The Lioness and Her Knight (10 page)

"Luneta! You don't mean that you think ... but I can't defend the stone!"

"Not if you won't learn how to hold a sword. Now, are you right- or left-handed?"

"No! I'll send one of the soldiers out if something happens."

Luneta shook her head sadly. "If that were possible, don't you think that Sir Esclados would have done it? No, it's got to be you."

"It can't be!"

"But it is. There's no point in arguing about it. You may not know this, but my father is also the king's sheriff in Orkney, and so I know something about the law. If there's no heir, then the rights and duties—this is what you would call a duty—pass to the widow."

Laudine began to cry, but Luneta set her jaw against her welling sympathy and said, "Come on, Laudine. Maybe it won't be so bad. For all you know, the next knight who comes along may be a bad swordsman."

"It's impossible! I can't do it!"

Luneta sighed. "It seems as if everything is impossible to you. Just yesterday you told me it was impossible for you to marry again." She broke off and added thoughtfully, "Of course, if you did that, we could avoid all this, couldn't we? Oh, well, never mind. Perhaps it's too soon to begin with the sword. I'll put it away for now. We'll start sparring tomorrow."

Luneta left, well satisfied with the morning's work. She took care to stay out of Laudine's room for the rest of the day, leaving her to her own reflections, and the next morning when she went back she found her hostess looking very hollow-eyed and sober. "Why, good morning, Laudine! My goodness, you don't look at all comfortable! Are you ill?"

Laudine looked up quickly at Luneta's voice. "Oh, Luneta! Where have you been? I've so needed to talk with you."

"Shall I fetch a doctor?"

"No, no, I'm not ill. I just haven't slept all night," Laudine said. "I've been thinking about what you said."

"Then you're ready to begin studying the broadsword?"

"No, not that," Laudine said hurriedly. "I was thinking about what you said ... about my marrying again."

"But you said that was impossible."

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. Is it really impossible?"

"I shouldn't think so, but you seemed so certain."

"Oh, I can't believe I'm thinking these thoughts!" Laudine wailed. "My husband is barely a week in his grave!"

"You're afraid of what people will think?" Luneta asked. Laudine looked down but nodded. "But that needn't be! I'm sure that everyone who lives near the castle knows how things stand with that Storm Stone. They will know that you're marrying in order to protect them. I would imagine that they'll all cheer when they hear you're engaged."

"Won't they ... wouldn't they think me fickle?"

"What, after seeing you at the funeral? Don't be silly. No one will think that your feelings are shallow after that! Everyone knows how much you loved Sir Esclados."

"But then what will they think?"

"What should they think but the truth? That you've made a marriage of convenience, out of duty to your people. Who will think ill of you for that? It's really quite a common arrangement, you know. Why, I've known such cases myself."

Laudine blushed self-consciously, and Luneta knew then that Laudine had never held any real affection for Sir Esclados. All that talk about love at first sight and all her ghastly excess at the funeral had been for form's sake. She had been behaving as she thought she was supposed to behave—or, rather, as the French minstrels who sang syrupy love songs thought she was supposed to behave. Luneta said, with an air of decision, "No, I don't think you need concern yourself with what others will think. Provided you marry someone who is able to protect the land against the storms, you'll probably be regarded as a public benefactor."

"But that's the thing," Laudine said immediately. "Wherever will I find someone like that, cloistered away in this castle as I am?"

"Hmm. It's a puzzle, isn't it?" Luneta said pensively. "I don't suppose you'd be interested in marrying one of your own soldiers, would you? There's one very powerful-looking sergeant who seems as if he'd be a fierce fighter. Maybe you know the one I mean. I don't know his name, exactly, but his soldiers call him the 'Ape of Araby.'"

"The what?"

"The 'Ape of Araby.' He seems most formidable to me."

"Why do they call him that?"

"I'm sure I don't know why soldiers give their little names for each other," Luneta said primly. "And besides, I imagine that once he's married he'll shave more often. And bathe sometimes."

"No!"

"No, perhaps you're right. How about the Captain of the Guard—Regivald or something like that. He's not half so niffy as the Ape of Araby, and in his day he was probably quite as good with his weapons. I wonder, Laudine, do you insist on your future husband having all his teeth?"

