Knight: Once a Knight Part 14

David caught Eudo when he lunged. Holding his struggling squire, David pointed at the stableboy. "You can, of course, say what you wish about Louis, but Louis understands every word you say, and he's not partial to insults about his disposition."

Siwate blanched and stepped back, and Eudo said, "Ha!"

David continued, "Lest you worry, however, let me inform you that Louis is no longer your responsibility. Eudo will now care for him."

Eudo froze, and Siwate retorted, "Ha!"

"Eudo is my squire, and he is not afraid of Louis."

From beside him, David heard Eudo's squeaky voice murmur, "Sir David, you made me swear to tell the truth..."

Lifting Eudo, David seated him on the high boards around Louis's stall. "Louis is a reasonable horse. He loves to terrorize those he doesn't know, but he'll accept you." David held his hand through the gate to offer the strong yellow cheese he'd saved. Observing the cheese, Louis stretched out his neck and with great care, nipped David's fingers. Cursing, David dropped the cheese, and Louis scooped it off the floor, then with teeth bared, showed it to David.

Siwate ran. Eudo shrank back so far he fell over backward onto a pile of hay. After baring his teeth back at the destrier, David said, "Louis is a reasonable horse."

Louis ate the cheese and exhaled the odor into David's face.

"When he's been exercised." David lifted the reins off the wall and stepped into the stall. Eudo peeked up over the wall, saw the horse accepting the restraints David placed on him, and clambered back into place. Louis reached out with his head and sniffed Eudo's foot. Eudo gripped the boards until his knuckles turned white, but he didn't stir as Louis worked his way up his leg. "That's your lad," David advised him. "Take care of him, and he'll take care of you."

Louis rolled his eyes at David.

"You can't nip him. That wouldn't be fair. And be careful not to step on him, his bones are still young and thin." David smiled at Louis and in a confidential tone said, "He's already broken his finger."

Louis nudged Eudo's hand, and Eudo hesitantly petted his head. "He's nice," the lad said in astonishment.

"He's the meanest piece of horseflesh you'll ever have the misfortune to meet." David opened the gate, then led the horse toward the door. "But he thinks he owns you now, and he protects those he owns."

Eudo hopped down and followed, staying well back from Louis's hooves. "Even b.a.s.t.a.r.d boys?"

David and Louis eyed each other with understanding, then David said, "Especially b.a.s.t.a.r.d boys. Do you think Louis's parents were wed?"

One shocked moment of silence. Then a boyish giggle.

David beckoned. "Come here, Eudo." When the boy stepped forward, David lifted him high enough to scramble into the saddle. Louis stood still for it, although it was early for him to have such tolerance, then he paced forward, letting Eudo get the rhythm of his gait. Eudo managed to let go of the mane long enough to wave at Siwate in a superior manner, and as they left the stable, Louis released from his hind end an opinion of its inhabitant that made the stableboy scramble away.

Eudo was still giggling when David led the destrier into the training yard, but he straightened when the other squires froze. Sir Walter froze, too, hand outstretched as he prepared to gut Andrew with a wooden sword.

Feeling foolish, David nodded amiably. "I've come to train the squires."

"I'll finish the accounts on the morrow," Lady Alisoun said as she knelt in between the fanatically neat rows of parsley and rue. "After all, it's not as if I'm actually shirking my duties. The herb garden needs to be weeded, also." Her long fingers grasped a weed firmly at its base and she jerked it up. "d.a.m.n," she muttered. She'd left the root in place, and before Tochi had withdrawn, he'd specifically forbidden such sloppy work.

Philippa grabbed Hazel's shirt and held her in place long enough to allow the kitten to escape the baby's grasping fingers. "The sunshine will do you good."

From the bailey that surrounded Tochi's pride and joy, the two women could hear willow branches rustling like satin hangings. Inside, the tall stone wall created a private world. Alisoun had carried the kitten in and it had promptly made a nest in her skirt and gone to sleep. But her constant slow progress down the row disturbed it, and at last it stretched and scampered away, exploring with a child's sense of adventure. Hazel crawled after, eyes intent, nappies in motion.

With a digger, Alisoun set to work freeing the root from the clinging dirt. The scent of damp earth rose to her nostrils, tantalizing her with the delectation of summer and the promise of harvest. "I've never weeded before, but my parents instructed me to learn all aspects of my demesne, so I'm grateful for Tochi's instruction."

Philippa laughed, although whether at her child or her lady, Alisoun did not know. "He certainly enjoyed giving it."

