Alinor (26 page)

With a totally bland expression, Ian agreed warmly. "Of course. Have I not had repeated demonstrations of your gentleness? I know you so meek and mild that a single angry word is too great punishment. I am sorry to hear of your jealousy, of course. However, since you are so biddable, so amiable, in all other ways, I needs must make the best of this small crotchet."

Beaten at her own game, Alinor could only laugh. She was relieved to see that the swelling was greatly reduced, although the blue, black and green discoloration seemed greater. Very gently, Alinor probed Ian's kneecap. He stiffened but did not wince away or protest. As well as she could feel, the bone seemed whole. This news was very welcome. Ian confessed he had felt it himself two days before but could make nothing of it. Then a lively discussion ensued. Alinor proposed that Ian remain abed; he swore in response that he would have his clothes off and bathe if it cost his life. Although Alinor knew this was the thin edge of the wedge, his need was very apparent. His skin was caked with dirt; she could see the lice in his hair; and he stank to high heaven—even to Alinor's hardened nose. Ian's proposal won.

The movement from bed to bath and out again seemed to do so little harm, even though Ian had to bend his leg a little in the tub, that it was far less unreasonable when he said he would go down to his guests.

"I must, you know," he insisted, forestalling Alinor's objections. "I dare not ask this one and that one to come up here to talk. Each will wonder what the other said, and also that would be an unhealthy tale to carry back to the king—and someone is sure to carry it. Worse yet would be for all the great lords to come together away from the tale bearers."

A compromise was reached. Alinor bound Ian's leg to a splint that would prevent him from bending his knee, and he agreed to use a crutch. With this protection and the help of two sturdy menservants, he was got down the stairs in time to break his fast with the guests. As was natural, his arrival was greeted with loud and ribald jests about his reluctance to yield up his single state for married blessedness. Several warm offers to take his place were proposed, and various inducements were offered to Alinor to throw over so reluctant a groom and choose one more eager.

To the company's huge delight, this brought Adam to his stepfather's defense. He bounded up from where the young people were seated and proclaimed sturdily that Lord Ian
did
wish to marry his mother. Lord Ian had said so, and he was no liar. What was more, Adam insisted pugnaciously, Lord Ian had been occupied upon his mother's business, and that was what made him late. Ian's voice, gravely thanking his ardent supporter, overrode various sounds of strangulation as the good-natured crowd smothered its amusement. Satisfied at routing the enemy, Adam returned to his proper place again, but that was the end of that sort of joke. Whatever animosities those in the group had for one another, few were directed at the bride and groom and, even if small spites that could be relieved by a jest existed, no one wished to distress Alinor's children.

Unfortunately, the next shafts of humor were less harmless. It started innocently enough with Robert of Leicester rolling his goblet of wine between his hands and complimenting Ian on the entertainment they were being offered. Ian raised a quizzical brow, unsure of whether this was a sincere compliment directed at Alinor or a prelude to some teasing remark. The lively, laughing Robert of Leicester seemed to be unlike his father, who had been a grave, ponderous man, slow of movement (except on the battlefield) and heavy of appearance. In actuality, both had the same keen, quick mind and the same steady, single-minded devotion to the quiet development of their own property and power. This apparently selfish motive produced really excellent results.

Neither of the Leicesters were violently acquisitive men, the younger Robert more because of the example of his father than from his own peaceable intentions. Thus, they were not prone to attack their neighbors for an imagined insult. This mildness had brought them huge increases in wealth and influence. During the violent upheavals of the civil war, when Henry sought to wrest the throne from Stephen, their lesser neighbors had voluntarily begged for their protection and had taken vassalage under them. Stephen, wishing to have at least one great baron who was not ready to leap to arms, confirmed these arrangements and even seissined more estates upon them. Because the restrained behavior was accompanied by a lively intelligence, a good strong arm when challenged, and a deep understanding of affairs, the property had remained intact and had even grown under Henry's and Richard's rules.

