Eseld lowered Glander into his arms and the baby smiled up into Glayer’s face. “Good morning, son. Have you had your breakfast, then?”
“It’s past luncheon, my lord,” Eseld said.
“Is that so?” Glayer said, touching a finger to the little chap’s nose. “We don’t care one whit, do we? We do not.”
The tailor cleared his throat timidly, causing Glayer’s smile to falter as he glared at the man for daring to intrude. He continued to scowl until the tailor fidgeted and then at last began gathering up his long lengths of cloth and, giving a hasty bow, scurried toward the door.
“Forgetting something?” Glayer called out after the man and raised his eyebrows as the tailor froze in his tracks and turned back.
“A thousand pardons, my lord,” the man said, dropping to his knees before Glayer. His head bent down and then Glayer felt the twin brushes of the man’s lips on the tops of his feet. He rose and likewise kissed the tiny, gowned impressions of Glander’s feet as well.
“You’re dismissed,” Glayer said with a wave. “Go on and fashion me a suit each in the blue and the red.”
“Certainly, my lord.”
“And I’ll need both complete costumes by the end of the week.”
The tailor hesitated. “Of course, my lord.”
Glayer looked at the man pointedly. “Well?”
“Only waiting for further instruction, my lord.”
“Get out!” he screamed. Glander whimpered in his arms and so he raised his hand up to cup the baby’s ear. “Thatwasloud,” he allowed.
The door to his chamber shut and Eseld took advantage of the privacy to sit in a chair near his small side table. It was a gross liberty, but Glayer let it go. She was allowed some comfort, he supposed. He stroked Glander’s silky hair.
“Preparing for our next visit to the king, my lord?”
“I’d planned for us to travel to court at the end of the week, Nurse, but it will have to be postponed a bit—I’ve been invited to a fête at Jarlswood to be held in my honor.” What an interesting creature this boy was, his son. It didn’t even bother him that the child bore such a close resemblance to his mother. Theodora had been a stunning beauty. “Several lords of no little importance will be in attendance, I’m told.”
“I thought your priority was securing Benningsgate.”
He turned from the baby to glare at Eseld. “Excuse me, but I don’t believe your duties extend to the role of adviser. You’re barely qualified as a nurse.”
The old woman stiffened and turned her eyes away but made no rejoinder.
“There is no race for Benningsgate. No one else can hold such a claim to it as I, although many of our neighbors would love to add the lands to their own. Henry must agree that I am the worthiest of it, considering the obscene amount of money I am willing to pay above its worth.”
“Some may put up a fight,” Eseld warned timidly.
“And that is why it is so important that I make a good impression on my neighbors, dear Nurse,” he said condescendingly. “As young Glander here grows into his birthright, there will be no shortage of allies and those wishing to align with Thurston Hold and the powerful house of Felsteppe.” He bounced Glander again. “Isn’t that right? We shall claim everything as far as our eyes can see, shan’t we? Yes, we shall.”
Eseld’s already thin lips seemed to disappear in her lined face.
“When youleave,” Glayer continued pointedly, “locate Simon and send him to me. I’ve a task for him.”
“He’s still recovering his arm,” the nurse snipped. “You can’t think to—”
“You will do as you’re told!” Glayer roared, the baby in his arms startling and then beginning to cry. Glayer’s face felt afire as he tried to calm himself enough to comfort his son, holding the boy closely on his shoulder and hushing him. He hated for the boy to cry—the sound was piercing and gave Glayer a headache, as well as making the child’s countenance a horror.
“You needn’t fear that I’ll have him rebuilding the sanctuary he’s all but deserted. I’m sending him on a journey.”
Eseld didn’t comment, but Glayer couldn’t keep from telling her the details of the thing. It was brilliant really. A complete coup.
“I’ve found out at last where my enemies have been hiding all these years—under the protection of an abbot at a cloister in Austria. By the time Simon makes the lengthy journey, he should be recovered enough for his task.”
“You’re sending an old priest to kill your enemies?” Eseld asked with a confused frown.
