Queen's Knight

This is the beginning of my story Queen's Knight. Let me know what you think.

She watched them as they passed in the distance, peeking from behind her father’s strong legs, strands of her wild brown hair falling into wide blue eyes. Sunlight glittered on black armor, heavy shod feet sending rumbles through the earth, clouds of dry dust puffing from the hot road, the jingle of mail and the horses’ tack dancing harshly. Black standards edged with grey rose from the column, hanging limp in the summer air.

“Da, who are they?” she whispered, staring as the never ending procession of man and beast snaked past.

“It’s the Black Court,” he said, “They are marching to meet the White Court.”

“The Black Court,” she repeated in awe. She had heard the words before, but it had always seemed unimportant, a vague distant idea that had no import in her life. Now though, looking at this great army, it was a term to treat with respect. Her eyes traveled over the line, the soldiers’ faces all shadowed beneath intimidating black helms. Except one. Her gaze was drawn to one, riding bareheaded, a snow-streak blazing through silk black hair that fanned across shoulders clad in burnished black. It was a woman! She rode expertly on a prancing, fiery coal stallion, her light armor as practical as that of the men who surrounded her, yet somehow more feminine. “Who is she, Da?” she asked excitedly, pointing to the lady.

“She is the Queen,” he told her, a smile in his voice at her enthusiasm, but there was also wariness. As if she had heard them, the woman turned her head, looking toward the pair on the hill, her dark eyes seeming to find Kaliesa’s. She gasped in wonder as the strong gaze held hers. Slowly the Queen raised a gloved hand, giving a regal, lazy wave. Kaliesa clutched her father’s trousers, not quite daring to wave back. Then the moment passed and the Queen turned the attention back to the road before her. Kaliesa stared after her, the rest of the army insignificant in comparison, until she caught sight of an ornate litter just behind the Queen.

“Who is in there?” she inquired curiously, the swaying curtains concealing the passenger.

“That is the King,” her father said. She frowned. The King? Always before, when the King had been mentioned, Kaliesa had had the hazy image of a big man, with a bushy beard, wielding a huge sword. She had not imagined him riding hidden in a litter. She huffed in disgust. It was a weak man who sat in a flimsy contraption while his army rode to war. She turned her eyes back to the Queen, dismissing such a king. The Queen, though, was a warrior queen, an angel of war. “Come on, Kali-girl, let’s go in,” her father said, ruffling her hair. “They’ll be passing by all day.” He turned and began walking back towards their little farm. Kaliesa stood still on the hill, her eyes shining as a tiny dusty breeze swirled through her hair. One day, she swore silently, one day she would meet the Queen. One day she would serve her as a member of the Black Court.