The Lioness and Her Knight (12 page)

But again Ywain was ahead of her. "It should hardly be a problem now that King Arthur's knights have sworn to leave the stone be. And, I've taken the liberty of posting two armed guards by the stone, just to make sure nothing happens." Ywain smiled smugly at Luneta, then knelt at Laudine's feet and took her hand in his own. "You may trust me, my dearest Laudine," Ywain went on. "I shall be back in six months. I vow it, as a pledge of my love for you."

"And I grant you leave to go, my dearest Ywain," Laudine said, her chin lifted proudly. "Your own cousin may not trust you, but I do. Always. Forever."

"Bleah!" Luneta said again.

Luneta didn't give up, but despite her best arguments, Ywain left two days later with the rest of King Arthur's company. He bid a tender goodbye to Laudine, promising to think of her every second and renewing his vow to return before six months had past, and it all would have been extremely moving had Ywain been leaving reluctantly, out of duty, to fight for England or something. Since he was going off by choice, however, for no better reason than to see if he was a better j ouster than the other knights in some tournament, Luneta was easily able to withhold her sympathy.

"It's all so stupid!" she complained to Rhience later that day. "Laudine doesn't want him to go, but she won't admit it. She seems to think it's unladylike to have opinions."

Rhience frowned, as if concentrating very hard, and said, "And you ... wait, don't tell me ... you
do
have opinions, don't you?"

Luneta rolled her eyes expressively, then set her mouth in a small prim rosebud and said in a little-girl voice, "I really couldn't say. What do
you
think? Just tell me, and I'll agree with you."

Rhience grinned, but he didn't let the opportunity pass. "I believe that Ywain is actually a French minstrel in disguise, and he left in order to pursue his calling in the county fairs of the north."

Luneta fluttered her eyes and, still in a child's voice, said, "I've often thought so myself!"

"Or else he's a beautiful princess who's under a strange enchantment!"

"How clever you are!" Luneta trilled admiringly.

"Or a three-headed pig."

"Very true!"

"How long can you keep this, ah, ladylike compliance up?" Rhience asked.

"Without vomiting? Not much longer."

"Then I'd better stop. It won't do for you to go comfort the forlorn Laudine if you're already feeling queasy."

Luneta sighed. "She
is
the most appalling milksop sometimes, isn't she? Has she been asking for me?"

"All morning."

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"I didn't think her request very urgent. Why? Do
you
think you'll make her feel better?"

"I doubt it," Luneta admitted. "Still, I suppose I'd better get it over with."

Rhience laughed. "What a silly thing to say! As if her need for someone to hold her hand will ever be 'over'!"

"Now, that's not fair," Luneta said. "When has Laudine been anything but kind to you?"

"When she doesn't laugh at my jokes, of course," Rhience replied promptly. "It hurts my feelings."

Luneta lifted her chin and looked down her nose at Rhience. "Perhaps she doesn't laugh because your jokes aren't funny."

"Now you're hurting my feelings, too. I liked you better when you were being ladylike."

"I'm sure you did," Luneta replied. "You should take on Laudine as a challenge. Make her laugh! If you do, then you can truly claim the title of Greatest Fool in England."

"And if I don't?"

Luneta smiled sweetly. "Don't worry, you'll always be the Greatest Fool in England to me." With that, Luneta tripped up the stairs to Laudine's sitting room.

Luneta arrived in Laudine's room to find her hostess propped up in bed on several pillows and attended by three ladies-in-waiting and two manservants—one of them the steward Malvolus—but as soon as Laudine saw Luneta she said reproachfully, "Where have you been?"

"I'm sorry, Laudine. I didn't know that you were asking for me. Was there something you needed?"

"I told that fool that I wanted you, oh, ages ago! I've been expecting you for this hour and more! What can have kept the fellow?" Laudine asked peevishly.

From the shadows at the far side of the room, Malvolus said smoothly, "He is a most undependable knave, my lady. I should not repose any further trust in him, if I were you."

Luneta glared at Malvolus but spoke to Laudine. "I am here now, my lady. How may I help you?"

Laudine sighed. "I just needed someone to be with me. I've lost my betrothed for six long months, and I hardly know what to do."

"You don't know that it will be all of six months," Luneta pointed out. "He may be back as soon as this tournament is over. But as for what to do while you wait, why, I think you should get up and go about your life."

