Page 20 of While Angels Slept
Charles threw up his arms. “Must everyone disobey me at my own house?” he cried. “Give me your weapon, de Lohr. Give it to me now.”
Myles broadsword was lying on his bed in the next room, thankfully. Myles set his wine down and stood up.
“I am sworn to you, my lord,” he said steadily. “If there is any defending to be done, I will do it in your stead.”
Charles grabbed him as if to shake him, but Myles was too big a man to shake. “I do not defend anything. I will kill him.”
“Kill who?”
Charles’ expression was beyond madness. It was obsession and impulse, blended into an elixir of pure psychosis. “The viscount. He has shamed me. He has killed my son. He must pay.”
Now it was Myles’ turn to grab Charles. “You speak treason, my lord,” he said quietly, firmly. “I will hear no more of this. Should the viscount catch wind of what you have said, it would mean great danger for you and possibly your family. You must keep yourself in check, my lord, or all will be lost. Do you understand me?”
Charles’ lips curled back in a sneer that just as quickly faded. “I understand that he has invaded my home. Rochester is no longer mine.”
“Rochester will always belong to the stewards,” Myles assured him, praying that the man would get a grip on himself. “Get some sleep, my lord. You’ve not slept for days and your exhaustion is weighing heavily. Come to the next room and…”
Charles yanked away from Myles, pacing sloppily across the floor. “She did this,” he muttered. “That foolish wench has caused this. She sides with him, you know.”
“Who?”
“The viscount,” Charles insisted. “She sides with him. He protects her. They are going to take Rochester away from me. Well, that will not happen. It cannot. I forbid it!”
He suddenly bolted from the room before Myles could catch him. He stood in the doorway, watching Charles lose himself in the bustle of the ward. He could only shake his head. So much for the idea of sleep.
Myles went in search of Tevin.
*
The September daywas cool and rainy. Clouds had moved in off the sea and a steady rain had pounded the land since late morning. Cantia was in the solar with Val, feeling obligated to give special attention to the sister of her liege. After the meal that the injured lady so delicately ate, for even swallowing seemed to be painful, Cantia had the fire stoked and proceeded to warm some water to wash the lady with.
Val didn’t protest as Cantia ran a warm, wet cloth over her one good shoulder and one good arm, and then moved to clean the dirt off her face. Val really was a pretty woman, even prettier without all of the grime associated with battle. Cantia said little as she bathed her patient and made every effort to insure the woman’s comfort. Val had been watching her closely, however, thinking that she had never before seen such a lovely woman. She could understand her brother’s fascination with her.
At some point, Hunt entered the solar with the ever-present dog on his heels. Hunt was used to coming and going as he pleased, for his father never admonished him for anything. Brac had always been unusually lenient with the child and though Hunt wasn’t spoiled, he was bold. He walked right up to Val as Cantia tightened the bandages that braced her bad shoulder.
His big blue eyes focused on the lady knight. “You are not a real knight,” he said flatly.
Cantia looked at her son with displeasure. “Hunt, you are rude to address the lady so,” she admonished firmly. “Please apologize.”
But Val grinned, waving off the motherly scolding. “Nay, my lady, he is quite right,” she said. “I am not a man and, therefore, not a real knight. But I fight as one anyway.”
“Why?” Hunt asked innocently.
“Because that is my calling.”
Hunt cocked his head. “You are called? Called what?”
Val’s grin broadened. “I simply mean that this is what I do. I was born to do it.”
“But…” his little nose scrunched in confusion. “How can you fight if you are not a real knight?”
“Enough,” Cantia turned her son around and faced him towards the door. “Take George outside and play with him. Throw him the balls. He likes that.”
Hunt dug his heels in. “But I’m hungry!”
“Then go to the kitchen,” she slapped him lightly on the buttocks. “Cook will give you something to eat. Go now and leave me in peace.”
Hunt did as he was told, but not before he walked a wide circle around the room, touching everything within his reach, all the while watching his mother finish tending the lady knight. Only when Cantia shot him a threatening look did he leave the room completely. When he was gone, she dared meet Val’s amused gaze.
