The King's Deryni (38 page)

He glanced across the hall, where Cornelius Seaton and a squire called Nolen MacInnis were staring in their direction, then rose and quietly drew Cormac with him into the outer corridor, though he stood where he could keep an eye on his nemesis.

“You might as well know that that dark-haired squire across the way is the bishop's nephew. His name is Cornelius Seaton, and the older boy with him is called Nolan MacInnis. Don't look at them. Cornelius is not happy that I've brought you out of the hall.”

“Why? What business is it of his?” Cormac said indignantly, though he tried not to stare in that direction.

Alaric allowed himself a heavy sigh. “Because he hates me, and because he's already jealous that I'm even talking to you. Be warned that he
will
toady up to you, because you're a prince, and he'll try to keep you from becoming my friend.” He glanced at his boots. “If that's your decision, I'll respect that. But if he tries to bully you into avoiding me, that's quite another.”

Cormac pursed his lips, clearly offended that Cornelius should presume. “I choose my own friends,” he said quietly. “And I don't think that anyone called Cornelius is going to be among them.”

“You should at least meet him,” Alaric replied. “And he
is
a squire; you'll have to deal with him, at least in training.”

“Do you?—deal with him, that is.”

Alaric shrugged. “I do my best to avoid him, and to do better than he does. For now, it helps that he's a squire and I'm still a page. Duke Richard and the king are aware of the problem, but I still watch my back.”

“That sounds like good advice,” Cormac observed, then drew himself to attention as Prince Ronan caught his eye from across the hall. “Whoops, I'm being summoned. My brother thinks he's king already. I'll see you later.”

“Hast thou a wife after thy mind? Forsake her not: but give not thyself over to a light woman.”

—ECCLESIASTICUS 7:26

A
S
darkness began to fall—early, for these long winter nights—Alaric and Prince Cormac were instructed to remain at the queen's bidding, serving her and the princesses at table and taking turns in attendance for anything the royal ladies might require. It was a fitting introduction to the gentler aspects of life as a Haldane page, but it also enabled Alaric to avoid Cornelius. Across the hall, Duncan served his father and his elder brother, who was allowed to sit at Jared's side. Alaric had been present at several Twelfth Night courts, but he was noticing a change in his perspective, now that he was part of the functioning of the event.

He was tired by the time he and the other pages and squires were dismissed for the night, but it took him a while to fall asleep. Though back in his familiar bed, he was acutely aware that Llion no longer slept on the pallet at his feet but in the chamber that formerly had been Kenneth's. At least when Alaric finally did fall asleep, he did not dream.

The very next day, as local visitors eyed the aftermath of the storm and some began to depart, training resumed at the Haldane court. Duke Jared would remain for a few days more, with Duncan and Kevin at their leisure, for it was too short a time for them to join the training with the Haldane squires and pages, but he was mostly sequestered with the king and Prince Ronan, who had a ship waiting for him at Desse. Llion joined Duke Richard's staff, and was little seen for the first few days. Alaric, for his part, was conducted with Prince Cormac and Xavier to join the rest of the Haldane pages for a series of discussions on the history of Gwynedd and elements of protocol, conducted by Sir Ninian and sometimes Duke Richard himself.

Alaric soon decided that the sessions were intended to assess what the three newcomers already knew, because most of the questions were directed at them. The other pages seemed affable enough, if reserved. Alaric decided that it probably was because of a prince among them, and counted himself fortunate that someone else was providing the focus of curiosity. Alaric knew a few of the boys slightly from previous stays at court, and had outridden almost all of them in the competitions surrounding the king's birthday tourney nearly two years before.

This theoretical evaluation lasted only a few days, before training shifted to less cerebral activities than history and protocol.

Duke Richard was a consummate gentleman and courtier, but he was also a stern taskmaster when it came to preparing young men for eventual knighthood. Weather would prevent much outdoor activity for most of January, but the royal duke and Sir Ninian had a multitude of drills and exercises that could be pursued in the great hall by pages and squires alike; and there were always the lectures, usually delivered before the great fireplace or sometimes in the king's council room.

