Page 28 of Halloween Knight (A Knights Through Time Romance #17)
The Halloween celebrations started with apple pie for dessert after dinner, or as Lucy still called it, lunch.
Thanks to Father John, the entire village turned out for the festivities, even Father Michael, though he frowned at the copious amounts of ale and wine flowing.
“I don’t know how you convinced them all to come, but I am in your debt.”
Father John blushed. “I told them a witch would not allow a priest on her land.”
When she rolled her eyes, he laughed, making the village priest scowl even harder. But Lucy wasn’t letting him get to her, not today.
“Was that all?” She touched his arm, happy to see everyone having fun. “Isabelle said your back pains you?”
He shrugged. “An old childhood injury she has been unable to heal.”
“Sleeping on a pallet on the cold stone floor is not good for your back. I will see to it that you have a new bed and mattress raised from the floor. Putting a hot stone under the blanket where your back would rest before bed will also help.”
He blinked. “I thank you. A most generous gift.”
It was worth the cost if the villagers would quit crossing themselves when she went shopping during the weekly market.
Bertram called out to her, so Lucy bade the priest enjoy the festivities and went to speak with him and the servants, whom she’d tasked with hiding little trinkets around the grounds for the children to find.
Everything from ribbons to small wooden figurines to coins.
The coins weren’t worth much, the equivalent of pennies, but all kids loved finding money.
It wasn’t the same as trick-or-treating, but she thought they’d have fun hunting for presents.
And maybe in a few years, they could decorate some of the unused rooms and scare the kids and adults alike.
A creepy, haunted castle would be so much fun.
“It is done, lady.” The man held out the empty basket. “We even hid a few of the trinkets in the gardens to keep the children busy.
“Go and enjoy the festivities.” Lucy pressed a coin into his hand. All the servants were to be given coin today in celebration of the holiday.
“Thank you, lady.”
While people no longer celebrated the end of the harvest with three days and three nights of festivities, Lucy thought they had enough planned for today and tomorrow to make everyone happy.
Children and adults alike donned masks painted with animal faces, monsters, or evil spirits to protect them from being kidnapped by the faeries or taken by a spirit out to do harm.
The gates of Blackford stood wide open so the villagers could come and go, making Lucy second guess the decision. But after they hadn’t found any sign of Agnes or her men, Lucy couldn’t find a reason not to leave them open for the holiday.
From the moment she woke this morning, she couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched. When she’d told William of her fear, instead of dismissing her, he told the men to be watchful. They would take shifts so everyone could partake in the celebrations.
The men thought Agnes and the remaining mercenaries had either perished of smallpox or had moved on to easier prey, but she wasn’t so sure.
She’d seen the madness in Agnes’ eyes, so while everyone celebrated, she’d be on the lookout for the woman.
A huge bonfire to protect everyone from evil spirits and faeries stood in the courtyard, waiting to be lit when it grew dark.
Lucy couldn’t wait to hear new scary stories.
One musician said he would tell a story of a ghostly pirate ship that appeared on Samhain and would steal men away, cursed to sail the seas for all eternity.
A few of the knights boasted of outdoing each other, but she hoped they wouldn’t scare the kids too much.
The musicians played inside the great hall while people ate and bobbed for apples. It was warm inside, with roaring fires in the hearths to help keep the chill at bay from the doors being left open.
An old custom was to leave food out for the ancestors along with leaving every single door and window open so the ancestors could come and eat, and people could talk to them on this night when the veil between worlds was thin.
While the custom was now frowned upon by the church, many still practiced it.
Normally, Lucy would be all for it, but a sense of unease settled on her shoulders that she couldn’t shake as the open gates, windows, and doors left her feeling exposed and nervous. Someone ran past her wearing a mask of a boar’s head as Lucy tried to push the worry away and enjoy the afternoon.
By the time she came back from the nursery, after checking on Peter, darkness had fallen over the land.
William waved her over to stand beside him as the music and voices died down, all eyes turning to Lord Blackford.
Lucy slipped her hand into the crook of his arm, smiling up at him.
They’d both dressed in black. The women in the castle had embroidered his black velvet surcoat with his hellhound crest and leaves in gold thread, while they’d embroidered her dress with ravens in silver thread.