"Teeth?"

"Never mind. As lord of the castle, he can have someone make him some new ones. Perhaps even dye his hair. Without all that gray, he'll look decades younger!"

"Decades? How old is this fellow?"

"Oh, I couldn't say for certain. He's very well preserved, and besides, there are advantages to marrying an experienced man. They know so many interesting stories about how things were in our grandfathers' days—"

"Stop! I won't hear any more!"

"Well, there's always Malvolus..."

"No!" Laudine shrieked.

"No, you're right. None of these men will do the trick, will they? What we need is a knight, and not just any knight, either. I'll have to think about this some more."

With an air of deep concentration, Luneta turned and left the room, closing the door behind her. When it was latched, she allowed herself a smile.

"I've clearly underestimated you," came Rhience's voice from the shadows by the door.

"Oh, were you listening in? Not very chivalrous of you."

"I refuse to acknowledge a rebuke from someone who's manipulating her friend into a marriage."

Luneta lifted her chin high. "And are you absolutely certain that Ywain and Laudine are ill suited for each other?" Rhience didn't reply. "Tell me so, and I'll stop."

"No, on the surface it seems as if they were made for each other," Rhience admitted. "All I'm saying is that if they get together, they should do it without your help."

Luneta smiled triumphantly and, ignoring this last comment, returned to her room. All was going according to plan.

Laudine looked even more miserable the following morning, and Luneta was more glad than ever that she was doing what she could to help Laudine. When Luneta entered, Laudine looked up with a faint gleam of hope in her eyes. "Have you thought of anything yet?"

Luneta shook her head dejectedly. "I'm afraid not. You see, there are few knights in England who are even close to Sir Esclados in strength and skill, and none of them are available. My uncle Sir Gawain is not interested in marrying, and he's far too old for you anyway. You want a young and handsome knight. Then there's Sir Lancelot, but he doesn't seem interested in romance either, from what I've heard. He lived alone as a hermit for years, you know. He can't be that interested in women. There just aren't many who are as great as Sir Esclados." Luneta smiled wryly, then shrugged and added, "And if it were possible, we would want someone who was actually a
better
knight than Sir Esclados. After all, Sir Esclados was defeated, wasn't he?"

"But are there any such knights?" Laudine asked despairingly.

Luneta assumed an awestruck expression. "Well, there's one." Then she shook her head sharply and said, "No, no. Forget I said anything. That's impossible!"

"What's impossible?"

"I'm sorry, my lady. I should have remained silent."

"Why? What are you thinking? Tell me! I beg you!"

Luneta sighed. "There is one knight who I know is a greater warrior than Sir Esclados, but it's hopeless. You would never marry him."

"Why not?" Laudine demanded. Then she sat up straight. "Does he have all his teeth?"

"Oh, yes, very toothsome indeed. But my lady, don't tease yourself about this knight."

"No one calls him Ape Boy or anything?"

"Not that I'm aware of," Luneta said cautiously. "He's really quite good-looking, I suppose."

"How old is he? Not a friend of your grandfather's or anything, is he?"

Luneta grinned at this, but only said, "I would think that he's about your own age, my lady."

"So young? Then how could you possibly think that he's a stronger knight than Sir Esclados?"

Luneta smiled hesitantly, watching Laudine. "Because you see, my lady, he was the one who defeated Sir Esclados."

Laudine's face grew still and pale.

"But you mustn't think ill of him, my lady," Luneta said hurriedly. "What was he to do when Sir Esclados attacked him? On his honor, he could do nothing but stand and fight!"

Laudine stared for a moment at the floor, then lifted expressionless eyes to Luneta. "You know this knight?"

Luneta nodded.

"Is he a good man?"

"I believe so, my lady."

"And can you produce him? Where is he?"

"He's ... been in hiding, my lady, not wanting to slay any more of your men."

"Where is he?"

"I don't know, exactly, at least not now, but—"

"I am here, my lady," said Ywain's voice, and then he appeared from the air just behind the chair where Laudine sat. She whirled around, but Ywain was already walking in front of her and kneeling at her feet. "My lady, I beg your forgiveness for causing you such grief. Had I seen you before I fought your husband, I would have permitted him to kill me rather than cause you one second of the pain that you have felt."