"He did, didn't he?" The root came out, and Alisoun sat back on her heels and waved it. Bits of dirt flew, but she didn't care; she was triumphant.

Philippa laughed again, and this time Alisoun knew she was laughing at her. "It's not often anyone can tell you anything."

Throwing the root into the slowly growing pile of weeds, Alisoun bent to her task again. "Am I so intimidating, then?"

"Not to me. Don't eat the dirt."

Surprised at the command, Alisoun looked up in time to see Philippa lunge after her daughter and pry her little fist open until the earth she clutched fell back on the ground. "Uck!" Philippa made a dreadful face at Hazel. "Don't eat that. Nasty."

Fascinated, Hazel stared at her mother. Then her bottom lip came out and quivered, her big eyes filled with tears, and she sat up and bawled like a calf.

Alisoun couldn't help it; she laughed aloud. It had been a long time since she'd done so, and she laughed again when Philippa gave her a sour look.

Searching through her bag for something to distract Hazel, Philippa said, "Wait until you're a mother."

"A fearsome thought." Still grinning, Alisoun bent back to her task.

"I think you've waited almost too long as it is."

Alisoun looked up sharply. "What do you mean by that?"

Philippa handed Hazel a dried gourd. Hazel rattled it once, then threw it away so vigorously it dug into the loose soil. "You're turning into an old maid with a cat."

"That's not my cat!" She tried to see the sc.r.a.p of black fur that had so firmly attached itself to her, but it had disappeared, and she was glad.

Besides, it could scarcely come to harm in a garden surrounded by stone walls.

"Very well," Philippa said. "You're turning into an old maid."

Dumbfounded, Alisoun tried to joke. "I am the oldest widowed virgin in existence."

Apparently not even Philippa thought her amusing, for she dangled a string of colorful beads before Hazel's eyes and continued as if Alisoun hadn't spoken. "You're set in your ways. I don't think there's a man who could change you. I had great hopes for Sir David, but he's failed, so what's left but to hope for a child?"

Straightening, Alisoun rubbed the aching place on her lower spine. "What are you talking about?"

"You need to have a child."

Staring at Philippa, Alisoun tried to decide if this was some kind of new humor-the kind she didn't understand. The saints knew, that was likely. But Philippa stared directly back, as earnest as Alisoun had ever seen her. With impeccable logic, Alisoun prepared her answer. "I'm not married."

"Marriage isn't what brings the children," Philippa advised. "Bedding is."

"I know that." When Philippa grinned, Alisoun realized that that had been humor. "I mean, I'm the lady of George's Cross. I can't just take a lover and-"

"Why not?" Philippa demanded. "What's the use of being the lady of George's Cross if you can't do one wicked thing?" Bored with the beads, Hazel threw them after the gourd and grabbed another handful of dirt. As Philippa wrestled with her, she said, "I suppose I should say-one more wicked thing."

"My conscience is at rest. I confess my sin to the priest every day, and do the penance he a.s.signs."

"He's deaf," Philippa said in exasperation. "If he wasn't, the whole village would be excommunicated."

Alisoun subdued the smile that threatened to break out, and said primly, "G.o.d works in mysterious ways."

"Aye, He sent you Sir David!" Philippa lifted her voice above Hazel's new and loudly expressed indignation. "Give me your keys."

Alisoun touched the big iron ring of keys at her belt. "Why?"

"Because she's not supposed to have keys, and if she has something forbidden, she'll be happy."

Alisoun wanted to point out that this was a dangerous precedent to start, that if they rewarded the child for crying by giving her what she should not have, it would become a habit. But it occurred to Alisoun that Philippa had more than she could handle. Without a husband, Philippa had to love the baby, discipline the baby, worry about the baby all alone. Most of all, worry about the baby. Philippa hadn't lost weight as Alisoun did when she worried. She had actually become plumper, but nothing could erase the lines etched on her forehead.

Alisoun tossed the keys. They landed with a thunk among the lemon balm, uprooting one tall plant. The tart scent only accented Alisoun's horror, and Philippa hastily plucked the broad, broken leaves and replaced the herb. "Maybe Tochi won't notice," she said, and rattled the keys before Hazel's face. Hazel's eyes grew big and astonished; she reached for the keys eagerly, and Philippa placed the heavy ring in her lap. Satisfied that her child was entertained, she turned back to Alisoun. "Sir David would give you fine, plump babies for you to cradle."

"Then he'd be on his way."

"Perhaps. If you sent him. But I doubt he'd refuse you should you propose marriage."

