"Hello, yourself," she replied, suddenly self-conscious. "Listen, Rhience, I'm sorry about leaving you without warning back—"
"By what that little green fellow said, you really didn't have much choice."
"But I did," Luneta replied. "No one made me go with him. Did Robin frighten you?"
"Not really," Rhience replied. "You see, we'd met before. He was the shepherd boy who directed me to the Storm Stone last April. He seems to be behind rather a lot. And now I suppose you've been off somewhere magical that I wouldn't understand and that you can't tell me about?"
Grateful to Rhience for not asking her directly, Luneta said, "I ... don't know if I can or not, but if it's all the same to you, I'd rather not. Have you been well? It can't have been very pleasant, spending the winter at a hermitage."
Rhience grinned. "It hasn't been too bad, actually. When I left the monastery, I thought I had no taste for the religious life, but I might have a bit more inclination to holiness than I'd thought."
Before Luneta could reply, the hermit himself appeared from the forest carrying an armload of wood. "Ah, she's come back, has she? Welcome, welcome! Stay for dinner! Stay as long as you like! How's the brew going?"
"Look for yourself," Rhience replied. "I tried to keep the fire low."
The hermit leaned over the pot that Rhience had been stirring, then beamed at him. "Just right!" He looked back at Luneta. "Are you hungry? You don't look as if you've been eating well."
"I'm very well, thank you. Not hungry at all."
"Skin and bones is what you are! Good Rhience, if you'll stir up another fire, I'll take over here. This batch is just coming to a ticklish bit."
"Oh, ay, a ticklish bit that will require you to taste it regularly just to make sure that it's doing what it should," Rhience answered good-naturedly. "Why don't I go make a fire?"
"Good man," the hermit said. "Remember that we're cooking for five, now that this lady's back."
"Five?" Luneta asked.
"Oh, yes," Rhience said. "The three of us, Ywain, and another guest, a knight from the Round Table named Bleoberis who's been with us this month and more. You might say that he's found a great affinity for the austere life of a hermit, too. He's off hunting just now, though I don't know what we'll do with his game. Ywain's still providing us with more than we can eat."
Luneta moved closer. "So Ywain's still living naked in the woods, hunting barehanded and bringing the food here to be cooked? He's no better at all?"
Rhience shrugged. "Can't say if he's healed any or not. He's not so jumpy as he used to be, but that might be just because he's gotten used to us."
At the word "healed," Luneta gave a visible start. Of course, that's what he needed: healing. And she had in her pouch a healing potion.
The hermit's voice boomed behind them. "The best batch yet! We don't want to waste any of this!"
"We never do," Rhience replied, grinning.
"Waste any of what? What is that stuff?" Luneta asked.
Rhience's eyes grew bright with merriment. "As it happens, before the good hermit Godwulf was articled to a butcher, he spent some time in apprenticeship to a brewer."
"That's beer?"
Rhience said, "Godwulf calls it 'Merry-Go-Up.'"
Luneta looked at Rhience, then at the hermit, then back at Rhience. "This is the austere life of a hermit that you were talking of?"
"All right, not austere, exactly," Rhience admitted.
"More meat than you can eat and more beer than you can drink?"
"If you want to put it that way."
"'The right holy Hermit of the Hunt,'" Luneta said slowly. "Holy indeed."
"To tell you the truth, I believe he is," Rhience said suddenly. "Oh, I know that such a life wouldn't be especially holy for most people, but our good Godwulf—my dear, you've never seen a man who was more thankful for what he has than our friend there."
"Why wouldn't he be thankful? He has everything he wants."
"But surely you've noticed that it hardly ever works that way. Those who have the most are nearly always the least grateful for what they have. Godwulf there, he spends his entire day giving thanks to God and sharing what he has with everyone who passes by. The local farmers and villagers are beginning to come to him for spiritual advice."
"Spiritual advice? What sort of spiritual advice does he give?"
"He says, 'Enjoy your food, enjoy your work, give thanks to God.' Then he usually hands them a pint of ale."
