Lady Knight (11 page)

Riannon helped Eleanor dismount in the inner bailey of the castle. She secretly
gloried in even the impersonal touches of the lady. Eleanor graced her with a
warm smile and let her hand linger on Riannon’s arm. Riannon would have bartered
much for the opportunity to ride away with the lady, but Eleanor went to meet
the queen, and Riannon had pledged her own company to her sister Joan. So, she
parted from the lady with the promise to wait for her.

When Riannon entered the tower where Joan lodged, there were plenty of looks
again, but no delay in ushering her through to the Countess of Northmarch.

Joan received her with a smile and kiss on the cheek. “I feared that you’d not
come.”

Riannon followed Joan through a chamber filled with men who bore the
unmistakeable air of retainers waiting for their masters. There were too many of
them to belong only to her sister and brother-in-law. The men subjected her to
professionally measuring looks rather than the morbid fascination of those who
knew they looked upon a woman.

A servant opened a door for Joan. Riannon stepped after her sister and stopped.
Half a dozen men in lordly finery stood or sat near the empty hearth. The only
one to turn at Joan’s entrance was her husband, Humphrey, Earl of Northmarch.
He had grown even thinner and lost more hair in Riannon’s absence. With a grey
beard, he looked as gaunt and dour as a tomb effigy. He regarded Riannon with
hooded eyes that showed neither surprise nor warmth of welcome.

“They want us to surrender him to them?” A middle-aged man standing near the
hearth shook his head. “You cannot be serious.”

Riannon’s hand wanted to reach protectively for her sword hilt. She recognised
the speaker. In her eldest brother, Henry, she might be looking at her father
come to life again, down to the thrust of his chin, his bullish build running to
fat, and a faint, incongruous lisp. The likeness triggered memories of which he
had no part, but which stirred not one whit less of a trace of unease in her.
She did not want to be in this chamber. Joan had not warned her this would be a
family gathering.

“You expect no less from the imperial dogs, surely?” This speaker’s
grey-streaked black hair and green eyes marked him as another brother, but
Riannon did not know him. He dressed more neatly and richly than any of the
others, and had a slickness about his manner. “You did not think this ambassador
came merely to congratulate us on having a new queen?”

“Mayhap they came for the wine, women, and good company, like the rest of us.”
Guy, who lounged on the window seat across the room, lifted his goblet and
smiled at Riannon.

No one paid him much heed.

Riannon had no taste for remaining, and guessed few of her brothers would
welcome her presence, but Joan silently urged her to take a seat beside Guy.
Riannon complied with the reluctance of obligation. Guy offered Riannon his
wine. She shook her head.

“Was the Vahldomne – the hero of Vahl – not Irulandi?” a young man asked.

Vahldomne?
Riannon snapped her attention to the speaker. Surely none of her
family could know that she was the reluctant possessor of that soubriquet?

“That is our nephew Richard,” Guy whispered to Riannon. “The apple of brother
Henry’s eye – and his own.”

Riannon fleetingly grinned. Guy softly identified the well-dressed, older man as
their second-eldest brother Thomas.

“Is the Vahldomne not dead?” Thomas said. “Is he not supposed to have died of
his wounds within hours of Prince Roland’s death? Do the imperial dogs wish us
to dig him up and give his bones to them?”

Riannon frowned. The imperial ambassador wanted her?

“This must be some insult,” Humphrey said. “They cannot expect us to surrender
the man to them, be he dead or alive. He’s a hero precisely because he killed
their damned emperor’s son.”

Riannon’s frown deepened to a scowl. The man she’d killed at Vahl had been a son
of the Lion Emperor?

“Would they have handed over their precious princeling to us if he’d survived
after killing Prince Roland?” Richard said. “I think not!”

“Well, I care not what they want,” Henry said. “I’d as soon give this Vahldomne,
whoever he is, the pick of my daughters than tamely turn him over to them.”

Guy leaned close to Riannon to whisper. “I’ve seen our nieces. You’d need a
hero’s courage to accept any of them.”

Riannon grinned.

“Mayhap the emperor has been encouraged to think us ready to surrender things of
value that fall within our grasp,” Thomas said.

Henry glowered.

