Knight: Once a Knight Part 21

Edlyn spoke matter-of-factly. "New lovers want all attention for themselves."

"And how do you know that?"

"Philippa told me."

"Philippa discussed Sir David and me with you?"

"Philippa tells me much, trying to prepare me for marriage," Edlyn answered.

Feeling irked and strangely hurt, Alisoun said, "If you have questions, you should come to me."

"I thank you, my lady, but although your experience in most issues I hold in the utmost respect, in this one issue I would prefer Philippa's council."

Edlyn spoke pleasantly, giving the rebuke in a manner Alisoun recognized-it was much like her own.

Walking toward the training yard, Alisoun kept her spine stiff and her shoulders squared, and everyone moved well back, bowing and tugging at their forelocks.

"My lady." Sir Walter bowed before her and Lady Edlyn. He kept a constant eye on the proceedings in the training yard and scowled at any bold souls who came too near to Alisoun. "Have you once again come to watch your expensive apprentice?"

Alisoun's gaze lingered on the two men who engaged in throwing light lances at a straw target, and she didn't make the mistake of thinking Sir Walter spoke of Hugh. From the irritation in his voice, she guessed that David had been antagonizing him again.

Before she could try and ease his offense, he held out his hand, palm up. "Never mind me, my lady. I try not to be offended by his hostility, for I fear I deeply offended him when I opened him to the ridicule of your folk."

"That could be the reason for his rude and unnecessary animosity, of course, but I expect more from my..." she hesitated.

"Consort," Sir Walter promptly finished.

Edlyn giggled.

Alisoun glared.

Holding out the flat of his hand, Sir Walter looked toward the sky. "We're due for another rain soon, I suspect."

Alisoun couldn't take teasing. Not about that. Not about a legend it seemed all of her people believed.

Sir Walter realized it, because his expression changed from teasing to compa.s.sion, and he said, "I beg you, my lady, pardon me. I thought to ease your discomfort about that legend, but I will mention it no more."

She nodded gratefully, then with none too much grace, she changed the subject. "What do Ivo and Gunnewate think of Sir David's improving skill?"

Sir Walter's face changed at once. Harshly, he said, "I don't ask men-at-arms their opinions."

Sir Walter might have sought reconciliation by humbling himself to her, Alisoun realized, but he still thought well of himself. A crab didn't file his claws, but waved them to display his strength. Sir Walter was a crab.

Unaware of her amus.e.m.e.nt, he continued, "I seldom have seen a man blessed with a combination of such natural skill and dogged determination as Sir David." He stroked the dangling strands of his beard. "I'm not saying you got what you paid for, understand. If it were me, I'd be demanding he account for his failures. But you're a woman, easily led astray, and at least he's willing to better himself." He leaned against the fence and muttered loudly enough for her to hear, "He'd be a fool not to, with the gold you're paying him."

A yell from the field distracted her before she could chide Sir Walter. Glancing up, she saw Hugh go down under an unexpected attack from David. In only a moment, David had Hugh pinned, a knife at his throat. "Wha-what happened?" she stammered, climbing up on the bottom rail of the fence to catch a better view.

"I like that." Sir Walter grinned. "He's knocking the arrogance right out of Hugh. I can't tell the youth anything anymore. My woman says I'm like a father to him, and since he's grown beyond my skills, he doesn't listen to a word I say. That David has taught him a thing or two."

"I don't understand."

"David heard Hugh say a true knight doesn't use a paltry weapon like a knife for any reason but to spear his meat. But David's teaching him differently. Told him that a mercenary knight spent more time in dark streets and isolated inns than in tournaments and sieges. Said Hugh had best learn to defend himself from others, poorer even than a mercenary, who would seek his armor and his horse with the point of a dagger." Sir Walter nodded as David took the point of the knife away from Hugh's throat and offered a hand. "In this area, at least, David is by far Hugh's superior."

Hugh took David's hand in every evidence of grat.i.tude, then jerked his mentor down and over his head. While David floundered, Hugh jumped on his back and began pounding his face into the gra.s.s. Alisoun didn't see what happened next, but she thought it had to do with David's elbow, for Hugh doubled up and rolled off, groaning.

David levered himself up, leaned over Hugh, and said something. From the smirk he cast on the writhing youth, it obviously wasn't a compliment.

"My lady, may I go to him?" Edlyn asked.

For one wild, jealous moment, Alisoun thought Edlyn wanted to help David. Good sense returned, and she realized Edlyn spoke of Hugh. Curtly, she said, "Nay. Go inside and ask Philippa to help you with your spinning." Edlyn didn't move, and Alisoun turned on her sharply. "Now!"

Edlyn gave a little sob as she fled, and Alisoun saw the horror on Sir Walter's features as he realized Edlyn's infatuation. She could see the words hovering on the tip of his tongue-You're setting a bad example for the girl-but he restrained himself.

She was setting a bad example, she knew, but she had no choice. At various times, her conscience smote her, and she tried to barricade the door of her bedchamber or refuse to have commerce with her lover, but David would not accept nay for an answer.

In an undertone, Sir Walter asked, "Have you told your hero yet why you hired him to protect you?"

