How innocent he appeared

May 04 [Fri], 2012, 14:39
Air Max Trainers ,"Look alive, master!" Perrin was saying. "Get up and claim your prize." "Good fellow!" de Coucy was shouting, clapping him on the back. "I knew it would be you." In a daze, Roland forced his limbs to carry him out into the center of the room. Perrin, hurrying after, shoved the neck of the lute into Roland's hand. Roland made his way to the dais one deliberate step at a time, feeling the continued cheering as if it were a tide through which he had to push his way. He saw Nicolette sitting beside Marguerite, motionless, her eyes bright. If only I could take you in my arms, he thought. He knelt and laid the brightly painted lute on the floor before the Queen. "Sire Orlando," said Marguerite, "I hope you will continue to sing - and your jongleur to play - as well as you did tonight, bringing honor to this prize and to the ladies who award it to you." She unfolded the square of blue and gold silk so that everyone could see it, and then released it to float down into Roland's outstretched hands. "May you never regret bestowing this prize upon me, Madame," said Roland, raising his head. Again he looked at Nicolette, and had to fight an urge to show every- one here what she meant to him.
Cheap Nike Air Max ,As Roland stood up, a crowd of ladies and troubadours pressed around him, introducing themselves and congratulating him. His hands cold, holding the silk as if it were fragile as a cobweb, he looked past the people near him, trying to see Nicolette. The Templar clapped him on the shoulder. "Magnificent, Sire Orlando. You sing in the Langue d'Oc quite without accent," he said in Italian. "When I speak it or sing in it, anyone can tell I am Italian. " Roland, feeling exposed, stiffened. He had to make an effort not to clench his hands on the scarf. He felt immediate distrust for Bruchesi. The eight-pointed cross on the monk's white mantle was a blatant re- minder that the Templars were crusaders. Still, their order had held aloof from the rape of Languedoc.
airmaxshoes4u.net , "The Langue d'Oc," said Roland carefully in the southern speech, "has been the tongue of all the great troubadours, and so I prefer it." And then Nicolette was standing beside him. This triumph is yours as much as mine, Roland wanted to tell her. Nicolette moved toward him, almost protectively, as if she, too, feared there might be enemies in this crowd. Barely whispering, his lips formed the words, "Mi dons." The circle gave way to admit Queen Marguerite, who came to him and said, "About the Langue d'Oc I quite agree, Sire Orlando. I, too, will al- ways love the speech of my Provencal childhood. Though now that the north has triumphed, I fear we will always have to say oil instead of oc when we mean yes."
Air Max Trainers ,Roland then bowed to Queen Marguerite. "A lady's 'yes' has a sweet sound in any language, Madame." "Spoken like a troubadour, Messire." Marguerite laughed. "Yet I fear the torch of poetry has passed, perhaps" - she nodded graciously to him - "to Italy, and from Languedoc we shall never again hear the like of Ar- naut Daniel or Bernart de Ventadour." "Yes, but surely," said a new voice, "the beauty of a language is created by the poetry written in that language. If beautiful songs are sung in the Langue d'Oil, it will become great." Everyone turned. The King stood before Roland in his plain dark robe, the red cross of a crusader sewn on one shoulder. Louis towered over everyone. Roland dropped to one knee. "Please stand up, Messire," said the King, patting Roland on the shoulder. "I merely wish to thank you for that exquisite song. And to congratulate you on winning this lovely prize." Roland rose and studied Louis's face. How innocent he appeared. Thirty-one, but he could as easily be twenty-one.
Air Max Trainers , The cross on his shoulder, Nicolette had told him, came from some mad notion the King had of delivering Jerusalem from the Turks. A thought struck Roland. If I were at home, I would not hesitate to honor mi dons publicly. Why not here? Certainly the Queen would un- derstand, perhaps the King, too. What holds me back, then? Amalric de Gobignon? A hot anger rose in his chest. Shall I let him stop me from paying mi dons the tribute she de- serves? After all, it will seem to be nothing more than the customary trib- ute a troubadour pays to the distant lady who inspires him. And I know Nicolette has the wit - and the courage - to respond as she must before King and Queen and court. Only we two will know the true meaning of the gesture. Let me do it, then. Roland turned to Louis. "Permit me to put a question to you, sire. Who deserves this prize more, the one who made the song, or the one who in- spired it?" Louis smiled, his large blue eyes focused searchingly on Roland. "An interesting question, Sire Orlando.
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