Luneta watched the burly brewer for a moment. Then her face clouded. "But Rhience, his bounty all comes from poor, mad Ywain. What would happen to him if Ywain were to be healed?"
Rhience thought about this briefly. "I shouldn't think it would bother him at all. Sir Bleoberis is already talking about building another cottage and staying on here—best hunting he's ever seen, he says—and many of the local people who come to visit the hermit bring gifts as well." Then Rhience's eyes narrowed. "Why? Do you think Ywain might get better?"
Luneta nodded. "I have ... well, I have this lotion that might help him. And I have to try."
"Something from that magical place you'd rather not discuss?" Luneta nodded, and Rhience grinned. "We'll try it tonight."
Luneta had been afraid that Godwulf and the knight Sir Bleoberis might not be pleased at the prospect of their food source being healed, but she needn't have worried. No one could have been more excited than Godwulf about Ywain's being restored, and as for Sir Bleoberis—a bluff, enormously good-natured knight with rough manners and an open smile, whom Luneta liked at once—he seemed pleased at the prospect of going hunting more often.
So it was with great anticipation that four pairs of eyes watched the shaggy and nearly unrecognizable Ywain creep out of the woods that evening, eat his dinner, then curl up in the fur robe that was his nightly bed. When they were sure he was asleep, Luneta went to him, dropped a single drop of her healing lotion on his temple, and gently rubbed it into his skin.
"That's it?" whispered Sir Bleoberis when she had come back to the other watchers.
Luneta shrugged. "I hope so. I haven't actually done this before."
Then they were still. Ywain had moved. As they watched nervously, he sat up and looked about, his eyes blank and confused-looking. Luneta's heart sank; it hadn't worked. Then Ywain spoke.
"Luneta? Where are my clothes?"
"There it is, Luneta," Rhience said. "Now, one more time. Are you sure you want to go back?"
Luneta looked for a long moment at the towers of Laudine's castle, just showing above the hill where they sat on their horses. It was true that she could summon very little excitement about rejoining her silly, malleable friend and no interest at all in returning to the realm of the steward Malvolus, but she nodded. "Laudine was good to me; I won't desert her."
"Like some have," said Ywain in a wooden voice.
"I didn't mean that, Ywain," Luneta said quickly. "I didn't mean to rebuke you."
"I know. I rebuke myself" was the reply. Taking a deep breath, Ywain turned his eyes away from the castle, his face expressionless.
"All right, then," Rhience said. "You should be able to get there on your own from here."
Luneta nodded, a lump in her throat. She didn't want to leave Ywain and Rhience, whose company she had enjoyed very much over the past few days as they had ridden together to Laudine's castle. Ywain was quiet, but he was a much more thoughtful companion than he had been the previous year. He would still occasionally lose himself in his own thoughts, but it was clear that he was no longer dreaming of glory. More likely, from his rigid countenance, he was brooding on his betrayal of Laudine, but when he did speak, it was never about himself. Besides having a different attitude than before, Ywain simply looked different. He rode Sir Bleoberis's horse, and he wore a scarred and dented suit of armor that Rhience had found for him at a shop in Winchester, and most striking of all, he had trimmed neither his hair nor his beard. He looked like a wild beast in shabby armor. Ywain was no longer the callow youth who
had ridden beside them from Orkney; even less was he the love-struck courtier who had knelt at Laudine's feet; perhaps least of all was he the "Unattainable Knight" who had been the idol of the court ladies.
"I'll be fine," Luneta said to Rhience. "You?"
"Fine," Rhience replied. "I think I'll just trail along with His Shagginess here for a while. Every fool dreams of one day working with an animal act."
Luneta suppressed a giggle, and even Ywain granted this sally a perfunctory smile. Luneta turned back toward the castle, but before she could begin, Ywain spoke. "How long will you stay?"
Luneta hesitated. "I don't know," she admitted at last.
"We'll come back to check on you in a few weeks," Ywain said suddenly. "If you're ready to leave, we'll take you away."
Luneta's heart felt suddenly lighter. "Take me where?"
