The Lioness and Her Knight (8 page)

With Luneta at one hand and Rhience at the other, Lady Laudine slowly rose from her chair and took a step toward the door. Then she stopped. Luneta held her breath, but then one of the footmen, a thick middle-aged man that Luneta had seen at dinner, stepped between Lady Laudine and the body and said, "I am sure that they are right, my lady. You may trust us to care for your lord, and if we need you, you may be sure that we will call."

Lady Laudine nodded. "Thank you, Rufus. I will leave you now."

Luneta looked over her shoulder at the servant, Rufus, and they mouthed "Thank you" to each other at the same moment. Then she and Rhience had Lady Laudine out of the room and into the fresh air of the courtyard.

For nearly three hours Luneta and Rhience followed the restless Lady Laudine, who seemed, once she had been dislodged from the chair beside her husband, to be unable to stop anywhere for longer than a few minutes. She wept at the least provocation, and since every chair that her husband had ever sat in seemed to qualify as provocation, she cried nearly without stopping. At last, she appeared to have exhausted both her strength and her supply of tears, and the two were able to conduct her to her own room. Rhience waited in the hall while Luneta took Lady Laudine in and bundled her, fully clothed, under the covers of her bed. Luneta couldn't help wondering if Ywain was still in the room, but she obviously couldn't call to him.

Lady Laudine was asleep in seconds. Luneta stood and watched for a moment, then whispered, "Ywain? Come out into the hall. We'll get you out of here."

But no one came. She and Rhience stood in the corridor for an hour, waiting for Ywain to appear and talking in low tones about ways to smuggle him out of the castle, but until he showed up nothing could happen. At last, after midnight, Luneta could not hold her eyes open any longer and went to bed.

When she awoke, Ywain was at the foot of her bed. "Oh, there you are," Luneta said. "Thank heavens. We've got to get you out of the castle."

Ywain ignored her. His eyes held a distant, dreamy look—even worse than when he had been lost in visions of knightly glory. "I've seen an angel," he said.

"An angel?"

"The most perfect creature in all the world! Pray, who is she?"

"An angel?" Luneta repeated.

"The woman you led to the bedchamber last night! Who is she?"

Luneta swallowed and asked warily, "Why do you want to know?"

Ywain sighed. "I love her," he said.

Luneta sat up, rubbed her eyes with her hands, and said, "I beg your pardon?"

"I'm in love," Ywain said. "As soon as I saw her, I knew. At first I thought I was dreaming, because so much beauty could hardly be real, but then I heard her crying, and I knew that all my dreams had come true. Pray, why was she crying?"

Luneta stared at him, then answered slowly, "That would be because her husband just died."

"The poor thing!" Ywain said. Then he brightened. "Then ... she's not married?"

"Not currently, no," Luneta said dryly.

Ywain closed his eyes rapturously. "I stood by her bed for hours, watching her sleep, longing to take her in my arms."

"You didn't, did you?" Luneta demanded quickly. She was suddenly glad that she hadn't bothered removing Lady Laudine's dress before putting her in bed.

"No," Ywain replied. "I may have been lost in a dream, but I had enough of my wits to realize that it might be uncomfortable for her to wake up in the arms of an invisible man."

"Good thinking," Luneta replied.

"So her husband died," Ywain said tenderly. "From her tears, I see that she loved her husband very much."

Luneta didn't answer. She was still wondering about that herself.

"How did he die?" Ywain asked.

For someone who wasn't at all stupid, Ywain could say some very dense things. Luneta took a breath, then said bluntly, "You killed him."

Ywain's eyes grew still, and Luneta watched as comprehension, then despair, flickered across his countenance. "Of course," he said. "That was your Lady Laudine."

Luneta rose from her bed, pulling a gown over her underdress and averting her eyes from her cousin to give him a moment to compose himself. "I'm sorry," she said at last, "but, as you see, you've fallen in love with the one woman who can never love you back."

"It doesn't change anything," Ywain said. "I still love her and always will."

"Ywain—"

"But why shouldn't she love me one day?" he demanded suddenly. "I didn't do anything dishonorable. Her husband attacked me, and I fought back."