Even Riannon, stranger to her family and politics, understood that barb at
Henry’s not claiming the throne for himself. Against expectations, she felt some
sympathy and respect for him. Not another man in a thousand who found themselves
in his position would have resisted the temptation to grab a crown. Thomas
clearly numbered amongst the nine hundred and ninety-nine.

“That one would not let a clipped penny loose from his grasp,” Guy whispered.
“Unless, by doing so, he could gain two shining new ones in its place.”

“I wish that tattooed imperial bastard entered his name on the tourney list,”
Richard said. “What I’d not give to break lances against his fat hide and see
him eat grass.”

“You and every able-bodied man in the kingdom,” Humphrey said.

“Just you and your young hotspur friends remember that the ambassador and his
men have safe-conducts,” Henry said to his son. “You’ll not break our liege
lady’s sworn word.”

Richard’s pugnacious scowl looked a young mirror of his father’s. “You needn’t
lesson me in honour, father.”

“What honour is there in feasting and supping with our enemies, I wonder?”
Thomas said.

Henry, his face darkening with anger, turned on his brother.

“Perhaps there is more pleasure to be had in the company of enemies than
family,” Guy said.

Henry barked out a laugh. Thomas didn’t bother throwing even a contemptuous
glance Guy’s way.

“Let us not forget,” Joan said, “that we’re here to celebrate Henry’s wedding,
not start a fresh war.”

Henry’s gaze flicked from Guy to Riannon. “Atuan’s beard! Aymer. I knew not that
you were in Sadiston, little brother. What happened to you? Lost your prayer
books and half your weight, by the look of you.”

“You would’ve been better advised to remain at your devotions, if that scar is a
mark of your skill with a sword,” Thomas said.

Riannon glared at him.

“One of these days,” Henry said to Thomas, “I’m going to hear that someone has
ripped that poisoned tongue out of your head. My only question will be to ask if
they had the good sense to make you eat it.”

Richard laughed. No one else did.

“This is not Aymer,” Joan said. “Many of you will not have met our sister
Riannon.”

“
Sister?
” Henry swung his fierce frown from Joan to Riannon.

Riannon stood. “I am Riannon of Gast, your Grace.”

“The girl who would be a man,” Thomas said. “A fine addition to the family, eh,
Henry?”

“You’re no family of ours,” Henry said to Riannon. “Our father disavowed all
connection with you. I remember how you shamed our lord king, and our father.
You’re a disgrace. And still masquerading as what you are not.”

Riannon strode towards the door. Joan intercepted her and put a restraining hand
on Riannon’s arm.

“You needn’t leave,” Joan said.

“I’ve no place here,” Riannon said.

“A pity you didn’t remember that before you intruded on us,” Henry said. “Your
presence is a mockery.”

“If I’m nothing to you,” Riannon said, “I can hardly dishonour you.”

“What do you know of honour?” Henry said. “No woman understands it.”

“Can you be sure you talk to a woman?” Thomas said.

“You’re a living falsehood,” Henry said to Riannon. “An unnatural creature that
shares no blood of mine. Your mannish garb condemns you for all to see.”

Riannon exerted her self-control to the utmost to stop her hand from reaching
for her sword hilt. “You might wear your honour on your skin, your Grace. I do
not.”

Henry’s face purpled and he all but snarled at Riannon.

Joan stepped between them. “Harry. Nonnie. For the love of the gods, stop this.”

Henry visibly reined in his temper. Riannon remained taut and returned his
stare.

“You’ve the right to welcome any to your own hearth,” Henry said to Joan, “but
I’d thank you to keep that
thing
away from me. Or I’ll be forced to end what
our sire began.”

Riannon’s hand dropped to her sword, but she turned and strode to the door.

“Wait!” Henry called. “By the gods, you have a nerve! I’ll have you in chains
and flogged if you do not remove that sword. You might choose to degrade
yourself, but, by Atuan’s fist, I’ll not let you flaunt a false knighthood.”

Riannon’s restraints trembled. She remembered her father’s fury, so like
Henry’s. She remembered his fists. Being whipped and locked in a chamber with
the promise of more punishments to come. Unlike the youngster she had been, she
had years of hard-won experience and adversity to help keep her fear and temper
in check.

