Or with his actual mother, for that matter.
Thankfully, no response was required.Wethe kept talking as they entered the yard.“The Baroness is more interested in the health of her twins than any grandiose ideas,” Wethe announced.“And more interested in finding that old herb bed than impressing us.”She looked up at Jerrold as she stopped her cart.“Worth noting.”
“So noted,” Jerrold swung down from his saddle as Cirda ran over to take the animals.Cirda gave his father a grin as he took the reins.
Jerrold reached to ruffle his hair and the boy ducked away with a laugh.So like his Ma, long dead in her childbed.She’d been so young; too young.
How the stars had gleamed in her eyes…
“You keep working that leg, you’ll have cramps all night.”Wethe shouted at someone as she eased her bulk from the cart, grabbing two satchels from the back.“I’m going into the kitchen, when you are done with your foolishness.”
Frowning, Jerrold looked over to see Orval wrestling with Yfin, of all things, Roth standing and watching as they each tried to throw the other to the ground.They both had sticks…no, wooden daggers…in their hands.Orval was wearing a scarf, of all things.
What in the name of the Light?Cirda had told him that the Lord High Baron was taking lessons, but it was another thing to see it.
Orval spotted Jerrold.“Jerrold,” he called in greeting, and that was just enough.Yfin got his foot between the man’s legs and threw him to the ground.
The kid helped break Orval’s fall, Jerrold gave the kid that much.But from Orval’s wide eyes, it was clear he wasn’t expecting it.Still, he tucked his chin into his chest and threw out his arms to ease the brunt as he thudded to earth.
Jerrold winced.
Yfin straightened up, breathing hard, as Roth walked over and stood towering above Orval.
“Where was your attention?”Roth asked the prone man.
“Not where it was supposed to be,” Orval wheezed.
“Which allowed?”Roth asked.
“Death to find a way,” Orval groaned.“I know, I know.”He rolled onto his side.
“I’ll give you credit for keeping hold of your weapon,” Roth said with a bit of a grin as he stepped back.“All right, then.Your lesson is over for the day.”He whipped his head around to the watching youngsters.“But not for you lot.Shields up!”Which was met with groans.
Jerrold expected Roth to aid the Lord High Baron to his feet.But neither Yfin or Roth made a move in that direction.Instead, they stepped back, giving him room.
Orval managed it, using the knee of the good leg, then levering himself up in one smooth, clearly practiced move.He was breathing hard, covered in dirt, and sweating, but he was on his feet.
Roth gave him a hard nod, glanced at Jerrold, then gestured to Yfin.“Back to work,” he said.
Orval limped over to Jerrold, brushing the dust off as best he could.“Sorry, but if I don’t get my lesson in, the kids can skip theirs, and I wasn’t going to let that happen.”More groans rose behind him, but Orval just grinned.“Come, let me show you those maps.”He limped toward the kitchen.
The wooden door opened on a bustling scene.Wethe had one babe and the other woman, Rosalind, had the other.Amari greeted her husband with a damp cloth, her eyes crinkled with worry.“I thought you might want to wipe your face,” she said.“Wethe is going to show us where those herb beds might be.”
“I’ll be checking you over first,” Wethe said to Amari, as the little one the healer was holding, the boy, pulled her hair from its bun.
“I want to be there.”Orval wiped at his face.
“Phish,” Wethe said.“No fussy men adding to my work.If there’s something you need to know, Lord, we will tell you.Don’t hover.Scoot.”She actually made a shooing gesture.
“Wait,” Jerrold spoke up.“Before you go, Lady, I’ve a request from Lanning the carpenter.He’s wondering if you’d be willing teach his youngest daughter fancy stitching, in trade for labor.”
“Another pair of hands would be welcome,” Amari looked to Rosalind, who nodded.
“A carpenter?”Rosalind asked.“Could he make a loom?”
“Not sure,” Jerrold admitted.
“Well, regardless, I’d enjoy teaching, if the girl has an honest interest,” Rosalind said.