Luneta decided not to point out that he had incited the attack to start with. Neither was it the time to suggest that it didn't matter a great deal to Lady Laudine whether Ywain had killed Sir Esclados honorably or dishonorably. Arguing would accomplish nothing, and her mind was bent on a different task: persuading Ywain to leave the castle.

"Perhaps you're right," Luneta said. "In time, once she is over the shock and grief, she may be interested in marrying again. What you should do is leave now, and wait for her to finish her bereavement. Then you could come back, you know, to visit me, your cousin, and I could introduce you. How does that sound?"

"I can't leave the woman I love while she's in such distress."

"Distress that you caused, Ywain!"

"All the more reason that I should stay."

"And do what? Look, Ywain, your hands are tied. If you show yourself, you'll be killed by the guards, and if you stay invisible, you can't do anything for her. As you yourself said, she might not find an invisible knight comforting. In fact," Luneta added, with a flash of inspiration, "if you touch her or make any sound or do anything at all while you're invisible, she'll probably think it's her husband's ghost, which might drive her completely mad. You don't want that, do you?"

Ywain pursed his lips thoughtfully.

"So you see: the only thing for you to do is to go away for a while. You can come back later, when she will be more willing to receive visitors. And besides, once you're away, you might decide that you don't love her as much as you thought."

Luneta knew this last statement was a mistake as soon as she said it. Ywain's face tightened, then set in a mulish expression, then disappeared along with the rest of him as he put Lady Laudine's ring back on. From the empty space, his voice said firmly, "I will not change, and I will not leave." Then Luneta's door opened and closed.

Luneta was thoroughly disgusted with Ywain, but even more with herself. She felt sure that until her ill-judged suggestion that his love might fade, Ywain had been about to yield to her persuasion, and she had no one to blame but herself. Her frustration was not helped by Rhience's response upon being told the new state of affairs.

"You're joking," he said, his eyes widening and his lips parting in a huge smile. "The poor sod's gone and fallen in love with her?"

"It isn't funny, Rhience," Luneta said sternly.

"Then I don't know what
is
funny! Come, Luneta, it's a rollicking farce!"

"Maybe to you, but it's madness for Ywain. As long as he stays here, he's in danger. You don't think that dreadful Malvolus will stop looking for him, do you?"

Rhience's smile faded slightly. "Unlikely," he said. "I've been checking the doors and gates, and Sir Stiffus Rumpus has guards at every one, night and day. It was going to be hard enough to get Ywain out when he
wanted
to leave. As it is, I don't see what else to do but wait and hope that Ywain stays out from underfoot."

Luneta had to be satisfied with this, and before long she had little time to worry about Ywain anyway. Lady Laudine awoke and, spurning the comfort of all her elegant ladies-in-waiting, she sent for Luneta to hold her hand as she wept for her husband. All that long day, Lady Laudine cried and refused to eat and sniffed at a vinaigrette and told Luneta her memories of Sir Esclados.

"I always knew that I was safe with dear Esclados," she said as they sat together in her room that evening. "You're too young to realize it yourself, but it's such a comfort to belong to a man who will care for you. I never had to worry about anything once we were wed. But now I ... now I..."

Luneta had already learned to recognize the signs of an impending gust of tears, and when Lady Laudine trailed off, Luneta handed her a clean handkerchief. Lady Laudine wiped her eyes and sniffed into the cloth for a moment, then continued, "And he was so caring, so tender, so concerned for my comfort." Luneta couldn't help frowning at this, but she said nothing. Lady Laudine sighed deeply and said, "In all our time together, I never had a harsh word from him."

It was all Luneta could do not to point out that she'd met Sir Esclados only once, for a few minutes, and she had heard several harsh words from him, but with an effort she kept even this observation to herself. Instead she tried to change the subject. "How ... how did the two of you meet?"

Lady Laudine smiled tearfully. "I loved him as soon as I saw him," she said. "And he me. It was just like a French minstrel's romance! He invited my parents and me for a visit—he had some business with my father—and at dinner I could hardly keep my eyes from him. He was so strong, so manly. I was no child—indeed, I was nearly an old maid, being quite twenty years old—but whenever he looked at me, I'm afraid that I blushed like a little girl fresh out of the nursery." She sighed again. "He was my first love."

