Part 36 (1/2)

”When she knelt down and talked before she left?”

”We talked about the kitty's name,” Bert answered. ”She wanted it to have a name so I could tell her about it in the letters we will write.” Picking up the kitten, she rubbed it against her cheek and it purred so loud in that empty room I could hear it. ”She liked the name I picked.”

Sir David seemed incapable of speech, so I asked, ”What did you name it?”

”It's black with white, so I named it Clover after one of the cows.” Bert beamed at me through her tangled hair. ”Can you remember that?”

”She named the cat.” Sir David rubbed both his temples with his hands, then lifted himself with a roar. ”I need ale. Where's the ale?”

I ran to get it for him, and that was the last coherent sentence we heard from him for the next drought-stricken eight days.

I was glad I stayed for Bert.

Sir David of Radcliffe opened his eyes and stared. This time he knew where he was. Those large, horizontal, treelike objects would soon resolve themselves into the reeds on the floor of his great hall. The fond kisses pressed on his ear were the gifts of his best hunting dog, and the panting that surrounded him was only the pack gathered around him for warmth. He'd woken too many times to the same scene and the same sounds to be mystified by them now.

Groaning, he tried to raise himself off the floor while holding his head in his hands. It didn't work. Either he could push himself erect or he could hold his head, but he couldn't do both. And he really needed to sit up, because he was going to puke. ”Eudo,” he moaned. ”Guy.”

No one answered. Probably they were too disgusted with him to stay in the same room. And why not? He could scarcely stay with himself.

”Bert?”

She was gone, too. Praise G.o.d for Eudo. Sir David didn't remember much, but he knew that Eudo had kept Bert entertained while her father tried to find peace in the bottom of a jug of ale.

Too bad every time he looked into a mug, Alisoun's face floated there, staring at him.

Of course, it was worse when he closed his eyes. Then he saw poor, pathetic Philippa leaving, the prisoner of her own husband.

Was she still alive?

”Nay!” He flung up his hands to block the thought, and the motion brought up his dinner. Rolling away, he waited until the chamber stopped spinning. He held onto the bench, pulled himself up, and staggered to the door. Flinging it open, he stepped outside and lurched, blinded by the light. The sun hadn't been so bright and hot since last summer, and it was all the sun's fault when he missed the first step, caught himself, missed again, and tumbled down the stairs. As he lay in the dry dust at the bottom, he realized that if he hadn't been so drunk, he would have killed himself.

He wanted to see Bert, explain himself to Guy, and make himself a hero in Eudo's eyes once more. And in his own eyes, too. It seemed that mattered the most.

Listening, he heard voices, and he hoisted himself to his feet once more and started toward the training yard. He rounded the corner and saw Eudo with his arms around Bert, showing her how to shoot a bow. The sight brought David to a skidding halt.

”Sir David!” Eudo jumped away from Bert guiltily. ”I was just showing her...”

Bert stared at Eudo as if he had gone mad, and David realized that while the lad found comfort in holding Bert, Bert thought his embrace nothing but kindness. David said, ”Fine. My thanks. You've kept her entertained and done her no harm. I won't forget.” Sitting down on a stump, he waved them on. ”Go ahead. Let me see what she's learned.”

As Eudo helped Bert place her arrow into the bowstring, David remembered that he'd held Alisoun just the same way, demonstrating how to shoot an arrow while absorbing her vitality. Now that vitality had disappeared from his life, and he had no one to blame but himself.

If it had been up to Osbern, he'd never have known what he missed. That worthless poltroon had tried to kill Alisoun before David had even met her. He'd tormented her, beaten Sir Walter, frightened her people, and David had done nothing to avenge her. David could think of little else.

It had taken eight days of trying to justify himself to himself, but now he knew. Alisoun had done what was right, and not what was proper. He had done what was proper, and not what was right. He had sent Philippa back to her husband and possibly to her death, because he was a coward, looking out for himself, fearing the king's wrath, trying to hang on to his possessions at the cost of his confidence.

He had a lesson to teach Osbern. He'd already learned his own.

”Did you see, Daddy? Did you see?” Bert stuck her face into his and pointed at the target. ”I got close!”

”You did!” The arrow quivered in the fence behind the target, and David puffed with pride. ”You're Daddy's brave girl, and I'm glad, because I've got something to tell you. Something to tell everyone at Radcliffe.” He waved Eudo over. ”You, too, but where's Guy?”

The children glanced at each other. ”Guy?” Eudo's gaze slid away. ”Why, I believe he had to ride...somewhere.”

”Somewhere?”

”Somewhere...else.”

David didn't need to seek any more explanation. Guy had left Radcliffe.

”Very well,” he said. ”Guy is gone, and I'm going, too.”

”You're going?” Bert, his indomitable Bert, started to cry.

Pulling her onto his lap, David said, ”I haven't really been here since Alisoun left, anyway.”

”I know, but everyone keeps leaving.” Bert put her head on his shoulder and bawled.

David hadn't known he could feel any worse, but he did now. He petted his daughter and wondered if Eudo would start crying soon. The squire seemed to be struggling with his emotions also, and David found himself explaining his actions to a lad and a la.s.s. ”I made a mistake. Now I'm going to go and fix it.”

Bert stopped sobbing and started listening. Eudo tilted his head and narrowed his eyes.

”I'm going to go get Philippa back from her husband. The only way to do that, I imagine, is to-” he shuddered as he remembered the result of his last challenge, ”-kill him.”

He had the complete attention of both children now.

”There's a good chance I'll die in the attempt.” He waited to hear Bert's yell, but she remained mute and he thought perhaps she didn't understand.

Eudo stammered with excitement. ”I'll prepare and go with you.”

”Go with me?”

”I am your squire.”

”Don't you understand? I said I might be...” He noticed the eager, quivering tension of the lad, and he hadn't the heart to finish the sentence. ”You are my squire, and I regret leaving you here, but I depend on you for something much more important than pa.s.sing me my weapons.”

Eudo withered, and David could see his thoughts. His first chance to partic.i.p.ate in combat, and David denied him. ”What do you require of me, Sir David?”

”It is a mighty quest which I lay on you, and I pray you are worthy of my trust.”

”I'm worthy!”

Speaking slowly and clearly, David said, ”Should I not return, I rely on you to take my beloved daughter to George's Cross, to Lady Alisoun.”

Eudo's sideways glance at Bert told the tale. He wanted to fight in battle, not babysit a la.s.s.

Taking his shoulder, David leaned close to Eudo's face and tried to impress him with the importance of this responsibility. ”You remember the journey here, Eudo. It was dark and fraught with danger. There were wolves, and two children alone will attract thieves.”

Now Eudo understood. He blanched at the mention of wolves and his hand went to his knife.

”But Guy is gone and I fear that, should Osbern kill me, he'll send men to take Bert-” David hugged her closer, ”-and you can't allow that.”