The Leicesters had always done the king good service and had been decently rewarded. What was often forgotten was that their loyalty, like Alinor's, was to their own lands and not to any king. Old Robert had been a favorite of Stephen's for many years, yet when he saw that Henry was the stronger and that, if a strong king did not soon curb the realm, complete chaos would result, old Robert changed sides and gave his strength to Henry. There had been no need to shift between Henry and Richard; that war was fought on the continent, and old Robert was a past master at evading his military feudal duties.

It was young Robert who faced the choice between Richard and John. He had not set a foot amiss. Sweet words were offered to both—and nothing else. Young Robert watched his herds increase, watched his serfs garner rich crops, listened to the contented talk of his vassals and thought to himself that his father's ways were good ways. Because he was a young man and strong of his hands, he fought gladly in the Crusade and in the wars Richard waged against Philip of France. England lay at peace, and it was cheaper to fight himself, leading his own vassals and men-at-arms, than to pay knights to take his place. When John continued the war so lamely that he lost Normandy, Robert was not among the army. And when the treaty had been signed with Philip, Robert went to France and made his own arrangements. Unlike nine tenths of the English barons who had lost their Norman lands, Leicester's still belonged to him.

Needless to say, Robert of Leicester did not approve of John's desire to invade Normandy in 1204. He had supported the barons' refusal, although he had not been among their spokesmen. Thus King John's wrath did not fall directly upon him, as it had upon William of Pembroke. Still, he could see the handwriting on the wall, and each year the taxes pinched him harder and took a larger number of cattle and sheep from his herds and a larger number of bushels from his grain.

"I make special remark of the richness of our entertainment," Robert said innocently in reply to Ian's half-cautious, half-questioning look, "because if you had delayed a few weeks in your wedding, I am afraid you would not have had the wherewithal to furnish us food and drink so lavishly."

Ian's eyes flew to Alinor and hers to him. Did Robert know of the grudge King John had against her? And if so, how did he know?

"You must think me a poor housewife to be so ill-prepared for the lean months of winter not to be able to feed my guests," Alinor responded with a laugh.

"Lady Alinor, I meant no such thing, and you know it," Leicester replied, more seriously than Alinor liked. "I have guested here often enough, and I know well your matchless skill at management. However, you can- not feed guests with that which has been taken away to enrich another's store."

"None can take—" Alinor began, bristling, but Ian laid his hand over hers.

"Are you trying to insult me, Robert?" he asked, grinning. "I never knew you to be so unkind or to add shame to a man already stricken down. Just because I fell victim to a child's trick and scraped my knee―"

"No," Leicester drawled, "I do not think a scraped knee, nor a broken one either, could hold you back from guarding your own—except against one single force. I have heard—from a good and reliable source— that the king will demand a thirteenth of our goods when he comes again to England."

Not only the high table fell silent but the tables at which the vassals and castellans sat also. As the words were whispered to the lower tables, farther and farther away down the hall, silence fell upon them also. This touched every man, down to the serfs, who were not present but would ultimately pay for all. The eyes of the silent faces were not turned toward Leicester, who sat three places down from Ian on the left of his own wife, who followed Lord Llewelyn and Joan in the seating, according to protocol. Everyone looked toward the Earl of Salisbury, who sat at Alinor's right hand.

He shrugged. "I cannot deny there was some talk of it. What was decided, I do not know. My wife sent me an urgent message that I must come home."

"I was very ill," Lady Salisbury's whining voice confirmed from her husband's side. "I had such beatings of the heart, such pains of the eyes and dizziness of the head that I could not lift myself from my pillow."

Alinor did not doubt that Salisbury had received such a letter. Probably he had received one exactly like that twice or thrice a week the entire period of his absence. Perhaps, Alinor thought, with a flash of amusement, she had overestimated Salisbury's good nature. It would be a shame to rid oneself of such a good excuse to come and go from the king's presence. While Salisbury wished to be with his half brother, he had only to commit Lady Ela's letters to the flames. When he wished to go, it was only necessary to present the pathetic missive.

