"Where are we going?" I manage to blurt out, stumbling after the surprisingly nimble old women dragging me by one hand back down the streets of Kirkwall.
"We," She strides on with perfect posture, "are going to visit Alice."
"And who is Alice?"
"Alice, is every ladies dream, and every mans nightmare."
That can only mean one thing.
"Alice is the village tailor?"
"Of course my dear, who else would she be,"
"But I do not have any spare money to buy clothes with nor room in my bag for when we continue journeying." I reason.
"Nothing to fret over. Think of this more as a lending of clothes whilst you are here then at the end of your stay, if you are sure you don't want them, you can give them back to me."
The look on her face tells me not to argue with her. "If you are sure?"
"Of course I am sure, everybody dresses well for tomorrow, you will stand out like a sore thumb if you are not dressed well."
I decide to except my fate and I mean, dressing like my gender will be enjoyable to do again. My experience so far with wearing men's clothing has been surprisingly enlightening and makes me wonder why women are expected to do so much in a kirtle everyday when breeches make movement so much easier.
However that is not to say I don't enjoy wearing gowns, because I do.
"Would you tell me more about the festival, Killian only briefly mentioned it."
"I don't know what to do with that boy," She sighs, "of course I shall tell you, it all started many years ago, or so the legend goes."
We continue walking down the street, her words filling the air, immersing me in the legend of Swanhild.
"This is the story of an event that took place when my grandmother was only a young girl herself living in Kirkwall. The village back then was not as it is now, take a look around you," She says softly.
My gaze wanders over my surroundings, small streets bustling with life, smells of wondrous food wafting out of the occasional building and children weaving in and out of people playing chase.
"The village is alive and joyful," I breathe.
"Yes, but back then it was not. Come we are going down here," She suddenly drags me right and we go down a little secluded alley, above us are clothes strung out to dry.
"What did it used to be like?" I ask, curiosity eating away at me.
"I shall get to that, once we have talked to Alice," We turn down another alley and eventually come face to face with a door at which Gisela lifts her hand up and knocks sharply twice.
No answer.
"Alice? Are you in there?" Gisela calls out, giving me a 'be patient look.'
We here muffled movement and finally the door awkwardly swings open to reveal a middle aged lady gesturing for us to come in whilst holding a large piece of green material in her other hand.
"Good gracious Alice, are you okay?" Gisela asks as I follow them inside.
"Mmmhmmm," Alice holds up her hand and then points to her mouth and I suddenly realise she has a needle being held there.
She gestures for us to take a seat on some chairs and then waddles out the room.
"And that is Alice for you," Gisela leans in, whispering, "she never stops working that girl, always trying to make new and exciting things,"
YOU ARE READING
Goodbye to the Knight✔️
Historical Fiction[COMPLETED] "We lock eyes and even at this distance I see the fire burning within, his power radiating outwards sending fear into the hearts of those opposing him. His jaw is taut but his motions are as fluid as a cat playing with its prey. The scar...