Ywain's eyes, which seemed oddly older than his face, met hers. "Wherever you like, Luneta. I think you no longer need your parents' permission to do what you wish."
Maybe I look older, too. Luneta nodded to Ywain, then urged her horse forward over the hill. Ten minutes later she was at the front gate of Laudine's castle, where not only was the portcullis closed but the great wooden gate behind it as well.
"Open up!" she called. A face appeared in one of the bow loops in the tower above. "Come on! It's Lady Luneta! Open the gates!"
For several long minutes there was no sound. Luneta banged on the gate with increasing vehemence, until at last the portcullis rose slowly and the gate swung out toward her. There, in the courtyard, was a company of armed guards pointing spears at Luneta, and at their head was Malvolus.
"My dear Lady Luneta," he purred. "I quite thought you had forgotten us."
"I was delayed," she said. "Take me to Laudine at once."
The steward made no move to obey. "If only I had known that you would be returning," he said, "we shouldn't have had to hold the trial without your presence."
"Trial?"
"I'm very much afraid that you've been found guilty of treason," he said. "Guards, take her to the prison in the woods. At once."
VIII. The Knight of the Lion
Luneta's prison was a squat, newly built structure surrounded by trees, and judging from the fact that the dirt floor inside was still loose, she was its first occupant. Everything was stone except the ceiling and door, which were solid oak that might as well have been stone. A thin slit of a window beside the door and a slightly larger barred window on the back wall were the only sources of light.
The soldiers had taken her horse and her baggage—which of course included all the herbs and powders that she had so recently learned how to use—before locking her in. From the window Luneta could see a solitary guard sitting by a fire across a small clearing from the door. She called once, but the guard ignored her. She sat in the fresh dirt and thought over her surprising change of circumstances. Clearly, Malvolus was in control of the castle, and Luneta should not expect help from Laudine. If Malvolus had actually held a mock trial of some sort and convicted Luneta of treason in her absence, then he must have poisoned Laudine's mind against her. It was odd, though, that Luneta had been imprisoned in a secret cell away from the castle instead of in one of the dungeon rooms inside. This alone gave Luneta hope, because it might mean that Malvolus didn't want Laudine to know what he was doing, which could imply that he didn't have Laudine completely under his thumb.
After considering these things, Luneta turned her mind to her situation. If she had her bags, she would be able to escape by any of a number of means. With one powder, she could make a fierce fire and burn the door down. She had a lotion that would soften the iron bars in the back window so that they could be pushed aside like string. She had sleeping powders for the guards, if she could get them to eat something, but without her bags she could do none of these things anyway. Without any magical aids, all she could do was control her own senses so that she felt only what she wanted to feel, make a few small objects fly about, and by touching some living thing speed up or slow down its natural growth. All this was helpful in certain situations and excellent for producing butterflies, but it was not as useful for getting through stone walls.
Night came, then morning. Luneta slept beautifully, having told her body to feel the hard ground as if it were a feather bed, but when she awoke she was no nearer to knowing what to do. Faint voices in the distance drew her to the window by the door, and through the narrow slit she saw two soldiers approaching through the woods. Focusing her "inner ear," as Robin had called it, she heard the first one saying, "His Grace wants her dead, but he wants it to look an accident, see."
"Why?"
"Her ladyship's still being stubborn, and he figures if he hangs the girl in public it'll make her angry at him. So what we do is give 'er this poisoned food, see? Then he takes 'er body to Lady Laudine and tells 'er that she was found in the woods dead."
"I don't much like poisoning," the other guard said. "It makes a body scream and thrash about so."
"Stop up your ears. That's what I always does. Here, fill up the bucket at this stream. We got to give 'er some water, too."
"Why, if she's just going to die?"
"So she won't suspicion the food, of course. Do I have to do all your thinking for you?"
