes caught Sir Arron’s and she smiled; waiting for her father to finish. The last words were barely off his lips and the servants were already bringing forth the meal.

Food was eaten and wine was drunk in pleasant silence, with only a word of two slipping through. The young lady ate slowly and waited again until her father was finished before she slid her plate away. Her brother and Sir Arren soon followed suit and the servants began taking the food away. Lord Mithon signaled one and she left the room. Sara looked at her father with a raised brow.

“Land shall not be the onl’y thing I give ye this day.” He turned to Sir Arren, “Thou I be givn’ this man my great’st posess’n.” His eyes returned to Sara, “I love ye too much to not giv’ ye more.” Her father gently held Sara’s hand and kissed the top. The servant returned, carrying with her a pillow laden by a silver brooch and gleaming necklace. The brooch was inlayed with precious stones; emeralds that shone like miniature forests and diamonds of shocking clarity. The necklace was made of linked emeralds, held by silver clasps. Sara knew the last time she had seen them was on her mother, those many years ago.

A bit of mist rose in her eyes as she grasped her father’s arm and kissed his cheek.

“Onl’y my fath’r’d keen how to bless my hear’t beyond its happynay!”

He smiled back to her, the mist in his eyes matching hers. Their moment was broken with a cough from Sara’s brother. All turned and saw him standing with a glass in hand.

“I’ve ‘nare much te giv te my beaut’ous sister, but I’ll raise moy glass and fill her own. I hope my gift may be accepted well.”

His hand rose into the air, a solemn air surrounding the movement.

“Thenk ye broth’r Justin, I’ll gladyly accept your gift. My hearts nee’r full of joy this day, ah’ll drink with you.”

Sara waited as a servant bound the necklace along her throat and then rose her newly filled glass. Justin nodded and they drank together with their father and Sir Arren.


~ by R.S.Sharkey on May 5, 2011.

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