That was all less to the point than why Salisbury had left John. It was possible he came early to England out of love of Ian, to lend his presence to the wedding and thus soften John's spite. Certainly, he had asked sincere and anxious questions about Ian's lameness. There were, however, more interesting reasons that could be suggested. Had Salisbury come to spread the news about this new tax so that the shock when John announced it would be less? Had he opposed his brother's will in this matter and left either in pique or in disgrace?

"Of course it does not matter to me," Lord Llewelyn remarked. "A thirteenth of nothing is still nothing. North Wales is a poor land, and any man who wants a thirteenth—or any other portion—of its wild flocks can come and hunt them through the hills. Still, I send my people out to hunt
before
a war, not after. Money is needed for fighting, not for peace. I understand, moreover, that the king had great success in this campaign. Was there no booty?"

"Llewelyn," Joan murmured, "do not be so mischievous. This is not the time or place to make trouble."

"There could not be much booty," William of Pembroke's deep voice rumbled from the right of Lady Salisbury. "Since the lands were his to begin with, the king could have no profit in stripping them."

Salisbury looked down the table. "That is generous, Pembroke," he remarked.

"It is just," William replied stiffly.

"Still, there must have been rich ransoms," Leicester commented. "I heard Montauban was stuffed with Philip's nobility."

"You heard aright, but the ransoms did not go to the king, beyond a moderate share," Ian pointed out pacifically. "I had my portion, as did all who took part in the assault."

"Well, that is true enough," Leicester agreed. He had made his point and did not wish to embarrass his host and hostess.

"It was kind of you to warn me, Robert," Alinor said swiftly, before anyone could introduce another sensitive topic. "Now that I know, I shall put you all to work for your dinners. My huntsman has reported a fine boar lies up only a mile or two into my forest. Who will come with me to bring him down for the table?"

A chorus of enthusiastic response covered Ian's startled oath. "You will not go to hunt wild boar!" he exclaimed.

"No, of course not," Alinor assured him softly. At another time she might have teased him by insisting she would hunt with the men just to see how angry he would get before he realized she was teasing; but that was for private play. "I must ride out, of course, but I promise I will not dismount."

"Do not stay too near," Ian cautioned. "If the boar should break away wounded, he will go for a horse as quick as for a man.
Peste!
I wish I had more wits than to fall off my feet like a puling infant."

"Do not fret, love," Alinor murmured. "I will keep my huntsmen by me. No harm will come to me."

There was no time for Ian either to respond to Alinor's endearment or to urge her again to be careful. The offer of a hunt brought breakfast to an abrupt end. Men swallowed what remained in their goblets at a gulp if they still thirsted, and crammed the remainder of their bread and cheese into their mouths if they still hungered. Most simply left what remained before them and rose to fetch cloaks or to change their fine garments to coarser wear.

Salisbury lingered a moment to bend over Ian and murmur, "I have spoken to Geoffrey. Ian, I cannot tell you how deep I am in your debt. Ask, and what I have will be given, up to and including my life. He is not the same child."

"You do not do your own son justice," Ian replied. "He is exactly the same child. He is a brave and steadfast boy. I have done nothing for him except to make him happier and to improve his swordplay and riding a little. We are quits, William. I have given you a more contented son, and you have given me a squire I can trust to the uttermost. You owe me nothing."

Salisbury shook his head. "I will not argue with you. I have said what I feel and what I mean. There is something else I wish to speak to you about. I wish I could stay, but if I do, there will be too many odd looks over it. Just tell me, who is Lady Joanna?"

"Joanna! My daughter—I mean, Alinor's daughter. What-"

To Ian's surprise, Salisbury broke into a roar of laughter and clapped him so heartily on the back that he jostled his knee. By the time Ian had ungritted his teeth, unsure whether his still tender back or his sore leg hurt worse, Salisbury was gone. Alinor had already left with the other more adventurous ladies to change her dress. Ian cursed under his breath and signaled to a manservant whom he instructed to pull back the bench so he could hoist himself to his feet. A strong hand seized him under the armpit and hauled him up almost painlessly.