The two soldiers came near, greeted the guard in the clearing, then put two buckets inside Luneta's door and left. Luneta watched one of them take the other guard's place, stuffing some wads of cloth into his ears; then she turned to consider the buckets. The water was all right, having just been scooped out of the stream, but how would she eat? Clearly any food that was brought to her would be deadly. She could enchant her body to feel no hunger, but that wouldn't stop her from dying of starvation. How long would Malvolus keep her here? Having no answer, she drank some water and buried the food in the loose dirt at a corner of the cell. When she began to feel the first hunger pangs, she used magic to suppress them, but no charm would take away her sense of foreboding.
It was midafternoon when Malvolus arrived in person. He threw open the prison door and stepped carelessly inside, then stopped at the sight of Luneta standing against the far wall. "You?" he exclaimed.
"You were expecting someone else?" Luneta asked. "I'm terribly sorry to disappoint you, but if you'd like I could go now."
Malvolus looked at the empty food bucket, then back at Luneta, then gritted his teeth against his anger. "Did you like your breakfast, my dear?" he asked.
"It was lovely, thank you."
His lips twisted in a thin, vicious smile, and he said, "Excellent. I'll see that you get extra tomorrow." Then he turned and left.
This pattern was repeated the following day, with the same result, except that Malvolus was even more incensed at finding her still alive. The third day he didn't even come himself but sent a guard to check on her. Luneta still felt fine, but she had begun to notice that her dress hung more loosely on her, and she knew she had to find something to eat. Looking through her barred window, though, all she saw was trees, most of them just beginning to leaf out after the winter. On the fourth morning, the nearest of the trees showed a small white blossom, and Luneta almost gasped with delight. An apple blossom. Using magic she coaxed a limb over to the window, touched one of the nodes on the twig, and muttered a few words. Immediately the node burst into flower, then dropped its petals and began to swell up. In less than a minute, Luneta was holding a large red apple. She ate the apple quickly, then began to experiment. Most of the other trees were oaks, and though she could produce acorns she wasn't able to muster much appetite for them, but there was also a walnut tree. Between apples and walnuts, she should be all right for a while—and Ywain had said they would be back to check on her in a few weeks, if Malvolus would wait that long.
Malvolus wasn't good at waiting, however. After two weeks of finding Luneta not only alive but obviously feeling very well indeed, he changed his approach. One afternoon he rode alone to the prison in the woods, dismounted, then dismissed
the guard in the clearing. Luneta watched this new development apprehensively. When the guard had gone, Malvolus stepped into Luneta's room, holding a long, thin dagger in one hand. "So, my dear. You appear to be stronger than I'd expected."
Luneta said nothing.
"Quite remarkable, really. A woman this strong should not be a prisoner but a princess."
"Well, if you want to be technical, I already am," Luneta said. "My grandfather was a king, you see. So is my great-uncle. You may have heard of him—his name is Arthur, and I'm sure he's wondering where I am by now. I was supposed to be at Camelot by—"
"Spare me your lies, my dear. You're very good at it, but I saw through your plot from the beginning."
"You mean the plot to steal Laudine's castle?"
"That's right."
"You don't really believe that, do you? I thought that was just a story you concocted to fool Laudine."
Malvolus shook his head sadly. "Please do not try to act the innocent, when I know that you are a manipulator worthy of ... well, worthy of a man like me."
Luneta fought back a wave of nausea. "I thank you for the compliment, sir, but you do me far too much honor."
"Together we could rule much more than just these few lands, you know. I could make the plots, and you could make people believe them. The way you cozened up to poor, stupid Laudine! Why, she still can't quite believe that you were against her! I must take my hat off to you. Think what we could do as associates."
"I believe that you would be happier with a different associate," Luneta said. "A snake, perhaps. Or a spider."
Malvolus's leering smile disappeared. "I believe that you shall regret that. What you do not choose to offer willingly may be taken by force."
He raised his dagger threateningly, and Luneta saw anger and madness in his eyes. She didn't hesitate. Staring hard at the dagger, enunciating clearly a few words, and waving her hand, she made the blade leap from Malvolus's grasp and sink itself into one of the ceiling beams. Malvolus's face went white and he staggered away, slamming the door behind him. Luneta heard the lock click, and she stepped up to the window by the door.
The Lioness and Her Knight Page 14