"But where have you...?" Laudine began, but then she looked into Ywain's face, and the words died on her lips. Her eyes widened, her lips parted, and her cheeks began to glow.

"I do not know if you can ever forgive me or give me the joy of calling you my own, but whether you do this or not, I must have you know this: I have loved you since the moment I saw you. I love you more now than I did then. I will serve you, honor you, and protect you if you will do me the honor, grant me the joy, of possessing this hand and this heart." Ywain raised Laudine's hand to his lips and kissed it fervently.

Luneta nodded appreciatively. A very pretty speech. Perhaps a little flowery for her own taste, but she could tell that Laudine saw no fault in it.

"My love, my heart, my life, may I call you my own?"

Laudine didn't hesitate. Clearly all her qualms about what others would think had been forgotten. "Yes. Yes. Though I do not even know your name or station. I will marry you though you were the son of a goatherd."

Ywain laughed softly. "I am sorry to disappoint you, but I'm afraid that I'm rather the son of a king. I am Ywain, son of Ywain, grandson of Uriens, King of Scotland."

Laudine's eyes grew round, and for a moment Luneta thought she was actually going to faint, but just at that moment the sky grew dark and a great crash of thunder shook the castle.

"The Storm Stone!" shrieked Laudine.

Ywain didn't hesitate. Pausing only long enough to place a firm hand on Laudine's shoulder and say, "Don't worry, my heart. I'll take care of it," he strode from the room. Another crash of thunder came, followed by the sound of glass breaking down the corridor, and Laudine began to tremble and whimper. She reminded Luneta of a dog she'd once had who had always crawled under a bed during storms, but Luneta decided to keep this reflection to herself and instead held Laudine's hand in what she hoped was a reassuring manner.

As before, the storm ended in a few minutes, and Laudine recovered her composure, for a moment, at least. She took a deep breath, let it out in a sigh, then—to Luneta's surprise—began to cry again.

"What's wrong now, my lady?"

"I'm afraid something will happen to my beloved, Y—...What was his name again?"

"Ywain. Nothing will happen to him. Remember that he's already proven himself once."

At that moment the door burst open, and into the sitting room came one of the most ridiculous sights Luneta had ever seen. It was the steward, Malvolus, dressed in an odd assortment of various pieces of armor. "I have come, my lady!" he announced grandly.

"Come? Whatever for?" Laudine asked.

"The Storm Stone, my lady!" he declared. "Do you not remember the charge that lies on this castle?"

Rhience slipped into the room behind Malvolus, grinning with delight, and Luneta had to look away from him to keep her own expression under control.

"What do you mean?"

"When the storm breaks over the land, one from this castle must defend it!"

"Oh!" Laudine said, with a sudden understanding. "And you're offering to fight?"

"It is the least I can do for you, my dear mistress," the steward replied, executing a very correct, though mechanical, bow. "You must be protected."

"That's so kind of you!" Laudine said, evidently moved. "I had no idea you were that loyal to me!" She hesitated, then added, "But why ... forgive me, why does your armor not fit?"

Malvolus flushed angrily and didn't answer, but Rhience explained for him. "Because he's such a spider shanks, of course. None of the armor in the castle will fit such a paltry fellow as our Malvolus."

The steward's eyes blazed with fury, but he didn't respond to the fool's remarks. "I shall have armor made for myself later, in the correct size," he said austerely.

"Why would a steward need armor?" Laudine asked, confused.

Malvolus's face grew even more rigidly furious, and he replied in a controlled tone, as if explaining something to an idiot. "To defend the castle after the storms, of course."

"Oh, but that's not necessary!" Laudine said.

"It is the law, the custom, and the enchantment of this castle! We are bound to do so for our very lives by the magic of the stone!"

"Yes, yes, I know that," Laudine said quickly. "I didn't mean that it didn't have to be done. I only mean that I've already sent a knight to do so."

"What?" Malvolus's face grew pale.

"I do believe our steward's going to faint," Rhience said dispassionately. "Good thing he's in armor. Maybe he won't hurt himself too badly when he falls."