"Why would I want a man like that? We're nothing alike."

"I don't know." A smile played around Philippa's face, and she plucked a weed or two from the ground. "Why do you want him?"

"What makes you think I want him?"

"I'm the one who chased the curious from the door of your accounting room."

Alisoun framed a tart response, then discarded it. This was Philippa, after all. She could tell her the truth. "He's awful. He laughs at customs, and at protocol that is right and proper."

"You're still angry because he went out to the kitchen and cajoled the cook into putting those live frogs in the pie sh.e.l.l so when you opened it they all jumped out and you screamed."

"Nay, that's not the bad thing." Alisoun wiped her hand on her ap.r.o.n. "I wanted to laugh."

Philippa did laugh. "There's hope for you, Alisoun."

"He's an evil influence on me." Philippa just grinned and shook her head, and Alisoun tried to impress the dire results of his personality on her. "One evening I sat and spoke with him for the pleasure of his company, and I didn't even busy myself with needlework."

"One evening," Philippa mocked.

"But once a person starts the slide down the winding road of sloth, she'll find it hard to claw her way back to the straight and narrow way."

"Do you have to quote Lady Frances to me always?" Philippa complained.

"She was the lady who fostered us!"

"She was a mean old woman who sucked the joy from life."

"I didn't know you felt that way. I am shocked."

Philippa flung her little pile of weeds at Alisoun, scattering them across the herbs. "Nay, you're not. You always thought that, too. You just never dared to admit it."

Alisoun withered like the uprooted lemon balm. "I am wicked. Do you know that when Sir David makes fun of the king for being so pompous, it's as if he saw into my mind and plucked my own thoughts before I had given them birth?"

"It's when he does that imitation of Sir Walter that I can scarcely contain myself."

"And Sir Walter doesn't even realize it's him."

The women looked at each other and burst out laughing.

Alisoun grew ashamed, sobered, and bent to her work again. "Do you realize that when he kisses me, I forget my duties?"

Philippa gurgled with what sounded like laughter, but when Alisoun looked at her she bent her head to the ground.

"My organization has suffered since he came, and when he-" The heel of his hand had brought her such strange feelings, but she couldn't bring herself to say that. "When Sir David applied physical manipulations to my skin, I almost lost control."

"Almost?"

"I did lose control."

"No wonder he's a legend," Philippa said reverently.

Shocked, Alisoun said, "Sir David is just as bad an influence on you as he is on me. You've never spoken this way before, and you certainly never suggested I should give birth without benefit of marriage."

"It's not Sir David who makes me say these things. It's living and thinking and doing everything that was proper and G.o.dly all my life, and then finding that my reward is exile and a life of fear." Philippa crushed some of the marjoram leaves in her hand and lifted them to her nose. "Marjoram for happiness. I want you to be happy."

In an odd sort of way, Philippa's suggestion began to make sense, and Alisoun feared it was because she, too, had considered bedding Sir David. Still she argued aloud. "He's not as n.o.ble as I am, and he's certainly not as rich."

"All the men who are n.o.ble and rich enough for you are old, disgusting creatures." Philippa plucked a few weeds from amongst the balm.

"Marriage is not for enjoyment."

"I know."

Alisoun wished she hadn't said that. Now Philippa pulled weeds with a vengeance, and a frown puckered her brow. But the words couldn't be called back, so Alisoun added, "And the king would be angry."

"Once the deed is done, he'd resign himself, wouldn't he? It wouldn't be the first time. Anyway, if it's not marriage you want, then fine. I understand that. But you need a babe."

"Why?" The kitten stalked through the row of parsley to pounce on one sprig which apparently taunted it.

"To inherit your lands."

Alisoun lifted the kitten free of the green forest before it ruined Tochi's best plants. "That's why you think I need a babe?"

A ghost smile touched Philippa's lips. "I think you just need a babe to love."

"I have this stupid, skinny, sharp-toothed kitten." Who clung like a burr as it climbed her bosom to stand on her shoulder, and who purred in her ear and rubbed its face against her cheek.

"That cat's not going to do it. Nothing makes you a real person like your own infant to care for, plan for. All the thinking in the world doesn't replace the excitement of holding your child for the first time, and when I look at Hazel-" Philippa stroked the baby's bald head, then wiped at the dirty streaks with her sleeve, "-it makes my insides squeeze all funny."

"That's attractive."

"I don't know how to describe it. You were always the clever one. All I know is if someone hurt Hazel-" Philippa's face lost expression and her eyes grew cold, "-I would kill him."