'Aye.' Dalian wiped his sweating brow on the back of his sleeve.
'Your father sent you to live in this scholar's hall?' Gareth probed.
'My father does not even know that I exist.' Dalian jerked his arm back down to his side. 'I don't know his name. I am a bastard, sir.'
Gareth met Dalian's fierce, anguished gaze and knew the depths of the younger man's fear as well as his rage. 'It would seem that you and I have something in common, minstrel.'
Dalian clearly did not want to hear that. 'At least you know your father's name. Thurston of Landry is a great lord. I know nothing of the man who sired me except that he was a knight on his way to a tourney. He found my mother alone in a field. He raped her and left her pregnant with me. He went on his way and never came back for either of us.'
'You are not the only product of such an unpleasant union,' Gareth said.
'You must find your own way in the world. At least you will have the satisfaction of knowing that everything you achieve will be won by your own hand. You may well discover that it is useful for a bastard to be able to handle a sword.'
'I intend to make my living as a minstrel, or mayhap as a scholar,'
Dalian retorted. 'I do not wish to make a career of splitting skulls or fighting other men's battles.'
Gareth caught Ulrich's eye. 'It would seem that my lady's poor opinion of fighting men has infected the entire household.'
Ulrich's smile came and went. 'Aye.'
'We must see if we can change her mind.'
'I'm sure you will find a way to prove yourself useful,' Ulrich said.
'You always do.'
Gareth returned his attention to Dalian. 'Was your mother the one who arranged for you to be fostered in the house of this scholar you mentioned?'
Dalian shook his head. The hunted look reappeared in his eyes. 'My mother loved me. She would never have sent me away. But she died when I was eight. Soon afterward my aunt sold me to my master. I mean, my former master.'
Gareth frowned. 'She sold you to him?'
'Aye.' Dalian's mouth tightened. 'He gave her several cold coins in exchange for me. He wanted a healthy, intelligent lad, he said. One who could be trained to be his assistant.'
'This scholar…' Gareth said slowly, 'he was a harsh master?'
Dalian flinched as if he had been struck by a whip. 'He does not?I mean, he did not tolerate any mistakes.'
'Are you here on Desire because you have run away from his household?'
Gareth asked quietly.
'Nay.' Dalian looked terrified now. 'Nay, I did not run away. I always obeyed my lord's commands.' There was a glazed expression in his eyes.
'Always. But he was never satisfied. Never. I could not please him, although I tried my best. No matter what I did, I could not please him.'
William touched Dalian's arm in an awkward gesture. 'Remember what Lady Clare said, Dalian.'
'Aye.' Dalian drew several deep breaths. His eyes refocused.
'What did Lady Clare say?' Gareth asked.
Dalian scowled. The fear in his eyes was gone. 'Tis not important.'
'She said Dalian was to remember that he was safe now,' William explained. 'When Dalian first came here, he could not sleep at all at night and he was very anxious.'
'That is not true,' Dalian hissed.
'Aye, 'tis true.' William turned back to Gareth. 'Poor Dalian was always jumping at the smallest sounds. I came around the corner once and surprised him in the hall outside Clare's study and he nearly fainted.
Is that not so, Dalian?'
'Say no more.' Dalian whirled furiously on William. 'That is enough. My health is no concern of Lord Gareth's.'
'But it is my concern,' Gareth said. 'As is the state of the health of every man under my command.
Only men in good health can carry out their duties properly.'
'My health is excellent.' Dalian raised his chin in open defiance. 'And I am not under your command.'
'Aye, but you are, as is William.' Gareth straightened away from the table. 'The first thing we must do is see to your training. Ulrich, take both of these future knights downstairs to the courtyard and get them started in their careers.
William and Dalian are to begin practicing with arms immediately.'
'Aye, my lord,' Ulrich said. He grinned at William. 'Are you ready, lad?'
William looked dazzled. 'I am to learn how to use a sword?'
'That you are.' Ulrich strode across the room and ruffled William's hair. 'And how to care for armor and a good war-horse and how to defend your hall. Do you think you will enjoy learning all that?'
'Aye.' William looked up at him with glowing eyes. 'I shall enjoy that very much.'
'Come along, then.' Ulrich glanced at Dalian. 'You, too, minstrel.'
'Nay, you cannot force us to learn such things.' Dalian turned a desperate gaze on Gareth. 'Lady Clare will never permit it.'
Some of the enthusiasm faded from William's eyes. 'He's right, my lord.
Lady Clare will never allow us to begin a knight's training.'
'Lady Clare wanted a husband who could see to the defense of her isle,'
Gareth said. 'She has got one who can do that. I trust that she has sense enough to allow me to get on with the task.'
Clare, are you truly all right?' Joanna looked up from the bunch of lavender and mint that she was binding with a cord.
'Of course I'm all right.' Clare stood on tiptoe to hang another fresh bouquet upside down from the overhead drying rack.
The long shed where she and Joanna were working was one of a series of workrooms built against the curtain wall. It was filled with bunches of flowers and herbs in various stages of preparation. Many, such as the lavender and mint, were being allowed to dry. When the process was complete, they would be carefully composed into perfumes according to Clare's recipes.
Some of the complex mixtures made from dried flowers and herbs would be used to fill sweet bags for linen chests. Others would go into small, lidded pots designed to add a pleasant fragrance to chambers. Still others would be combined with oil and honey to create lush perfumes, lotions, and balms.
Clare loved the drying shed. She often walked through it as she did through her garden, delighting in one scent after another. She liked to close her eyes in the midst of the fragrant blossoms and create perfumes in her mind the way Dalian created ballads.
There was a very large bin at the far end of the shed where the dried blossoms and leaves were combined in huge batches. There they were mixed according to Clare's specifications.
Today the bin was heaped full of dried petals from early roses, mugwort, lavender, mint, and rosemary. Clare was still fussing with the concoction, deliberating whether to add cinnamon oil or oil of cloves to fix the scent.
Once she had made her decision, the dried materials would be stuffed into hundreds of small, exquisitely embroidered bags. The sweet bags would be taken to the spring fair in Seabern in a few days, along with the new batch of soaps that was being readied. There they would be sold to eager merchants.
'I have been concerned about you,' Joanna said.
'Why?' Clare slung another bunch of lavender onto a drying rack hook.
'There has been gossip all morning in the hall. By now it has no doubt reached the village.'