Duke Richard and Sir Ninian took considerable time during the next few days evaluating the skills and deficiencies of the boys newly come to Haldane training, at least regarding their weapons ability. Both archery and sword drills were a given, well suited to indoor practice. Alaric did well enough with those, though he had not yet regained full strength in his right arm.

“It will come back, lad,” Sir Ninian reassured him, after watching for several minutes. “The arm is sound.”

Thus encouraged, Alaric returned to the basic exercises, and grew stronger each day. He had thought that the weather would preclude any real-time assessment of horsemanship skills; not that the prospect worried him. But there were indoor exercises even for that, he soon discovered, though he knew that the duke and Sir Ninian were well aware of his own skills astride a horse; and if there had been any doubt, Llion was now working with Ninian.

Nonetheless, he had to demonstrate his own abilities just like the other boys, working through a series of drills involving a wooden sawhorse equipped with a saddle, that tested the agility of would-be riders as they vaulted from ground to saddle—first wearing hunting leathers, then shifting to boiled leather practice armor with a wooden sword in hand. That soon progressed to whacking at targets with said wooden sword after vaulting into the saddle, or retrieving weapons from the ground without dismounting.

But he apparently performed to Sir Ninian's satisfaction, such that he was soon paired with Prince Cormac, who had not done so well on the mounts and dismounts astride a false steed.

“It's easier to do this with a real horse,” Cormac grumbled, as Alaric gave him a leg back up after a particularly noisy fall.

Alaric agreed, but it did no good to commiserate when Sir Ninian was watching both of them like an eagle. Cormac still would need to perform.

Fortunately, once the Llanneddi prince adjusted to the pseudo-steed, he proved to have good saddle skills, quite comparable with Alaric's own, and his skills with wooden sword and lance were of a similar level. Moreover, the pair got along well: a happenstance that apparently set the king to thinking, for he soon called both boys to a private interview in his withdrawing room.

“Have a seat, lads,” he said, with a gesture inviting them to sit at the table that usually displayed maps and markers. “Duke Richard tells me that both of you are doing quite well. Alaric, I understand that your arm is healing nicely.”

“It is, Sire,” Alaric murmured.

“Good.” With his own hand, the king poured mugs of hot cider for the three of them, then pushed two of the mugs across the table.

“He also said that the two of you seem to get along very well,” the king went on. “That got me to thinking that an adjustment to your living arrangements might suit both of you—provided that you agree, of course.”

As the king drank deeply of his cider, Alaric glanced sidelong at the Llanneddi prince, wondering what the king had in mind. Cormac, for his part, looked mystified.

“Cormac, I know that you are presently billeted with the knight left by your brother to see to your safety,” Brion said, setting down his mug. “However, I've received word that your father needs him back in Pwyllheli, so it has occurred to me that you might like to share accommodations with Alaric and his knight, Sir Llion. It was formerly the apartment of Alaric's father, the Earl of Lendour, so it befits your rank. If either of you would rather not,” he added, at the looks of surprise on the two young faces, “I shall understand. But it seems to me that the arrangement would provide good company for both of you. Because of who you are, I cannot ask either of you to share dormitory accommodations as the other pages do, but it would give you something of the experience of communal living. And Cormac, it would place you under the personal protection of Sir Llion, when you are not directly involved in training. There are few who can match him as a teacher, as Alaric will attest.”

Alaric cast a guarded glance at Cormac, who was looking pleased.

“I may change my quarters to share with Alaric?”

“You may,” the king replied. “If Alaric also agrees.”

Cormac glanced at Alaric and broke into a grin, echoed by Alaric as he saw that the prince welcomed the move.

“I should like that,” Cormac said. “It will be like having a brother my own age.”

The prediction was not far off the mark. By evening, Cormac had moved his possessions into the apartment Alaric and Llion shared, and immediately proved a lively and companionable roommate. The two had already trained together for several weeks, and found that their physical skills were a good match. Sharing quarters was a logical progression to their friendship. And though the prince's academic abilities were only adequate, he seemed to have an innate ability to interact easily with everyone he met: useful attributes for a spare prince—and also for a future duke in training.

It did not hurt that Cormac had already developed a keen interest in cardounet. Very quickly the prince came to be included in the small circle of boys who accepted Alaric as one of their own, and who played whenever duties and training did not interfere.