Luneta blinked with surprise. It seemed very odd to her to find that Lady Laudine had been twenty years old and still unmarried. Luneta knew of girls who had been married at fourteen, or even younger. "Your first love?" Luneta asked. "But with your beauty, you must have had dozens of young men at your feet."

Lady Laudine shook her head. "Indeed I did not. But I admit that I was an awkward girl and not very attractive when I was younger."

"Why then, you improved remarkably," Luneta said. "For I don't believe I've ever seen a more beautiful woman than you." Luneta didn't enjoy saying this, feeling that this was not the time to talk about superficial things, but she had already discovered that the subject of Laudine's personal appearance was one of the few things that could distract Lady Laudine from her grief. It worked, and Lady Laudine brightened perceptibly and, for a time, abandoned her imaginary memories of her kind husband.

Luneta thought periodically about Ywain, wondering if he were perhaps looking over her shoulder or standing in a corner listening, but she heard no sound and saw no sign of him. Neither did the steward, Malvolus, who continued his vengeful search for his master's killer for three full days. On the second day, a guard discovered Ywain's armor under a pile of straw in the stables, and for several days the steward went about staring suspiciously at all the men of the castle, imagining that his master's slayer was still in the castle in disguise. He was especially suspicious of Rhience, and if the fool hadn't been with Lady Laudine at the time that Sir Esclados left the castle, he would have been locked up without hesitation. Malvolus grew more dictatorial daily, but the one time that Luneta brought up the matter to Lady Laudine, suggesting that now that she was sole mistress of the castle she could get rid of her husband's steward, Lady Laudine dissolved in tears and begged Luneta, "Please, don't ask me to think of such things now! You can't understand how comforting it is for me to know that Malvolus is running the castle just as my dear husband would want."

Only when Lady Laudine was asleep did Luneta have any time to herself, and at these times she usually sought out Rhience. On the evening of the second day after Sir Esclados's death, she found him reading in the sitting room where Lady Laudine had first received them, and sank exhaustedly into a chair beside him. "Any sign of my cousin?" she asked.

"Maybe," Rhience said. "I heard a kitchen maid complaining about some missing food. She had just set it down for a moment, and then it was gone."

"He's not starving, anyway," Luneta said. She closed her eyes wearily.

"Have you put your child down for the night?" Rhience asked.

Luneta allowed one side of her mouth to smile, and she replied without opening her eyes. "If you mean Laudine, yes. And if I don't go back to my own room, then maybe no one will be able to find me to fetch me to her when she rings her bell rope."

"Is it so bad?"

Luneta shrugged. "I try to remind myself that she really is suffering. Her husband died just two days ago, and that would be a shock for anyone. And I must admit, she seems to have really loved her husband."

"Is that what you think?"

Luneta opened her eyes at this. "What else would explain all this moping around and crying all over the castle? Anyway, she told me so. It was love at first sight for both of them. Her father was visiting him on business, and they met at dinner and fell in love at once."

Rhience began to shake with laughter. "She told you that?"

"Yes."

"Did she, by any chance, tell you what the business was that Sir Esclados had with her father?"

"No. I doubt she even knew. She doesn't seem much interested in business."

"She'd have been interested in this. Their business was to arrange her dowry."

"What?"

"No joke, Luneta. Sir Esclados and Lady Laudine's father had this marriage all arranged before they even met."

Luneta stared at Rhience for a moment, then shrugged again. "I suppose you had this from the servants, and they usually know, but it doesn't mean that they didn't fall in love."

"Did you see any sign of love at dinner the night Sir Esclados died?"

Luneta shook her head. "No, I didn't. He didn't look as if he cared for her much, and as for her, she was terrified of him. In fact, when she first started talking about how much they loved each other, and how gentle and considerate he was, I could hardly believe she meant the same fellow I met, but I can't deny that she's pretty desperately broken up by his death."

"Maybe he's easier to love dead than he was alive," Rhience commented. "I've known people like that." He looked thoughtful for a moment, then added, "In fact, I know some people I'd be willing to try it on. Take Malvolus, for instance. I find him very difficult to love just now, but I'm willing to give it a try, even if it means that I have to kill him first."