Margery had put her hair up with jeweled clips that sparkled in the firelight.
“Good people,” William began, his voice booming to reach the furthest corners of the courtyard. “I thank you all for celebrating Samhain with us at Blackford.”
Murmurs of appreciation rippled through the crowd. William allowed himself a slight smile before continuing solemnly.
“This night holds meaning for many. A time of harvest’s end when we give thanks for the bounty provided this year.”
Heads bobbed in agreement. The harvest had been plentiful across Blackford’s lands this year.
“We leave the doors and windows open so our departed ancestors may visit and partake in the feast as we tell them of our year.” This comment, William noted, caused a scowl from the village priest.
His wife liked to tell the children when they scowled that their faces would freeze that way for all time if they were not careful.
“We must don our masks this night so evil spirits and faeries do not take us away,” he went on, eliciting a few murmurs of unease from the more superstitious folk.
His wife squeezed his arm, no doubt remembering the night that brought her to him, and the awful day he thought he’d lost her to time itself.
“But above all, let this be a night of kinship and community.” William’s piercing gaze encompassed them all.
“So eat, drink, and celebrate tonight to welcome the coming winter, a time of reflection and rest.” William proclaimed.
A roar went up from the enthusiastic crowd. William grabbed a torch and strode toward the waiting bonfire. With a mighty swing, he plunged the torch down into the kindling as several of his men did the same.
Flames erupted with a mighty whoosh, licking higher and higher into the night sky as the fire took hold. Sparks swirled upward, mingling with the stars, bathing the courtyard in flickering orange light.
Lucy cheered along with everyone else as William rejoined her, pressing a quick kiss to her temple. Linking her arm through his, she smiled at Callan standing next to them. Thanks to her, William now knew he had a brother.
“To new friends and new traditions,” William declared, lifting his cup in salute.
Together, they watched the blaze, faces glowing with warmth and camaraderie.
His knights gathered on benches facing the bonfire, eager to eat and tell ghost stories. Callan sat amongst them, looking relaxed and in good spirits, while Lucy jumped at every shadow, worried Agnes would return.
Ale and wine flowed as servants brought out heaping trenchers of beef and cheese and other foods.
They also brought out the special food, and dessert Lucy prepared, to mixed reactions. Everyone tried a small bite of what she called stir-fry. ’Twas beef and vegetables in sauce along with something called rice that was small and white, and chewy. Not to mention ghastly expensive.
“I like the stir-fry,” Albin declared, stuffing his mouth.
A few of the men eyed the rice suspiciously but tried the food, chewing thoughtfully.
“’Tis unlike anything I have tasted.” Wymund looked at the white grains, shook his head, and took another bite.
When it was time for her newest dessert, everyone crowded around.
“What is it?” Clara asked, eyes wide.
“I call them Ghost Treats.”
There were oohs and ah’s from everyone as the servants passed around the tiny bites.
Lucy made the Rice Krispy treats by toasting the rice and then making marshmallow from the roots of the mallow plants. He thought it had been a lot of work, but she told him she was pleased with how they came out.
The children enjoyed the treats, pulling the bites apart and popping them in their mouths, while some of the adults made a face when they tasted the concoction.
“Did you like them?” Lucy looked up at him.
He chewed and swallowed. “The stir-fry was delicious.” Then William pressed his fingers together, making a face. “I do not care for the sticky treat.”
Callan held out his hand. “Give the rest to me, ’tis quite tasty. I like how it pops in my mouth.” He chewed and swallowed, a look of delight on his face. “The rice looks so different in the meal and in the dessert.”
With a shake of his head, William gave him the rest of his treat.
As the children bobbed for apples, one of the villagers told a spooky tale of a restless spirit who would steal into your home at night and sit on your chest while you slept so you could not breathe.
The new priest, Father John, looked on indulgently, as his sister, Isabelle, saw to a scraped knee.
Wymund stood, proclaiming, “join me in making noise to scare away any monsters and evil spirits lurking within the walls.”
People jumped up, screaming and banging sticks of wood together as they ran back and forth to scare away the spirits.