"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."

Indignant, Bert struggled against his grip. "I won't let them take me, Daddy."

"I know you won't, Bertie, but you'll let Eudo help you." With a lift of the brow, David indicated to Eudo the hazard he had set him, not just in the journey, but in the handling of Bert. "Eudo, there's no one else to do it. When Osbern sends, his knights will first tell of my defeat, then try to bribe my men. One of them will take the bribe and give Bert up. That's why I trust you, Eudo, and not them. You've proved your honesty to me."

Eudo's young mouth firmed, and David didn't care that the lad had no whiskers yet or that his voice occasionally squeaked. Knowing Eudo would care for Bert eased his worry. "You'll have to be wary and ready to slip away unseen." David took one of Eudo's hands in his. "This is going to be much, much worse than that thing in the graveyard. You'll be constantly frightened, but remember the nettles you planted in the rocks to protect Lady Alisoun from the archer?"

Eudo nodded.

"That's the kind of ingenuity that will get Bert to George's Cross."

"I'll get her to George's Cross, sir. I swear I will."

"I know you will. Once there, Lady Alisoun will take care of you."

Now Bert piped up and showed how little she truly comprehended. "Daddy, are you going to go fight that nasty man and get Philippa back?"

"I'm going to go fight him." And the memory of their last battle rose to haunt him. Taking a deep breath, he tried to calm the sudden pounding of his heart. "I'm going to try to kill him, because he deserves it. And I'm going to make it safe for Philippa to have her baby with her once more."

The children didn't hear his doubt. They only heard the magnificence of his goal, and their faces shone with pride and admiration.

Bert grinned, and Sir David saw the gap where she'd lost a tooth within the last few days. In his drunken stupor, he hadn't notice, but she forgave him-all because she loved him.

She said, "I know you'll save her. You'll come back, because you're the best warrior in the land and I love you a lot."

The faith she had! And Eudo stood with his chest thrown out and a great smile on his face, too. Crushing them in his arms, David said, "I love you both, too." Was love really so strong a bridge between souls? His granny had said it was. She said that even after his death, his love would continue, warm like a fire. Tentatively, feeling like a fool for entrusting this message to children, he said, "I want you to do one thing for me. Will you tell Lady Alisoun that I love her?"

If anything, they smiled more. "Oh, aye, Daddy, I'll tell her," Bert promised.

"I will, too, Sir David." Eudo started to walk away.

"Where are you going?" David asked.

"To get your armor and your weapons. Isn't that what your squire is supposed to do?"

"Aye. Aye, that's what my squire is supposed to do."

The carts started down the road from George's Cross to the village below. Laden with linens, with silk for a wedding gown and presents to please Edlyn's new lord, they represented the finest trousseau Alisoun could a.s.semble for the girl who had grown to mean so much to her.

Edlyn stood, her feet firmly planted in the bailey, and looked around at the buildings and the keep as if she could impress the images on her heart forever. Impulsively, she turned to Alisoun. "Couldn't I stay until-"

"Until when?" Alisoun tried to smile, but her lips trembled too much. "Until Hazel grows used to me and accepts me as her mother? Until I have this babe? Until...until when?"

"You're just so alone," Edlyn burst out. "Heath is no subst.i.tute for Philippa. Hazel is no subst.i.tute for me. And Sir Walter..."

She hesitated. No one had spoken David's name in Alisoun's presence since they'd left that breeding ground of bitterness called Radcliffe. With a composure that no longer came naturally, Alisoun said, "Nay, Sir Walter is no subst.i.tute for Sir David, at least when I need companionship."

"He just seemed the man who could please you," Edlyn burst out. "Will you ever forgive him?"

"Nay." Just that one word, flat and final.

"I wish..."

"So do I, but wishing cannot mend a broken fence." Alisoun touched Edlyn on the shoulder. "Anyway, when I took you with me to Radcliffe, I told myself your bridegroom wouldn't notice another month, but you have to ride south before winter comes, for I believe he will notice another year."

"At his age, what's another year?"

Alisoun couldn't help it; she laughed at the puckish expression on Edlyn's face. Then Edlyn laughed, too, accepting her fate a little better.

"Hey!"

A man's shout interrupted them, and Edlyn's face lit up. "Hugh." His name was only an exhalation, but the joy in her voice vibrated through Alisoun. Glowing with youth and spirit, Edlyn waved enthusiastically at the man she loved with an unrequited pa.s.sion.

Loping over, he stood next to them, a big, stupid youth who had no thoughts in his head beyond the security of George's Cross, his practice that day on the training yard, and his ambitions. Without even knowing it, he crushed Edlyn's hopes. "Are you leaving today? I hadn't realized." Enveloping her in a fraternal hug, he said, "G.o.d speed you on your journey, and I wish you the greatest happiness with your new husband."

"My thanks." Edlyn said it to his back as he hurried off.

"He takes his duty to protect my demesne seriously." Alisoun found herself making excuses to combat the woeful expression on Edlyn's face.

"What will he do when Sir Walter is able to resume his duties once more?" Edlyn asked.

"We'll knight him." Alisoun looked ahead to that day when she would have to make that decision, and it seemed like just one more burden placed back on her shoulders by David's perfidy. "Then I suppose he'll go looking for adventure and fortune."

"I suppose. And I suppose I'll never see him again. I suppose that's all for the best."

Edlyn's quiet agony as she said good-bye to her childhood dreams tore at Alisoun's heart. She tried to think of something to say, something to ease the pain, but her experience with such emotions was new. How could she help Edlyn when she couldn't even help herself?

Crossing her arms over her chest, Edlyn whispered, "Will I ever see you again?"

Alisoun could offer no more than feeble hope. "Perhaps someday I will go up to London with my children and we can meet there."

"You can't take Lord Osbern's child out where others can see her, and you won't leave her home."

Alisoun couldn't dispute that.

"So I will never see you again."

"We'll leave that in G.o.d's hands."

Edlyn nodded, her eyes dry, her gaze steady. "Aye, that would be best."

Once, not so long ago, Alisoun had been like a mother to Edlyn, and Edlyn had believed Alisoun could twist events to make everything right. She no longer expected that-she'd learned differently through these last long summer days-but she loved Alisoun none the less. Now they were women, united in grief and going their separate ways. Opening their arms to each other, they hugged. Then a groom helped Edlyn into the saddle and with a wave and a brave smile, she rode away.

At last Alisoun had seen her ambition for Edlyn come to fruition. The la.s.s who had been terrified by Osbern's attack had been replaced by the young woman who went to get married. Edlyn now faced the grief of her life with stolid maturity. Yet Alisoun wished that the girl had not had so many ideals crushed, so many dreams destroyed.

If maturity was nothing more than cynicism and unhappiness, then it was highly overrated, and Alisoun herself wanted none of it.

Alisoun ran to the drawbridge and stood staring at the retreating procession.