By Kristen Fife

In The Beginning


She watched him, as she had been watching him from the shadows for several 
nights. This bright Knight, this Son of the Church, would become hers, for 
eternity. Tonight, it would begin.


I saw her first in a beggar's game
Her eyes were wild but her
   laugh was tame
Those people knew her by
   another name
I knew that she'd be mine
I knew that she'd be mine.

He looked up, some awareness rippling across his consciousness. His 
companions, celebrating their return to Paris and the Nativity season, 
continued to swig ale around him. The smell of roasted meat, rushes covering 
the scent of rancid animal products and human sweat combined in the air. The 
heat from the fireplace intensified the aromas, but Nicholas didn't care. He
was home, back in Paris after eight years of hell in the Holy Land. As his 
eyes lazily scanned the room, they stopped. A woman stood in the torchlight, 
watching him. She gestured to him, and he could almost hear a whisper in his 
mind.

"How badly do you want me?" She beckoned, then turned away from him. He 
grabbed his cloak and scrambled up to follow the slender retreating form as 
she rounded a corner toward the stable yard.

She took me in on a winter's night
The air was brittle and the
   moon was bright
My heart was heavy but her
   touch was light

She looked back over her shoulder at him, a knowing smile on her face. They 
exited the tavern and entered the cold winter night. The wind bit into him, 
the full moon glittered silver on the snow outside the golden glow of the 
torches in the yard. He hurried his footsteps to catch up with her.

"My Lady, I beg you, a moment of your time..." His breath steamed as he 
called out to her.

She turned, still smiling. In the moonlight her skin was flawless. He felt 
himself flush with desire as he approached her.

"Oui, mon chevalier? I saw you within the tavern." Her hand lifted to his 
cheek and stroked it. Her skin was already chilled from the frigid winter 
air.

His breath caught in his throat. He reached up and grabbed her hand, 
bringing it genteely to his lips. He introduced himself with a slight bow.

"My Lady, I am Nicholas de Brabant. Please, allow me to escort you to your 
home. It is unseemly for you to be out alone and I would be distraught to 
learn of any harm befalling such a beauteous creature as yourself."

She laughed. "Oh, how noble your words! I assure you, mon Sieur, that I am 
in no danger. However, I would be glad of an escort to my...home. It is not 
far."

Nicholas felt himself smile. "Thank you. You are as brave as you are 
beautiful."

She started walking again, and he followed her, enchanted by this beautiful, 
brave creature.


Deep in the dance we wandered
Deep in my heart she fell.
The candles glistened and
   the water gleamed
She drew a bath and the
   windows steamed
She looked like every woman
   ever dreamed
In the heart of a lonely man.
In the heart of a lonely man.


As they walked through the maze of moonlit streets, Nicholas asked her 
questions. He discovered that her name was Janette, although she refrained 
from providing him with a last name. She said that she and her father were 
staying in Paris on business indefinitely. Other than those pieces of 
information, she was reticent on her life. The mystery only intrigued 
Nicholas more. He had been in Paris for two weeks and had been entertained 
by tavern wenches, but no woman had captured his attention since the 
long-ago Gwynyth.

They approached a stone keep, the exterior brightly lit with torches.  She 
approached the door and pushed it open, sure in the knowledge that he was 
following her. Nicholas was chilled to the bone. The air inside was hardly 
warmer than outdoors, although Janette did not seem affected.

She led him into a sumptuous chamber hung with tapestries, thick rugs on the 
floor, and a huge bed draped in red velvet with a fine white chemise upon 
it. Dozens of candles danced as the door to the room opened, and he saw a 
hip bath in front of a roaring fireplace. She took his hand and led him in.

“Come. You must be chilled, and a bath would warm you. I will have the 
servants come and pour hot water for you. There is wine on the sideboard if 
you would like; I have some things to attend to, and then I shall return.” 
She leaned up and kissed him, her cool lips eliciting a passionate response 
from him. He encircled her slender waist with his hands in an attempt to 
coax her to the bed.

“Milady, why wait?  I have never felt anything like I feel with you. Can you 
not feel my heart pounding with want of your attentions?”

She laughed low in her throat. “Oh yes, I can hear your strong heart beating 
like a war drum. Have no fear, you will gain more than you ever imagined ere 
this night is through. But you must be patient.”

She left him, silent as fog lifting. Servants came in to fill the bath and 
the windows began to cloud over with the condensation. In eight years, 
Nicholas nothing but lust for any since the death of Gwynyth, yet something 
deep within him responded to this siren, Janette. He felt a stirring of more 
than passion, more than lust. His soul was quivering within him in 
anticipation of fulfillment of a destiny he scant understood.  He disrobed 
and entered the bath, her scent lingering in the air.


She took my blindness and she
led me through
As night retreated and the
daylight grew
And with the first rays of
the sun I knew
Love had another captive
Love had another fool.

The spell is broken and the
chains fall free
Finally my heart has come home to me
It seems I've waited an eternity.

===============

Summary: based on the lyrics of  Dan Fogelberg's song "Beggar's Game", this 
story shows the events in Paris, in 1228 when Nicholas de Brabant returns 
from the Crusades and is beguiled by a mysterious woman; events from this 
night catapult him to a destiny he never imagined.


"I believe in karma, what you give is what you get returned." -Savage 
Garden, Affirmation