Part 31 (2/2)
Never taking their gazes from the sword, the children moved away.
”Aye.”
”I'm letting go now.” He loosened his grip, and when she didn't immediately drop it, he stepped away.
She continued to move it, staring at the tip in amazement.
Then Bert said, ”Lift it over your head.”
David yelled, ”Nay!”
He was too late. Alisoun brought the blade up. It hesitated just over her head, then tilted backward. She didn't have the strength to control it, but she didn't drop it. Instead she followed it as it tilted farther and farther, and at last she toppled backward.
She hit the ground as hard as one of her arrows.
David reached her side even as dust ruffled up. ”Alisoun? Alisoun!”
She blinked her eyes open.
”Are you hurt?”
”It didn't feel good.”
He slid his arm around her and helped her slowly sit up. Her wimple slid off the back of her head. She grabbed at it, but her braids dangled free and she grimaced. ”Do you think-” David glanced at the children and lowered his voice, ”-the babe is injured?”
”I think the babe is better cus.h.i.+oned than I am.” She answered as quietly, then rubbed at her tailbone.
A small voice broke into their conversation. ”I'm sorry.”
David didn't turn his head, but Alisoun did.
”Daddy, I'm really, really sorry. I didn't know she'd hit so hard.”
For the first time ever, David found himself thoroughly angry at his daughter. He could scarcely maintain a civil tone when he said, ”Don't ask my forgiveness, Bert. Ask your stepmother's. She's the one who suffered.”
”I beg your pardon, my lady.” Bert fought tears now. ”I didn't mean for you to get hurt.”
”I am only bruised, Bertrade, and of course I forgive you.” She reached over David's shoulder and patted the girl's head, and this time she did it comfortably. ”After all, it's mostly your daddy's fault.”
”My fault?” David reared back. ”Why my fault?”
”Isn't that jest one you play on all your squires?”
Trying to be righteous, David proclaimed, ”It gives them an idea of the work they need to do before they can be dubbed a knight.”
”I think it's mean.”
David found himself wanting to squirm.
”So why wouldn't your daughter want me to supply the same entertainment the other squires have provided?” She shook her head reprovingly. ”I'm afraid you're going to have to take credit for this, David. Now help me up and we'll go to work.”
When had he become the one who needed to be taught? Trying to regain control of the practice, David said, ”We'll do the knifework now.” Bert began to protest, but he stared at her until she shut her mouth, and he added, ”'Twill be your most likely source of defense anyway, my lady.”
Eudo put away the swords while Bert removed the wooden knives and put them on the table, never touching or asking to touch the real blades with their sharp edges. The children both showed off their best behavior, realizing, no doubt, that David had quickly reached his limit.
Too quickly, he admitted ruefully. If he had been sleeping regularly in Alisoun's bed, he might have felt secure enough to listen to Alisoun's reproval without becoming defensive.
Bert tugged at the hem of his gown. ”I'll use the wooden blade, Daddy.”
”Good.” David nodded.
Eudo's hand hovered over the hilts. ”Which blade would you like Lady Alisoun to use, my lord?”
”The light one,” David answered.
Eudo handed it to Alisoun hilt first, and she accepted it with a gracious smile. ”You have been good to allow me to interrupt your true instruction.”
Bert wiggled in between them. ”It's my true instruction, too.”
Eudo rolled his eyes.
Without even seeing him, Bert said, ”Well, it is!”
”It's harder than I expected.” Alisoun cradled the knife between her two palms. ”You must be very proud of your skills.”
Inveterately honest, Bert was forced to admit, ”I'm not good yet, but I'm a lot better than I used to be. You'll see. You'll get better, too.”
Something loosened in David. The training session might have gone poorly, but his intuition had been correct. Bert was talking to Alisoun now. She saw her as someone who had to learn, to grow, someone whose apparent perfection had been hard won, and who was willing to study under those who knew more than she-possibly even from Bert.
David tugged on one of Alisoun's loose braids until she turned and looked at him. ”Bert is one of my best pupils, and with Eudo's ingenuity he'll be the new legendary mercenary of England.”
Eudo flushed and Bert grinned, and Alisoun swung the knife enthusiastically. ”Long live Bert and Eudo!”
Suddenly the end of the braid was dangling from David's hand.
He stared at it. He stared at her braid, shorter by five inches. He stared at an open-mouthed Bert, at round-eyed Eudo, and finally at Alisoun. Alisoun, too stunned to speak or move.
The moment seemed frozen in time.
Then a tiny sound broke their paralysis.
Alisoun choked.
”Don't cry,” David begged, removing the dagger from her hand.
She choked again.
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