Laudine smiled at Luneta wanly. "Your mother was always very energetic, I remember. You are very like her. I don't suppose either of you has any idea what it is like to be sensitive to atmosphere the way that I am."

Luneta had a vague idea that she had just been insulted, but she wasn't sure how to respond. If being "sensitive to atmosphere" meant lying around feeling sorry for oneself, then Laudine was right: Luneta had never had any patience with such behavior. It was clear from Laudine's tone, though, that she considered it an admirable trait to always have fits of the vapors. For the first time in her memory, Luneta was glad to be like her mother.

Malvolus spoke again. "You are all too delicate, my lady. My late master always told me so. 'Malvolus,' he would say to me, 'you must be gentle with Lady Laudine. She is like a flower that must be given the greatest care.'"

Laudine's eyes grew misty, and she dabbed at them with a cloth.

Malvolus continued. "I assure you that my master—who must have been slain by some treachery, as no knight alive could have beaten him fairly—would never have left you disconsolate as this new knight has done."

Luneta stared at the steward. "Why are you trying to turn Laudine against her betrothed husband?" she demanded bluntly.

"Oh, dear," Malvolus replied humbly. "Have I spoken out of turn? It's just that I am still loyal to my late master—as would be anyone who had
truly
cared for him."

This was so clearly directed at Laudine that even she caught the implication and began to sob. Luneta spoke abruptly to the steward. "Poppycock! Your late master treated Laudine like a stable cur. If she owes him any loyalty, I don't see why."

"I'm sure you don't, my lady," Malvolus said. "Loyalty is not natural to some people, I believe."

Luneta's mouth dropped open, but before she could reply, the door swung ajar and in walked Rhience, carrying an armload of pots and pans and a broom handle and a coil of rope. "Lady Laudine!" he announced grandly, without preamble. "I have come to bring cheer to your heart, to delight your day, to while away your hours, to make you laugh again. I say 'again' because I assume that you
have
laughed before."

Laudine shook her head sadly. "Not today, fool. I am in no mood for laughter."

"I understand perfectly. You're bilious, aren't you? Well, how could you help but have an upset stomach? Would you like me to remove him?"

"What are you talking about?" Laudine asked.

"Malvolus, of course. He's turned your stomach."

The steward glowered angrily at Rhience, but Laudine answered firmly, "Malvolus has
not
turned my stomach."

"He hasn't?" Rhience asked in patent astonishment. "Extraordinary! No, really! Look at that hangdog face of his! Hasn't it made you even the least bit queasy?"

"You are not funny, fool," Malvolus said menacingly.

"I must say, it's very curious," Rhience continued, ignoring the steward. "But that's not why I'm here. I've come to engage you with a pantomime."

"A what?" Laudine asked.

"Ah, it's an ancient art," Rhience replied loftily. "I will tell a story, but without words. I will act out a great adventure, and you must guess what story I am telling."

Laudine looked mildly interested, but she said only, "I don't know many stories. What if I don't recognize it?"

"You shall have to ask your ladies and Luneta and, er, this fine steward to help you," Rhience said, and immediately he launched into his act.

He began by walking about in a very feminine way, fanning himself and arranging his hair. Laudine already looked lost. "Whatever is he doing?" she asked.

"I believe he's supposed to be a beautiful lady," Luneta said.

Rhience nodded and immediately took the hand of one of the ladies-in-waiting and drew her into his act. Placing her before the imaginary mirror where he had been primping a moment before, Rhience drew back behind a wardrobe and watched the lady closely, a malevolent sneer on his lips.

"Oh, what is he doing now?"

"He's someone else, now, my lady," said one of the other ladies-in-waiting.

"Ooh!" chimed in the third one. "He's a wicked man who wants the beautiful lady!"

Rhience nodded again, then stepped out of his hiding place, holding an imaginary tray in one hand. He walked very stiffly over to the lady he had selected and, bowing deeply, pretended to serve her some wine, then strutted back to his corner.

Luneta couldn't help sneaking a glance at Malvolus, who was glaring at Rhience with a seething fury. Rhience's peculiar walk was exaggerated, but Luneta had no trouble recognizing the steward's pompous gait. The ladies all smothered giggles, and the other manservant cleared his throat in an awkward attempt to hide a laugh. Only Laudine appeared not to know whom Rhience was imitating.

