Part 13 (1/2)
He waited for her to gather some semblance of order, then asked, ”What does the estimable Sir Walter wish from me?”
”Ah.” She fiddled with the book of accounts to avoid any eye-to-eye contact. ”He suggested that since you have little to occupy your time, you might take over the training of our squires. They respect you a great deal and would receive instruction gratefully.”
Now she waited, and when he didn't reply, she looked up. His mouth had dropped open, and he just stared.
”Will you train the squires?”
”Nay!”
His explosion startled her. She knocked the book off the table again and it landed with a thud.
He didn't care. Pointing his thumb to his chest, he said, ”I'm Sir David of Radcliffe. I'm a legendary knight. I don't train mere squires.”
She pursed her lips. No one challenged her arrogance, for in her prideful heart, she knew she was better than anyone around her. But Sir David didn't think like she did. The greatest warrior England had ever produced shrugged off the wors.h.i.+p lesser men offered. In some ways, he was a humble man, and a humble man didn't refuse to train a pack of wors.h.i.+pping youths who followed his every move with eager gazes and knelt at his feet to hear pearls of wisdom. ”You like to train Eudo.”
”He's just a lad.” Deep in thought, David scratched his stomach. ”He doesn't know much.”
”If they know much, you don't wish to train them?”
”Hugh's a man grown. He's a better fighter than...well.” His braies must have grown looser, for he adjusted himself. ”He'll be a knight, soon.”
”'Twas Hugh's armor I purchased while in Lancaster. I would like to sponsor his knighthood with a whole heart, but...” She dangled the bait, hoping he would take it.
He sneered at her obvious gambit, then he took the bait anyway. ”What's the problem with Hugh?”
”His swordwork is exemplary, he handles every horse in the stable with ease, he is a terror with a lance and mace, but he refuses to work with a knife.”
”Why?”
”He says an honorable knight has no reason to fight with a knife.”
”I suppose you'd want me to teach Andrew and Jennings, too.”
”I had hoped-”
”What's Sir Walter going to do while I take over all his duties?”
Her voice sharpened at his petulance. ”I had hoped he would a.s.sist you.”
”What makes you think he'll settle for a.s.sisting me?”
”It was his idea.”
That drew him up short. Slowly, he drew the word out. ”Why?”
”He said you had not exercised your skills since you arrived, and thought perhaps it would be a pleasant way to practice while performing an added duty.”
David snorted, and for the first time she wondered at Sir Walter's sudden spirit of cooperation. She had thought he simply detested David's inactivity and sought to remedy it. Did he have another motive? And what was it? She didn't like dancing to Sir Walter's tune all unknowing. ”Perhaps this is not such a good idea.”
David pinched the bridge of his nose. ”Why not? At least you'll get something for your money. That's the idea, isn't it?”
Grateful for his surliness, she forgot the warm, soft sensation he'd given her and remembered only her earlier resentment of him. Of the luxurious life he'd lived at her expense, and how every one of her people worked for less than Sir David. It made her remember, too, that earlier he had seemed to resent his inactivity, and she again confronted the puzzle of a man. ”It would give me much pleasure if you would at least-” The leather bag wiggled and released a definite ”meow.” She snapped, ”What is in that bag?”
”That? Oh.” She could read the fury in him, but he subdued it to loosen the strings and lay the bag open.
A blinking black kitten lifted its head and looked around.
Alisoun jumped back.
”It's only a kitten,” he said.
”I can see that,” she answered irritably.
”You're acting as if it were a wolf, prepared to eat you.” Gathering up the tiny creature, he scratched it under the chin, then waved it in her face. ”Isn't it cute?”
She flinched. ”What are you doing with it?”
”Giving it to you. Eudo said your cat had been killed, and-”
”Oh, nay.” She waved her hands. ”I don't want another cat.”
Placing the creature on the tabletop, he said, ”I thought you liked cats.”
”I do.” She watched as the little thing scampered over to the edge and looked down. ”In their proper place.”
”In the stable?”
Sure that it would break something if it tried to jump, she nudged it back. ”Aye.”
”I barely rescued it from under Louis's hooves.”
The kitten tried again to look over the edge, and again she pushed it away. ”I can see why.”
”Why I rescued it? Aye, it's a darling thing.”
”Nay, why it was under Louis's hooves. It's stupid.”
He sighed. ”If you don't want it, you can just put it down on the floor. It'll probably survive among the dogs and the other cats, and its life will still be better than it would be in the stable.”
She stared as the kitten sauntered toward one of the lit candles, then realized that David, too, sauntered-but he was heading out the door. ”Wait! You take it.” Then, belatedly, ”Where are you going?”
”To train your squires.” He stuck his head back in. ”May I depend on your messenger to again take the gold to Radcliffe?”
”In sooth, but the cat-”
”Bless you, my lady.” He disappeared, and both the gold and the kitten remained on the table.