The Burning Stone
Page 52

“It is time we returned to Lavas,” he said, “since we have what we came for. I will ask my cleric to name a day propitious for a long journey, and on that day we will take our leave of the king and ride west.”
“Father.” Alain stuttered to a halt. His blush certainly had as much heat as the infection on poor Ardent’s paw. He glanced up to see the servants busy at their tasks, pouring water to wash in, sweeping the steps outside. “I didn’t—we didn’t—” He could not continue, and yet he could not lie to his father.
Lavastine raised a pale eyebrow. “She has just come from the convent. She might still feel some hesitation.” Terror padded over from the window and sat stiffly beside the count, on guard. “Still,” he continued, “the practical thing for a woman is to get herself with child as quickly as possible so that she has an heir.”
Even thinking of Tallia lying pale and fragile on the bed beside him made Alain flush, and he felt all over again the ache of last night. “But it would be—” He dropped his voice to a whisper because he could not bear for anyone else, even the servants, to hear. “—a lie to exchange morning gifts.”
Lavastine massaged Ardent’s foot. He wore his most intent look as he focused on the hound’s paw. “Perhaps. But I lied to you about my intentions, at the battle at Gent. I had to, knowing you could see the Eika prince in your dreams and that he could, perhaps, see yours. Others envy us what we have gained here. If they believe that the marriage has gone unconsummated, some may even begin to whisper that it is invalid, even though a biscop blessed your union and the king himself gave his consent. We cannot afford to give them a weapon to strike against us.” All but one of the servingmen had retreated from the chamber, responsive as always to Lavastine’s moods. He glanced at the one man remaining, gave a brief nod as at a job well done, and turned to look directly at Alain. “Therefore, exchange morning gifts. She is a woman, and even if she is timid now, women above all things want heirs for their lands and titles.”
Alain wasn’t so sure, but he nodded obediently, and as if his nod had summoned her, there came a swell of voices outside the door, and then Tallia entered the chamber, stopped short, and cowered back against the wall away from the hounds.
Lavastine stood but not before glancing at Alain as if to say: “And so here she is.”
Alain’s servingman came in behind her, and Tallia covered her eyes with a corner of her shawl as Alain, settling Ardent comfortably on the bed, stood to dress. When he was decently clothed, he coaxed her over to sit on the bed beside Ardent. Once she saw that the huge hound was too weak to snap at her, she gingerly sat down, clinging to Alain’s hand.
She trusted him. That much he had won from her.
Lavastine smiled slightly and, with hands clasped behind his back, nodded to his servants to fetch the morning gift which Alain would present to his bride. Alain waited nervously, half on fire from the innocent clasp of Tallia’s hand in his, half terrified that she would find inappropriate the gift he had himself commissioned. It was not his place as the one of lesser rank to attempt to outdo her gift to him. He could not in any case, since Henry had already settled rich estates on Lavas as part of the dower. But neither could the heir to the count of Lavas permit himself to appear like a pauper before the assembled nobles of the king’s progress.
Many people had gathered outside to witness the morning gifts. When the king arrived, Alain coaxed Tallia to her feet, and they went outside to greet him.
What raucous and lewd comments greeted their appearance Alain tried not to hear. Tallia had pulled her shawl almost over her face, and she huddled against him, which only made people laugh and call out the louder, seeing it as a sign of the very transaction that had not taken place last night.
Henry was generous with his disgraced sister Sabella’s lands: together with the estates marked as part of Tallia’s dowry yesterday, the full extent of the gift in lands made as the marriage settlement doubled the size of the Lavas Holdings. Lavastine had a thin smile on his face, the closest he came to outright glee. Henry gestured, and his stewards brought two chests forward: silks, a magnificent fur-lined cape, silver plate and gold cups, handsome vestments for the Lavas clergy, rich clothing for Tallia and Alain, and brass dog collars embossed with springing roes and sportive hounds.
The crowd murmured in appreciation for Henry’s generosity.
Lavastine had known better than to attempt to outdo a king. His own servants brought forward chests filled with good cloth suitable for a noblewoman of royal lineage to clothe her servants in, silver-and-gold vessels for her to present to her clerics, and handsomely carved small chests that contained enough coins to grace an army of beggars. Last, Alain himself gave her the tiny ivory reliquary inlaid with jewels that he had commissioned. Unlocked by a delicate silver key, it contained dust from the shawl worn by the holy discipla, St. Johanna the Doubter, together with a perfect jeweled replica of a rose.