“You know not of what you speak, your Grace,” she said.

“By the gods!” Henry jabbed a finger at her. “As the head of this family, I
demand you remove that sword and stop this insult! Or must I take it from you?”

Riannon’s chest tightened in anticipation. Unformed violence bristled in the air
she breathed. Henry’s son Richard and Guy had both risen to their feet.

“Harry!” Joan said.

Humphrey held his wife’s arms to prevent her intervening.

“Only the three and twenty men of the order that conferred this honour upon me
can deny me my right of knighthood.” Riannon slowly reached down to tug her
dagger from her belt. She held it up by the blade between her and Henry so that
he could see the ornate red enamel decoration on the hilt. “You are not one of
them, your Grace.”

Henry glanced at the dagger. Some of his anger bled into disbelief. “Curse it!
Where did you get that?”

“What is it?” Thomas asked.

“A Knight of the Star?” Richard said. “Atuan’s legs!”

Riannon slid her dagger back into its sheath. “I’m not answerable to you as
knight, vassal, servant, nor sister – since you cannot claim back what our
father denied. Good day, your Grace.”

No one tried to prevent Riannon leaving. She resisted the urge to slam the door
behind her.

Riannon strode outside and paused to look for where the grooms waited with hers
and Lady Eleanor’s horses.

“Riannon!”

Riannon turned to see Guy following her.

“As fine a piece of bear-baiting as ever I’ve watched,” he said. “I’ve not seen
brother Henry’s face turn so purple since his swaggering son broke the leg of
his favourite horse.”

“He’d value any horse above me,” she said.

“If it’s any consolation, I probably rank no more than a straw or two above the
stables myself.”

“You seem not to take any of it to heart.”

“I must make myself amiable. I’m the youngest. Guy Lack-land. Dependant on the
charity of my family.” Guy lost his grin. “To give big brother his due, he does
take blood ties and being head of the family seriously. Not even his bitterest
enemy could accuse him of neglect.”

“I’d be satisfied with complete disregard.”

Guy smiled. “It pains me to be the one to have to point this out to you, strange
sister mine, but you’re hardly a person who passes unnoticed through any
chamber.”

Riannon grinned.

Guy put a comradely hand on her shoulder. “A word from one who has spent a
lifetime needing the goodwill of others. I can perfectly comprehend the
temptation to raise Henry’s bristles for the pleasure of seeing him rage and
foam at the mouth, but have a care. Remember that he is the queen’s mailed fist.
He commands her armies.”

“I doubt I’ll ever be called to serve with him.”

Riannon saw John bringing her horse.

“Do you return to the lovely Lady Eleanor’s?” Guy said. “I’ll accompany you.”

He was the last person she wished to see with Eleanor, if he truly intended to
marry her, but Riannon could hardly forbid him the lady’s hospitality.

“I’m not returning directly to her house,” Riannon said. “She is meeting with
the queen this morn.”

“Then why do you not come with me to the tourney field? They have practice
courses. You can let me boast of my sister belonging to the Grand Order of the
Star. And let me take my chance in besting you in riding.”

“Mayhap another time.”

He nodded amiably and clapped her on the back. “Later, then. Oh. There was one
thing I meant to ask you. Were you at Vahl?”

Riannon felt a chill which seemed to snake down the scar across her body. “Why
do you ask?”

“Several times, I’ve had men ask me if I was there during the siege,” Guy said.
“I was not. It has just occurred to me that mayhap people mistook me for
memories of you. It seems likely that you might have deeds I’d be happy to claim
as my own.”

“I wish I could feel certain in returning the compliment.”

Guy threw back his head to laugh. “Not unless you wish a reputation like none
other with the ladies. Drink with me one afternoon, strange sister mine, and we
can swap stories.”

Riannon watched him stride jauntily away. Her youngest brother was a difficult
man to dislike, even if he did plan to marry Eleanor.

Eleanor emerged into the busy bailey and saw Riannon waiting with the horses.
She lifted the hem of her skirts clear of the dung and dust, and crossed to her.
Riannon looked as distracted in unhappy thoughts as Eleanor felt.

“Your audience went well?” Riannon said.

“Possibly for someone,” Eleanor said, “though whom, I’m unsure, save it was not
me.”