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“There’s a remedy for that,” said the other one. He took a step toward me, and the next thing I knew he’d hit me across the face so hard that I saw stars floating in blackness. My knees buckled, and I grabbed on to the table to stay upright.
“Now go and present yourself to Baron Joachim,” he said.
I put my hand to my stinging cheek. “I won’t,” I whispered.
“You damn well will.” He raised his hand to strike me again.
But he couldn’t see what I could, or else he would’ve run. The baron had left his table, and his face was full of rage as he came toward us, his hand on the hilt of his sword.
“I don’t have to go to him,” I said. “Because he’s right there behind you.”
CHAPTER 45
The guard’s eyes widened as I began to back away, uncertain as to which of us had drawn the baron’s anger. Before the guard could turn around, the baron struck him with the flat of his sword and he stumbled sideways, nearly falling into the fire. After catching himself against the stones of the hearth, he stood up as straight as he could. Then he bowed his head and bent his knee.
“Forgive me, your lordship,” he gasped. His left cheek was already swelling and turning purple.
The baron’s green-gold eyes shone with anger. “We do not strike those smaller and weaker than we are,” he said. Then he turned to me and his expression softened. “Well, we do, of course, when they require it. But during a celebration,never.”
With a flick of his wrist he dismissed the guard, who slunk away into the corner, where someone handed him a mug of wine, which he downed in one gulp, staring blackly at me.
The baron held out his arm—I supposed I was meant to take it—but I looked at it as if it were a snake. “I have nothing to celebrate.”
He raised an eyebrow. “How about your life?” he asked. “It was nearly lost on more than one occasion, including the very attack we just repelled. As far as I can tell, it is thanks to me that you arestill in possession of it, however miserable it seems to have been for you so far.”
“And is it not thanks to me that a legion of farmers and swineherds helped you repel the attack? It was certainly thanks to you that my life was in danger in the first place,” I said. “Or have you forgotten that you nearly had me hanged, and then you threw me in a dungeon?”
His expression clouded for a moment, but then he offered me the smallest of smiles. “Let’s talk of happier things,” he said. He had dropped his arm, seeing that I wouldn’t take it, but I felt his fingers close about my elbow. Slowly but forcefully, he steered me toward his table at the head of the great hall. I was still dizzy from the guard’s blow, and the sea of men blurred and swam as we moved.
“Here,” he said, pulling out a carved and painted chair right next to his. “Sit.”
I sank into it—not because I wanted to, but because I needed to. I could taste blood in my mouth and my right ear was ringing.
A servingman placed a goblet of wine in front of me, while another set down meat and potatoes on a trencher of thick-sliced bread. I stared mutely down at the fatty, glistening meat. There was more of it right now, for me alone, than my whole family had had in our lives.
The baron held out a gilded bowl, intricately fashioned in the shape of a boat. It was full of a fine, crystalline powder. “Salt,” he said.
It didn’t look anything like the hard gray blocks of it we got in our village. Again my mouth watered. But I declined the salt and pushed the trencher away. “I’m not hungry,” I said.
The baron withdrew the golden boat with a shrug. “Well, have a little wine,” he said. “And then perhaps you will sing a song for us. I’m told you have a beautiful voice.”
“I won’t sing,” I said.
“You’re very impertinent,” he said, looking at me with surprise.
I was pleased to confound him like that. “A fine dress doesn’t give me fine manners,” I said.
“Obviously not,” he said.
I picked up the glass of wine, sniffed it, and put it down again, just to aggravate him.
“Sing,” he said. “The men would like to hear it.”
“The men are drunk, and they’re telling tales of fighting and wenching,” I said. “I wouldn’t presume to interrupt them.”
I could see his hands tightening on the arms of his chair.
No doubt he’s beginning to question his rule about hitting someone smaller and weaker than he is.
