“I will be twenty-threethis autumn.How old are you?”
“I turned thirty lastmonth.I thought we were to talk about you?”
“We are, are we not?Is itagainst the king’s law for us to talk about you aswell?”
“No.”Apparently, shewasn’t going to let Talon’s professed fealty to the king’s laws go,and he didn’t want to keep hearing about it for the next twelvedays, which was when the next Mallus would be held.A specialhearing to decide her case.That was the answer sent by NithardMidered, Count of Oloron and magistrate to the province, in answerto the message Talon sent him this morning.The same count whosename had made Lara pale and the old healer break into the clerics’Latin and make plans to help Lara escape and send her into hidingat a place called the Hollow.
The second son of a landed nobleman,Talon had been meant for the church and had studied under the monksfrom the age of twelve to sixteen, when he’d run away from themonastery, stole his father’s favorite horse, and spent the nexttwo years making his way competing in riding tournaments.It was ata tournament in Tours that he’d caught the king’s attention, andwhen Charles found out Talon knew how to speak, read, and write notonly in the Frank language, but in Latin as well, he’d made him aroyal courier.The youngest ever.
He’d heard and understood every wordspoken between Sophie and Lara and had only acted ignorant anduninterested.Even if he hadn’t known what they were saying, hewouldn’t have let Lara go to the bathing house.He’d bathed theredaily since being garrisoned here.He knew of the westward windowfacing the river, as he knew she would shimmy out of it beforegetting so much as a toe wet.Still, he was impressed that she’dseriously considered it.The high ladies of court would’ve simplysat on his bed and cried, trying to win his sympathies.Or tried toget him into bed and then demand his favor for theirs.Not Lara.She was as different from the ladies at court as a wildcat to ahouse kitten, and he was curious as to her breeding.
“What is Sophie toyou?”
“She’s raised me since Iwas a swaddling babe abandoned at the gate of the Abbey St.Marie.”
“You’re an orphan?”Andlikely a bastard.
“I am.”
“How did Sophie come toraise you?”
“The Abbot Rogert askedher to.”
Talon clamped down on his grin.“Imeant why Sophie and not a childless couple or a family withchildren?”
“You would have to ask theabbot.”
This time Talon didn’t try to hide hisgrin.In truth, he was glad she had wit as well as beauty.Yet asmuch as he was enjoying their game, there were questions he wantedanswered.
“I sent word to CountNithard today,” he told her.“He sent word back that he’ll hold aspecial Mallus in twelve days to rule on your and Fulrad’scase.”
She sat still, all but for her eyes,which flashed gold, then narrowed.“The count is all obligingpoliteness.”
“So it wouldseem.”
She crossed her arms and glared atTalon.“How is Fulrad?”she finally asked.“I haven’t heard sincethis morning.”
“He lives and seems to beresting easier.”
She nodded and let out a ragged sigh.“What, exactly, are his injuries?I forgot to ask Sophie earlier,and she didn’t tell me.”
Because they were too busy discussingTalon and the count and how to get her free of here.“His knee isgone, the bone shattered, his shoulder out of joint, and the fourholes from Wolf’s fangs in his throat are stillseeping.”
She pressed her lips together andlooked ready to cry, whether for Fulrad or herself, Talon couldn’ttell.
“Sophie says he’ll likelyspeak again,” he offered.
“And you will be there tohear him.”
“I will.”
She blinked, her hazel eyesglistening.Even distraught and on the verge of tears, she satstiff and proud: cursed beautiful.Which brought him to his nextquestion.
“Should I be expecting anychallengers at my gate?”
She shook her head, sending a waft ofspicy sweet fragrance his way.“There will be no challengers comingto fight for me.”
“Are all the men in thisvalley blind fools, then?”he blurted out, confounded by theperfumed air he breathed in.“Or do your thorns keep them fromtrying for the prize?”
