Part 21 (1/2)

”If you hurt,” Dain said, ”I will fetch the physician to you.”

”Don't want him,” Lord Odfrey said. ”Want my breakfast. Want to sit up. Roye!

d.a.m.ne, where are you?”

”Here, my lord,” Sir Roye said hastily, scrambling to his side. The protector scrubbed at his face with his hands, grinning at his master with a delight that transformed his craggy face. ”You're awake. Praise Thod!” ”I hurt and I'm hungry,” Lord Odfrey said, pounding the bed weakly with one hand. ”Why is it so dark in here? Why has the fire burned out? What stinks? Dain!”

”Yes, lord?”

The chevard stared up at him with sudden horror. ”Tell me the truth. Is my face infected with the rot?”

”Not yet,” Dain replied. ”The stink comes from Sulein's poultice. It needs to come off.”

”And what do you know about healing and such arts?” Sir Roye asked him fiercely from the opposite side of the bed.

Dain glared right back. ”My sister knew healing. She said a wound should be kept clean and exposed to light and fresh air.”

”Hah!” Sir Roye said in derision. ”You'd kill him certain, with measures like that.” Lord Odfrey reached up and began tugging at his bandages. ”Off with it.” ”My lord,” Sir Roye said, trying to hold down his hands. ”Wait for Sulein to do that. You'll hurt yourself, sure.”

”Ow!” Lord Odfrey shouted. Cursing, he finished pulling the bandage away and flung it on the floor.

Then Sulein arrived, gliding forward hastily with his robe unfastened and his conical hat on crooked.

”What is this? What is this?” he asked, clapping his hands together.

”Wash this d.a.m.ned stink off me,” Lord Odfrey ordered. The commotion began. A page stuck his head inside the room, staring around with his eyes popping. ”He's better! He's alive! Praise Thod!” The guards looked in while the page went das.h.i.+ng away, shouting down the corridor. Sulein bustled to fill a basin with water and started cleaning the wound. Servants, gawking at their master, came in to build up new fires and light fresh candles. Sulein ordered the window shut, but Lord Odfrey ordered it opened again. All the windows were opened, transforming the chamber with sunlight and fresh air.

From outside, the chapel bell began to ring in celebration, sending up ripples of music such as Dain had never heard.

He retreated from the general confusion, taking refuge in a corner, until Sir Roye noticed him and booted him out. But Lord Odfrey ordered him brought back in.

”I want him near me,” the chevard said. ”Make a place for him. He is welcome at Thirst, as long as he will stay.”

Sir Roye bowed, but he shot a quick, scornful look in Dain's direction. ”And what place will he have, my lord? Stable work? Field work?” ”Nonsense.” Looking suddenly white and exhausted, Lord Odfrey sank back upon his pillows. ”Put him among the fosters. Give him training at arms.” The servants froze in mid-task. Sulein jostled his basin of water. Sir Roye's eyes widened in shock.

”He's pagan, m'lord! It's against-”

”Look at his black hair. Look at his size. He's just starting to grow, d.a.m.ne,” Lord Odfrey said. ”There's human blood in him too. Under the old law, he can be trained.”

Sir Roye opened his mouth, but the captain of the guards came rus.h.i.+ng in, his surcoat flapping about his knees, his chain mail creaking. Halting, he threw a salute.

”My lord!” he said briskly.

Sulein straightened. ”There are too many people in this room,” he said in a loud voice that drove out the servants. ”The chevard will live, but he must have rest.”

Lord Odfrey ignored everyone but his protector. They stared at each other, their strong wills clas.h.i.+ng visibly. Dain looked on, holding his breath in amazement. Training? To be a warrior? To perhaps be a knight someday? To have rank and skills and training, to know adventure and battle? His heart started thumping hard, and he could not breathe for excitement.

”Put him in training,” Lord Odfrey said.

”M'lord, I would do your will as always,” Sir Roye said with a grimace, ”but think of what this means.

Remember who is fostered here.” ”These matters can be settled at another time,” Sulein said, trying tointerrupt them. He gestured for Sir Roye to withdraw, but the knight protector did not budge from Lord Odfrey's bedside.

”The prince, m'lord,” Sir Roye said.

Dain opened his mouth, wanting to offer a dozen a.s.surances. Wanting to plead. Wanting to say anything that would prevail. But he held himself silent, sensing that at this moment he should not interfere.

”The prince does not choose my fosters,” Lord Odfrey said, his voice starting to fail him. He shut his eyes a moment, then fought to reopen them. ”I rule this hold by royal warrant. Dain will be fostered here, with full rights as such.”

”But he has no sponsor, no one to provide for him. He can't-”

”d.a.m.ne, Sir Roye, do not argue with me!” As he spoke, Lord Odfrey grimaced in agony and fell back against his pillows again, gasping for breath. ”Now this is enough,” Sulein said, pulling the coverlet up across the invalid and placing his hand firmly on the chevard's sweating brow. ”You will bring back your fever if you do not rest. Sir Roye, why do you argue with your master's orders? Why do you risk his life by making him so upset?” Sir Roye looked stricken. He bowed low. ”Your pardon, m'lord. I did not mean to-” ”You always have the best interests of the hold at heart,” Lord Odfrey said in a thin, tired voice. He tried to smile, but that caused him more pain. ”I know this. Thod brought him to me. Let him stay, if he will.” Sir Roye nodded, but he glanced at Dain without acceptance. ”Boy, do you have any idea of what training means?”

”Yes,” Dain said, his eagerness spilling forth. ”To learn arms and-” ”Will you stay, unsponsored, and take the training freehold?”

Dain frowned slightly, unsure of what these terms meant exactly. ”If it means I can eat food and not be beaten and learn-”

”If I may speak,” Sir Bosquecel said.

Sir Roye turned on him fiercely. ”You may not!”

”Sir Roye,” Lord Odfrey said in rebuke.

The protector's mouth snapped shut. He glared at the captain, who met his gaze without flinching.

”Speak,” Lord Odfrey said wearily.

”If it please you, my lord, I will sponsor the boy.”

Sir Roye snorted. ”Are you adopting him, Bosquecel?” ”The men will see that he has what he needs in equipment and all else,” Sir Bosquecel said.

Dain stared, unable to believe his ears.

Sir Bosquecel smiled at Lord Odfrey. ”We would have him as our mascot, my lord.” Sir Roye looked at the captain as though he were a fool, but Lord Odfrey smiled back. ”These details will be worked out later,” he said, and thrust away the cup Sulein was trying to press to his lips. ”No, I do not want thatabomination!” he said fiercely. ”I want breakfast.”

Sulein closed in on him again, and Sir Roye came around the bed to gesture at Dain, who followed him over to the captain of the guard. ”You heard the chevard,” Sir Roye said gruffly. He shoved Dain at Sir Bosquecel.

”He's yours, man. Get him started.”

”Yes, sir.”

The captain saluted and wheeled around smartly. Dain followed at his heels, but Sir Roye gripped his arm to delay him a moment.

”Heed this,” he said in Dain's ear. ”The chevard has given you the chance of a lifetime, far more than the likes of you deserves. Don't you let him down, or it's me you'll answer to.”

Dain met his fierce eyes, and knew the threat was no idle one. ”I understand,” he said quietly with equal determination, and hurried out.