Meanwhile, training remained very much their first priority, especially as the weather began to improve. Archery continued to be an obvious skill that could be practiced indoors. Likewise, it was a matter of only a few minutes to move pells into the great hall for sword drill with steel.

When weather permitted, they began riding out again, sometimes for muddy gallops along the river road, sometimes taking to the equally muddy fields, where they mostly avoided jumps or too strenuous riding, for mere practice was not worth risking injury to horse or rider. Sometimes, if the tournament field was not too muddy, they began riding in formation, which Alaric had never done before. He did not find it difficult, but it was a different sort of challenge, though he could see the usefulness of such maneuvers.

Additional new training also was introduced, especially on days when weather kept them indoors. Wrestling had always been a part of the training of both pages and squires, and it was a useful indoor activity for a snowy or rainy day, but after a few weeks the instructors began combining it with hand-to-hand combat, both with bare hands and with blunted daggers.

Pages and squires trained together in the great hall, always well supervised by adult instructors, but pages were never matched against squires, for which Alaric was grateful. His growing skill in this discipline was such that he likely could have given a good account of himself, even with an older and larger opponent, but he was very glad that he would not be matched against Cornelius or some of the other older boys who seemed to share Cornelius's antipathy toward Deryni. That day would come, he knew, but thankfully his instructors were well aware of the need to keep his training closely supervised for the present.

The winter gloom continued, though it was eased briefly, early in February, when Prince Nigel turned fourteen, thus attaining his legal majority: an event celebrated with a family Mass in the chapel royal and a special feast to mark the occasion, when Nigel assumed the rank of a senior squire and also received gifts appropriate to the man he was becoming.

Many of his fellow squires and some of the pages gave him gifts as well. Alaric and Cormac, along with Paget Sullivan and Quillan Pargeter, had commissioned a traveling cardounet set made of leather, like the one owned by Henry Kirby, and presented it privately, as Nigel was heading up to bed.

“You had this made for
me
?” Nigel asked, incredulous as he inspected the gift.

“Well, it
is
your birthday, Highness,” Cormac pointed out. “It was Alaric's idea.”

“I played with one like this several years ago,” Alaric admitted. “I thought you would like it. It's easy to transport.”

“Yes, I can see that,” Nigel replied. “Thank you, gentlemen—all of you.”

Gradually the grey days of winter gave way to spring. Easter that year brought the usual solemnities of the season, culminating in a grand procession down to the cathedral for Easter Mass and, afterward, a visit at last from Alaric's half-sister Alazais, who had traveled in the company of two of the sisters from Arc-en-Ciel. She had brought along the new miniature of Kenneth, already mounted in its locket, but she had shifted the one of his mother inside, so that the two faced one another.

“I hope you don't mind,” she told him, as she handed him the open locket. “But it seems only right that Papa and your mother should be together inside. That leaves the outside very plain, but I thought I could replace it with a new roundel with your arms on it.”

Alaric caught his breath as he gazed upon the pair of them. The two styles were slightly different, but Alazais had captured the very essence of their sire.

“No, this is
wonderful
!” he breathed. “Thank you ever so much! Now the one of Mama won't get damaged.”

Alazais smiled. “I'm so glad you like it. Shall I do up the new piece with your arms on it, for the front? That will also make the locket more wearable, if you choose.”

“Please do!” he said happily. “How long would it take?”

“Oh, not long. I could have it for you the next time I see you.”

In fact, that time would come far sooner than Alaric had anticipated. Though Alazais and her two companions had arrived in time for the festivities of Palm Sunday and the more somber observances of the Passion Week that followed, they had stayed with the sisters down at the cathedral. Alaric had noticed, but not remarked upon the fact, that Llion made himself the personal escort for Alazais and her companions during that week. In light of his previous inquiries about Alazais, Alaric was not surprised when, later that evening, Llion asked Alaric for his sister's hand in marriage.

“You mean you haven't asked her yet?” Alaric retorted.

“Not formally, my lord. I need your blessing first.”

“Good God, I thought I already gave you my blessing.” He cocked his head. “You do think she'll say yes, I hope?”