Richard's Grey Horse trotted down the crowded London streets, following the path of the mighty Thames. Low clouds hung delicately in the air, whipped into fluffiness by a light breeze as the knight took in his crowded surroundings. Tall, ancient and magnificent buildings rose up from the cobbled streets, sheltering the tinkers and tradesmen trying to sell their wares and services. He was surrounded by the sounds of Smithies and their forges, horses, arguments, the buzz from taverns and the everyday bustle of courtiers and nobles passing through the poorer parts of town on their way to the palaces and official buildings.
Richard was heading for the political region of Westminster, in search of the embassy of the royal court of Madrid. He had recently been mysteriously seduced by Lady Isabella Francisco who somehow knew his name and of his reputation as a gifted lover, and after much contemplation he had decided to find her again in the sprawling stone and thatch animal that was London town. He wanted answers. It was as if she had hunted him down, just to seduce him and had left in the early hours suggesting he follow her. He wanted to go and search for his lost love, Jenny who lived in the country, but curiosity and sheer physical attraction to a woman who had dominated him like no other drew him to the city. He wanted more.
As he approached the centre of the political heart of Westminster, the clothes of the people around him grew finer, more powdered wigs, coats of arms and ornate architecture could be passed in wider, cleaner roads. He stabled his horse at an inn and, still wearing parts of his armour began to wander around, looking up from doorway to doorway to read in heavy, gothic script the names of their occupants. The courts of Florence, Paris, Constantinople and Amsterdam passed by, all adorned with proud, billowing flags and watched over by armed guards in various uniforms. The flag of Madrid was nowhere to be seen and after an hour or so of searching, Richard sat down in an inn, rubbing the coarse stubble on his strong jaw and wondering what he could do next. He contemplated forgetting it all and heading back for Jenny, or retiring to his fathers house for a period of rest. He felt lost and tired.
As he sipped his beer, depressed at the futility of his search a figure in a dark, hooded cloak sat down on the opposite side of his table.
"Senor, you seek Lady Isabella? I can take you to her." said a female voice, which sounded like it rolled out of an orange grove on sun drenched, Mediterranean foot hills, from beneath the hood. Richard's eyes stared in shock at the space beneath the hood.
"Who art thou?" he demanded "And how in the seven circles of Hell did thou know of my quest?" The silky Spanish voice, much softer than anything Isabella was capable of replied,
"I am of no importance, but if thou follows me, I will take you to her world." she stood and walked towards the door as Richard choked down the last of his beer and hurriedly followed her out.
They walked down the streets in silence, gliding in between horses and men, like a determined arrow, intent on fore filling it's goal without distraction. He passed the same embassies as before and still saw no sign of Madrid's flag. The caped girl stopped suddenly in the street and motioned Richard down an alleyway, which was dark and almost invisible between two other elaborate embassies. He walked down it, now followed by his guide who pointed to an unmarked simple door not more than 20ft down the passage. He knocked, and after a brief interval it opened to reveal darkness behind it. He stepped into the gloom and heard the door close behind him. He stood in pitch for a minute or two, before a thick curtain was swung back to reveal glimmering gold and what must have been a thousand candles illuminating a gloriously decorated tunnel of a room.
After gazing at the room he turned to ask something of his guide, who was nowhere to be seen. He began walking into the room, over warm stone floors, littered with fine silk cushions and beautiful fainting couches with a large bed in the centre. The walls were covered with eastern art in the form of mosaics depicting strange figures doing even stranger things to each other, bending in the most unbelievable positions. Gold leaf and candles floated in large glass bowls, while exotic incense burned by the side of a large pool which dominated the far wall of the room. He stood in the glimmering light and the hot, moist air gazing in disbelief at his sumptuous surroundings.
"It's not the official reception room, you'll understand, but my friends prefer less obvious surroundings and a lack of windows." said Isabella's voice from behind him. She was nearly naked, except for a bejewelled, gold belt with a long white cotton loincloth flowing between her strong, tanned thighs. Her hair was up, in a bundle of black curls and her large, sumptuous and perfectly formed breasts were oiled and glistened in the bright candle light.
"Who are you?" asked Richard as a group nearly naked figures, both male and female, filtered into the room and took up relaxed positions on the couches around him. Some wore masks while others had had their skin painted in bright patterns.
"You know who I am, Richard, but I think you wanted to ask the question 'why am I so interested in you?' Am I right?"
