“Is that how you think I spend my days here?”
Actually, I fear that you also spend them plotting unspeakable things that will lead you to a horrible death.
She had avoided putting words on the last part of her fear before, but images of what happened after such treason hovered like a specter on her spirit.
“When I leave here, I often go to the practice field. I’m not such a fool as to neglect that.”
She glanced at the sword he had removed upon entering the tent. He always wore it, but then most knights did. One never knew when it would be needed.
She gave him a long consideration while he finished eating, then washed the worst of the mud off his face and wiped down his tunic. He had lost some weight, but she thought it had been their poor meals doing that, not hard practice. He appeared younger as a result, and it seemed to her that he had shaved with a fine blade, not only used the pumice stones like he normally did.
“I want you to change your garments into something better,” he said. “I’ve a guest coming soon, and you should not greet him in that old gown.”
“What guest?”
“You’ll see soon enough.”
She did as he bid, but resentfully. All that would happen was she would have two gowns with muddy hems to wash now. After changing, she set out two tumblers, some ale, and the rest of that cheese.
The guest arrived soon after. She almost died when she saw him. It was the man with the cunning eyes who had been talking to Sir Lionel yesterday. His name was Sir Gerwant, and as her father explained with a flourish, he was a member of Prince John’s household.
“What did you think of him?” Her father waited all of five minutes after their guest left before asking her that.
“He is a proud man and intends to become even more important than he thinks he is already.” She spoke while she washed out the tumblers and eyed the amount of ale that had been drunk. She would have to buy more now.
“He is at that. He is also unmarried at present. His wife died last year.”
“How sad.”
“I was thinking how fortunate, saints forgive me.”
It took her a moment to realize what he meant. “Did you invite him here so he could look me over? Are you mad enough to think I might replace this wife he had?”
“He did not think the notion so mad, especially after he saw you. I could tell.”
She laughed while she placed the tumblers back in their chest. “Such a man expects far more than I can bring him. What dowry would you offer?”
Her father did not respond to that. He just sat on that stool, thoughtfully.
She feared what he weighed in his head. There were dowries besides those of coin and land.
“I will not have him, so do not worry much over whether he is interested,” she said.
“You will have him if I say so,” her father snapped before getting up and leaving the tent.
Not if it requires you to do something dangerous and foolhardy, she thought.
She was still giving him a hard scold in her mind when another visitor arrived. A page, this time, from the castle. Lord Yves was inviting them to dine again but wanted to speak with Hugo of York prior to the feast.
Elinor sat at the back of a chamber in the lord’s quarters while her father spoke with Lord Yves. From the lord’s severe expression, and her father’s chagrin, she assumed he was being either scolded or warned. With Lord Yves angry enough to demand this private meeting to express his displeasure, she wondered at the miracle that once again they had been invited to dine in the Great Hall.
Her father walked toward her. She rose and fell into step with him. “What did he want?”
“It is what he doesn’t want, which is trouble inside his home. He commanded me to speak not one word to Sir Alexander tonight or be banished from these lands.”
She could tell her father resented being called to task like this. She sympathized, but if it kept rash words from being spoken, she was grateful to Lord Yves.
The meal would make her grateful too. As they walked down from the solar, she could smell the food being cooked out in the kitchen. Wonderful odors wafted through the castle.
“It will vex me, not to remind Alexander of his cowardice and how he will soon pay for it,” her father said, proving he did not think about the food.
“He was injured yesterday. Perhaps he can’t fight anymore this week.”
“He met several men today. And how do you know he was injured?”
“I heard about it while I was buying bread.”
“Hardly a wound that would keep a knight from fighting, but with a coward, one never knows.”
“Everyone saw the blood. Everyone saw how he charged even after being wounded. If you call him a coward for declining a challenge due to an injury—”
“How do you know about the blood, and how he charged?” He looked over at her suspiciously.
“I told you, many people were talking about it.”
“So now you worry he will not be fit for a challenge. Look at me, daughter. Watch me walk with one leg half sideways, like a crab. His wound is nothing in comparison and will be sufficiently healed by morning.”
They entered the Great Hall. Everyone was seated, and platters were arriving. A page brought her father to a spot on the lord’s left side. He escorted Elinor to one five places down from the lord on his right.
Zander again sat beside her, and Lady Judith again on his right. No priest warmed her left this evening. A knight had that place, one who was very tall and so blond it appeared the sun had kissed his hair. She learned he had come from Norway to compete. His English
