Childe Morgan Read Online Free PDF Page A

the crimson mantle, betokening both the royal house to which they owed allegiance and the blood each was prepared to shed in defense of that house.
    They all looked much alike, of course, thus uniformly arrayed, so Alyce sought out the red and white of the Lendour banner rather than any individual—and spotted it in one of the niches toward the rear of the hall. Cradling its staff in one green-clad arm was Sir Jovett Chandos, Alyce’s childhood friend and a stalwart defender of her rights in Lendour—and also, of late, a young man of particular interest to Zoë Morgan.
    â€œAlyce, there’s Jovett!” Zoë breathed.
    â€œOh, my goodness!” the younger Alazais whispered, eyes wide as saucers as she cast her gaze at the two young candidates standing near Jovett.
    Alyce laughed gently, setting her free hand under the younger girl’s elbow as she began to press her and Zoë in the direction of the three. Young Alaric looked up at all of them in some bewilderment as he let his mother draw him along.
    â€œI seem to recall a somewhat different opinion two summers ago, when you came with us to Lendour,” Alyce teased. “‘Silly boys,’ I believe you called them.”
    â€œI never!” Alazais began somewhat indignantly. “No, wait…Not Yves and Xander?”
    â€œThe very same,” Alyce replied. “And I’m told that both of them are now become quite excellent swordsmen, well deserving of the accolade. Nor have I heard that either of them is yet spoken for,” she added sotto voce , with a wink at her youngest stepdaughter.
    â€œAlyce, stop it!” Alazais hissed, blushing prettily.
    Jovett had noticed their approach, and immediately called his two charges to attention, for Alyce was Lady of Lendour, even if her sex denied her title to the earldom in her own right. Tall and straight in his court robe of emerald green, with his coppery hair sleeked back in a warrior’s knot, it was easy to see how Sir Jovett Chandos had caught Zoë’s fancy; and his mind and soul were no less comely than his appearance. As Alyce and her companions drew near, the two incipient knights sank to one knee and bowed their heads, and Jovett dipped the Lendour banner in salute.
    â€œLady of Lendour!”
    â€œSir Jovett,” Alyce replied, smiling as she caught the billow of red and white silk in one arm and let him take her other hand to salute it with a kiss. He was Deryni like herself, though secretly so, and his unspoken greeting flashed across the bond of their physical contact, even as his fond glance brushed Zoë.
    You look well and happy, dear Alyce—and young Alaric has grown.
    Sometimes by the day, it seems, came her grateful reply. Do be certain to admire his shoes, she added mischievously.
    â€œMy lady,” he said aloud, bending again in a bow to include all of them. “And can this really be young Master Alaric?” he added, as he righted the Lendour banner. “Why, what handsome shoes you wear today, my lord. Do you think they might fit me?” He drew back the skirt of his long court robe to reveal plain black boots with slightly pointed toes, gold spurs affixed to the heels.
    The boy’s look of bemusement went briefly calculating, then shifted to pleased recognition. “You’re Sir Jovett!” he declared, setting balled fists on both hips. “You have a big spotted horse!”
    â€œSpotted horse?” Alyce murmured, as she and Zoë exchanged puzzled glances.
    Feigning wide-eyed surprise, Jovett crouched down to the boy’s level, handing off the banner to one of the candidates as he did so.
    â€œWhy, I do, indeed, have a spotted horse, young master. And she now has a spotted foal. I’m surprised that you remember.”
    â€œI’m not a baby!” Alaric said indignantly. “Mama wouldn’t let me ride with you. She said I wasn’t big enough.”
    With a glance up at