guests.
"And now to bed," Alinor said very definitely.
More pleas, eyes raised adoringly to their champion. Ian glanced at Alinor, almost as pleadingly. She laughed but shook her head. He sighed.
"You must obey your mother. I will be here tomorrow."
"Only tomorrow?" A double shriek that made Ian clap his hands to his ears.
"I do not know."
"Only one day!" "You have barely come!" "It is not enough!" "Please, Ian, please." The chorus was ear-splitting.
"If I can—" Ian said uncertainly.
"Enough!" Alinor ordered very sharply. "You shame me. One does not plead with a man to turn aside from his duty. Begone!"
"Let me kiss them good night."
"As you will. But they do not deserve it."
He embraced both, one in each arm, as usual. They walked slowly away, drooping dejectedly. Ian started to rise. "Sit!" Alinor hissed, fighting the twitching of her lips. Eventually, feet dragging, they disappeared into the stairwell.
"Let me go up," Ian said. "They are so sad."
Alinor laughed softly. "Ian, they play you like a fish. You are too indulgent. You will spoil them."
"Am I? Will I? But they are such good children, so clever, so beautiful."
"Clever and beautiful, perhaps, but good? They are little hellions." She was laughing fondly. "All that sorrow was for your benefit. Doubtless they are already pummeling each other, throwing the pillows about, and creating general havoc."
Ian smiled. "I hope so. I cannot bear to see them sad." He hesitated.
Before he could bring himself to say what was obviously next, Alinor shook her head. "You do not look much rested," she remarked. "Did you sleep at all?"
"Yes."
"I am about to commit the sin I just scolded my children for," Alinor sighed. "I wish you had a little time to spare us. I am worried about Adam, about Joanna, too, but that is a lesser problem."
"About Adam? But he is the happiest child, and clever, and strong in arms, too."
Alinor turned her head so that she faced the flames. "He has no man to look up to," she said. "He has had no one but Beorn for more than a year. Simon tried, but he was too sick. Adam is still too young to send for fostering. I cannot send him to William and Lady Isobel. The king is so bitter against William. I suppose I must get a tutor for him, but who, Ian? I cannot take a young man in. Do you know of a married man, perhaps with children, who would do fealty and be loyal to me?"
Surreptitiously, Alinor raised a hand and wiped tears from her cheeks. Ian clenched his fists, and then carefully and deliberately opened his hands. Had Alinor turned to look at him, she would have seen he was unnaturally flushed. It was all she could do, however, to keep from wailing aloud. There were far worse troubles than Adam's burdening her, but it was not fair to worry Ian when it was plain he had problems of bis own and could not help. If Ian could suggest some man to tutor Adam, Alinor felt that even so small a lessening of her burden would be like a foretaste of heaven.
"Set aside Adam's needs for the moment," Ian said. His voice was very harsh.
Alinor bit her lips together. She had no claim on Ian. She had no claim on any man living, except her vassals, and the best of those, the men most closely bound to her in love and loyalty, were dead. Their sons had obeyed Simon gladly, but whether they would accept Alinor's rule docilely she did not know. In any case, it was not Ian's responsibility. She lifted her head defiantly.
"Of course. If you can help, I will be grateful. If not, there is no reason why you should trouble yourself. Let me get you some more wine, and tell me what brings you back to England, and―"
"No reason why I should help! Do you know what Simon was to me?"
"I know you were his squire and he loved you dearly, but I have no claim―"
"Simon made me a man. He never told you? No, I suppose he would not. My father was—I do not know what to say. He killed my mother—beat her to death. He tortured and murdered for amusement. Do you know I have no
"And now to bed," Alinor said very definitely.
More pleas, eyes raised adoringly to their champion. Ian glanced at Alinor, almost as pleadingly. She laughed but shook her head. He sighed.
"You must obey your mother. I will be here tomorrow."
"Only tomorrow?" A double shriek that made Ian clap his hands to his ears.
"I do not know."
"Only one day!" "You have barely come!" "It is not enough!" "Please, Ian, please." The chorus was ear-splitting.
"If I can—" Ian said uncertainly.
"Enough!" Alinor ordered very sharply. "You shame me. One does not plead with a man to turn aside from his duty. Begone!"
"Let me kiss them good night."
"As you will. But they do not deserve it."
He embraced both, one in each arm, as usual. They walked slowly away, drooping dejectedly. Ian started to rise. "Sit!" Alinor hissed, fighting the twitching of her lips. Eventually, feet dragging, they disappeared into the stairwell.
"Let me go up," Ian said. "They are so sad."
Alinor laughed softly. "Ian, they play you like a fish. You are too indulgent. You will spoil them."
"Am I? Will I? But they are such good children, so clever, so beautiful."
"Clever and beautiful, perhaps, but good? They are little hellions." She was laughing fondly. "All that sorrow was for your benefit. Doubtless they are already pummeling each other, throwing the pillows about, and creating general havoc."
Ian smiled. "I hope so. I cannot bear to see them sad." He hesitated.
Before he could bring himself to say what was obviously next, Alinor shook her head. "You do not look much rested," she remarked. "Did you sleep at all?"
"Yes."
"I am about to commit the sin I just scolded my children for," Alinor sighed. "I wish you had a little time to spare us. I am worried about Adam, about Joanna, too, but that is a lesser problem."
"About Adam? But he is the happiest child, and clever, and strong in arms, too."
Alinor turned her head so that she faced the flames. "He has no man to look up to," she said. "He has had no one but Beorn for more than a year. Simon tried, but he was too sick. Adam is still too young to send for fostering. I cannot send him to William and Lady Isobel. The king is so bitter against William. I suppose I must get a tutor for him, but who, Ian? I cannot take a young man in. Do you know of a married man, perhaps with children, who would do fealty and be loyal to me?"
Surreptitiously, Alinor raised a hand and wiped tears from her cheeks. Ian clenched his fists, and then carefully and deliberately opened his hands. Had Alinor turned to look at him, she would have seen he was unnaturally flushed. It was all she could do, however, to keep from wailing aloud. There were far worse troubles than Adam's burdening her, but it was not fair to worry Ian when it was plain he had problems of bis own and could not help. If Ian could suggest some man to tutor Adam, Alinor felt that even so small a lessening of her burden would be like a foretaste of heaven.
"Set aside Adam's needs for the moment," Ian said. His voice was very harsh.
Alinor bit her lips together. She had no claim on Ian. She had no claim on any man living, except her vassals, and the best of those, the men most closely bound to her in love and loyalty, were dead. Their sons had obeyed Simon gladly, but whether they would accept Alinor's rule docilely she did not know. In any case, it was not Ian's responsibility. She lifted her head defiantly.
"Of course. If you can help, I will be grateful. If not, there is no reason why you should trouble yourself. Let me get you some more wine, and tell me what brings you back to England, and―"
"No reason why I should help! Do you know what Simon was to me?"
"I know you were his squire and he loved you dearly, but I have no claim―"
"Simon made me a man. He never told you? No, I suppose he would not. My father was—I do not know what to say. He killed my mother—beat her to death. He tortured and murdered for amusement. Do you know I have no
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