"'Tis not necessary that he know," she answered as quietly. "Only that he do it."

"He's a hard man." Sir Walter watched as David strolled toward them. "What makes you think he will see it any differently than I do?"

She wanted to say that he would. In sooth, life had made David hard, but he showed compa.s.sion every day-to Eudo, to the servants, to all who had not his strength. But he was a man, and what man would ever support her in her course?

The doubt Sir Walter saw in her face satisfied him, for he smiled without humor. "Aye, and he could lose everything for a.s.sisting you. Everything he's labored for all his life. Have you thought on how he will extract his vengeance on you for that?"

David loomed over Sir Walter's shoulder. Dirt and blood stained his face, and he clearly didn't like the whispered conversation he'd interrupted, but with every evidence of respect, he bowed before her. "My lady."

"Sir David." She nodded graciously, playing the game as it should be played. It was absurd, she supposed, to be so formal when Sir David disappeared into her solar every night and never left until the morning, but he seemed to want everyone to know he still respected her person and her station.

He nodded as well to Sir Walter, and Sir Walter nodded back. "Good work," he said gruffly, jerking his thumb toward the still-groveling Hugh. "Out there."

"Aye. The practice goes well. Hugh improves every day." David turned to Alisoun. "As do I."

"Both Hugh's progress and your own are pleasing to me." Her answer came automatically even as she confronted again the effort he made every day to bring his body back to its former condition. She admired his persistence with every fiber of her being, as well as his unfailing sense of humor in the face of his occasional humiliating failure.

If only he acted more like other men in every way, she would have better luck dismissing his pretensions. If only he had strutted and crowed the morning after she yielded to him, rather than acting irritated. With her! As if she had denied him something that was his right.

"The other squires are performing well, too." David spoke as Eudo came across the field, dragging a full bucket. Accepting a dipper of water from the lad, he drank deeply, then took a white rag from Eudo's hand and smeared it across his own face in a halfhearted effort at cleanliness. Alisoun winced as the cloth sc.r.a.ped across old scabs and new wounds. "And Eudo is a constant companion." David smiled down at Eudo, opening the cut on his lip where fresh blood now oozed.

She couldn't stand it anymore. She climbed through the fence rails, took the rag from his hand, and dipped it in the bucket. "Sit down," she told David, and while Eudo dragged over a stool for his master, she said, "Eudo exceeds all expectations in performance both on the field and in the keep. Now sit down, Sir David."

David bowed in ready deference. "As you command, my lady." Sinking onto the stool, he turned his face up to hers, closed his eyes and awaited her ministrations.

She glanced around. Everyone, especially her own people, leaned over the fence, waiting with avid attention for her to touch him. It wasn't as if she had never tended another's wound. She was the lady, required by tradition to care for the injured. But her folk seemed to see this as something special, a sign of her emotions.

It wasn't. She couldn't stand to see dirt. They knew that. And no woman with a shred of compa.s.sion would leave a man to bleed.

Then Avina from the village said, "She's going t' wash him wi' the water from the sky."

Alisoun set her teeth in annoyance, but Sir Walter said, "Of course it's from the sky, you slop-brain. Where else would it be from?"

"That's rainwater." Fenchel made the distinction precisely. "Not from the well, an' not from the stream. It'll heal him more quickly because their mating called it from the sky."

David's eyes popped open. "What are they talking about?"

He hadn't heard that absurd tale, and Alisoun didn't want him to. She looked to Sir Walter in appeal.

In a loud and companionable voice, Sir Walter said, "Have you noticed, Ivo, how there is none of the normal jesting with my lady and Sir David that accompanies a newly formed union?"

In his rough way, he was trying to help her by changing the subject, but David scowled. Everyone in the castle and the village had been stricken with delicacy. No one mentioned David's nightly visits to her solar, because David refused to allow anyone to bandy her name about. He both demolished her reputation and protected it.

"I think it's because of that frown." Sir Walter pointed out easily, as if he expected David to be displeased. At the same time, he inched away. "When Sir David wishes, he can look ferocious, like a dangerous beast loose in our midst."

Sir Walter wasn't making things better. He was making them worse. Still he b.u.mbled on. "We're throwing our lady to him as tribute, fearing to stand in his way."

David bunched his fists. "Sew your yap shut," he ordered.

Fenchel didn't seem to hear David. Instead he gently corrected Sir Walter. "It's that together, they make the rains come. M'lady yields t' him because she must, t' help her people."

With a compelling stare at Alisoun, David inquired, "You yield to me because you must? What nonsense is this?"

It was nonsense, of course. He'd made her a vow when he'd left her sitting on the table, almost naked and almost defenseless. He'd sworn to come to her bed and make her welcome him.

Every night since, he'd kept his word without an invitation, without caring for her mood or her desires. But always, somehow, he made her mood and desires his. She could have told herself she yielded because she had to, but she didn't lie. She yielded because he excited her, because what he taught her she could never learn from another man. Sometimes the hours drifted, one into the other, while he caressed her, kissed her, gifted her with pleasure. Other times he treated her as if he were a conqueror taking her as his right. Always, she fell asleep satisfied, knowing herself treasured above all women.