Now Rhience, still in character as Malvolus, walked back to the wall and began preening himself before yet another pretend mirror, but this time he preened for much longer than he had when he had been the lady. He posed before the mirror and flexed his muscles and pretended to pluck hairs from his nostrils until the ladies-in-waiting were nearly bursting their seams from laughing. Luneta gathered that Malvolus had a reputation for vanity among the servants.

Then Rhience cupped his hand to his ear, listening to something, then began shaking as if he were in an earthquake. The shaking stopped, then began again, then stopped. Rhience raised one finger in the air and assumed a cunning expression. Immediately he leaped over to the pile of kitchenware and rope that he had brought with him. For the next few minutes, the ladies laughed helplessly while Rhience tied bits of crockery to his legs and put an iron pot on his head as if it were a helm.

Luneta glanced nervously at Malvolus. Rhience was obviously aping Malvolus's mismatched suit of armor, and Luneta was afraid that he was going too far. Now Rhience drew his broom handle and began to strut about practicing swordplay with it, but since his cooking pot helm kept falling over his eyes and he kept running into walls, this display only had the servants laughing harder. Now even the other manservant was roaring with laughter, no longer paying the slightest heed to Malvolus's furious glares.

"Whatever is he doing?" Laudine asked. She alone was not laughing but was staring at Rhience with the consternation of one watching a madman.

"I'm sure I couldn't say," Luneta replied.

But this question gave Malvolus the chance he needed. Stepping between Laudine and Rhience, he asked suavely, "Is this barren fool annoying you, my lady? Shall I remove him?"

"But I don't know what story he's presenting," Laudine said.

Malvolus gave the ladies a quelling glare. "Nor does anyone else, my lady. I shall take him away with me now, as there is some business that I must attend to anyway."

Rhience walked into a wardrobe with a crash, then removed the pot from his head. "Wait," he said. "I hadn't gotten to the part where the brave knight of the silly armor tries to seduce the beautiful lady while her betrothed is away."

Malvolus's self-control snapped. "I've heard enough!" he roared. "I will endure this no more! Choose your weapons! I shall fight you in the courtyard!"

The room grew still. Rhience looked amused, but he shook his head. "My dear fellow, nothing would give me more pleasure than to knock you around a bit, but I can't.

"Afraid?" Malvolus demanded.

"Disappointed, actually. You see, I've given my word not to take up arms against another man for another ten months or so."

Malvolus's face suddenly lit up with triumph. "Of course! You're the knight my master defeated on the Fool's New Year! He told me about the vow he forced you to make! He thought it was a grand joke!" Rhience bowed in mute acknowledgment, and Malvolus let out a sneering laugh. "Come with me, fool. You're bothering the ladies." Then the steward took Rhience firmly by the arm and led him away.

"Was it one of the stories of Aesop?" Laudine asked. She never had laughed.

Rhience was gone. When Luneta went to look for him later that day, he was nowhere to be found. His small room in the servants' quarters was empty, and no one could tell her anything about him. Finally she checked the stables, and his saddle and gear and great white horse were not there. She was staring at the empty stall for a moment, feeling curiously alone, when a voice spoke behind her.

"If you're looking for your foolish friend," came the smooth, triumphant voice of Malvolus, "I am desolated to tell you that he's gone. For good, I'd say. He ran off like a frightened cur because I told him to leave."

"Frightened?" Luneta replied scornfully. "Of you? I don't believe it."

The steward glanced significantly at the empty stall and said, "Then why, I wonder, is he gone?" With that, Malvolus strutted away, leaving Luneta to her thoughts.

These were bleak. Even if Malvolus was lying about the reason for Rhience's departure, it was obvious that he had gone, and without bidding her goodbye. Luneta remembered something he had said the day they arrived at Laudine's castle:
I'm free to leave when I want.
After all, she admitted, it was true. No one at Laudine's castle had any claim on him.

Life at Laudine's manor was less enjoyable without Rhience, and for all she had protested at the time, Luneta came to realize that Rhience had been right about one thing. Laudine was caring and pleasant and even smiled sometimes, but the one thing that she didn't do was laugh. And, with Malvolus ruling the castle more firmly with every passing day, there were precious few others who would laugh either. Luneta's life would have been dreary indeed if it hadn't been for her lessons.