She emerged into the hall with a calm, dignified manner. As if she did not dread this messenger with all of her being, she ordered cooled ale, fruit, and cheese to be brought, and a pallet prepared for the messenger.Only then did she go out to the yard.The messenger was a man she had not seen before, tall and slim in the black mail that the Black Prince had made so fashionable. He rode in with a small party of knights and squires on good horses. And as Lyssa came down the steps, she thought the messenger himself might have been called a black knight, for his hair was raven black around a harshly carved face.Isobel caught up to her, breathless as if she'd run all the way here. In Lyssa's ear, she whispered urgently, "That is John Margate. He used to visit my mother—they were childhood friends."Something in the girl's voice caught Lyssa's attention and she glanced sharply at the girl. But Isobel only moved quickly forward, a bright smile on her pretty mouth. "Greetings, sir!" she called.