"Come, come, old man," Sir Walter said in a jocular tone. "Lady Alisoun hardly considers taking Sir David to her bed a sacrifice. From the sounds issuing from the room, I'd say it was quite the opposite."

Alisoun winced, and David leaped to his feet. Striding toward Sir Walter, he said, "You don't talk about my lady Alisoun in such a familiar manner. She's not yours. She'll never be yours. And I'll kill if you if you ever disparage her again."

"David!" Alisoun grabbed his arm, but he shook her off.

Sir Walter backed away from David, waving his hands. "Nay. I meant no harm! I only tried to distract you from that which my lady didn't wish you to know."

With a growl of animal rage, David grabbed Sir Walter by the chest, then pushed him backward into a puddle.

"Into th' sky water," Avina commented with approval.

Sir Walter came off the ground in a flurry, ready to attack David. Then he hesitated. David could beat him. He knew it, David knew it, and he had no wish to prove it to everyone in George's Cross. Yet David's blow had stripped him of prestige and authority. Taking one step back, he spat at David's feet, then stalked away.

This wasn't what Alisoun had intended. Lately, nothing made sense. Not Sir Walter and his b.u.mbling attempts to ingratiate himself. Not David, angry that she dared try to keep any possible child from him. Angry about something else, too, and not just that she wouldn't marry him. Although she couldn't comprehend the workings of his mind, she knew that without a doubt.

David looked at her with his blazing eyes and dared her to complain.

She shuddered beneath the impact of his gaze.

Sometimes she imagined she was a gemstone swept along by a relentless river, formed and shaped by the current. It tumbled her along into ever deeper waters, and sometimes she feared to drown. Other times...well, other times she welcomed the turbulence.

She didn't understand it. During the day, her mind controlled her actions. But at night, it was as if another being ruled. A being with urges blatantly opposed to the Alisoun she thought she was. She couldn't help but wonder if it wasn't the same being David called forth when he laughed at authority. Being with David exposed a whole new part of herself, and she had to wonder-and worry-what else he would reveal.

Without a word, she handed him the rag and walked away.

15.

David watched Alisoun leave and didn't know whether to worry or shout for joy. Over and over again, he would think she had grown used to him. Then she would skitter away like a wild bird, and he realized he was no closer to understanding her than before. She was a constant enigma, but lately he'd begun to suspect that G.o.d and all the saints were on his side, and he'd win this battle as he had any other-with a combination of skill, intelligence, and luck.

Standing, he leaned over the bucket and washed until Eudo told him he'd eliminated the worst of his grime. Then, taking the wet rag, he followed Alisoun's trail. He followed her easily. Everyone he encountered indicated where she'd gone. Only after he left the castle walls did he have to use his tracking skills, searching for the bent gra.s.ses into the woods, then seeking the leaves and branches that showed the signs of her pa.s.sing. He caught sight of her as she broke into the woodland meadow, and he watched from the shadows as she spread her arms wide to the sunshine. Then she whirled in circles like some Crusader's heathen bride. He crept closer, fascinated by the open elation she displayed, and when she dropped to the ground, he waited in suspense to see what else she would do.

She did nothing, only covering her eyes with both hands as if worry had overcome her or she'd been drained by the burst of emotion.

She was behaving uncharacteristically, he thought, as he walked to her side. But that was to be expected of a woman in her condition.

She didn't move. It seemed to him she was thinking too hard to notice anything outside of herself, but when he moved to block the sun from her face she came off the ground with her fist up.

"Whoa!" He waved the white rag above his head in mock surrender. "Don't hurt me, my lady. I'm a peaceful man."

She let out her breath in a half-laugh and dropped her fist. "Of course you are." She sounded as if she didn't believe it, and she sank back to the ground. "It's those who aren't so peaceful who concern me." Plucking the gra.s.s, she asked, "Why did you follow me?"

The truth would not do, at least not yet, so he offered the rag. "I need my face washed."

She looked at the rag, then at his face. "Do you?"

"According to you, my lady, I always need my face washed. Here." He shoved the rag into her hand. "Take it."

She held it gingerly as if she didn't want to touch it, or him, then spread it over her hand and sat up on her heels. He stretched out on the ground and wiggled around until his head rested in her lap, then squinted up at her. "I like this."

"You would."

She stroked the rag over the oozing sc.r.a.pes and David flinched. "Hey! Be gentle!"

"Being gentle won't get the dirt out of these sc.r.a.pes." With unusual enthusiasm, she scrubbed at the sore place on his forehead. "Hugh showed quite a bit of innovation with his use of the ground as a weapon."

"Everything he knows he learned from me," David mumbled as she pressed the rag against his split lip.

"You've worked miracles," she said.

"Enough miracles to justify another month's wages?"

The rag, and her hand beneath it, smacked against his already sore nose, and when he yelped, she apologized in her careful, measured tones. If he hadn't been in pain, he would have laughed-who would have thought, two months ago, that the correct Lady Alisoun would descend to such a petty revenge?

But she said, "You'll be paid on the day of the accounting, no sooner."