Childe Morgan cm-2 Read online

  But spring came at last, along with the celebrations of Easter. Shortly thereafter, as soon as travel conditions would allow it, a delegation from Lendour arrived in Rhemuth to escort their new earl and his family back to Cynfyn, Lendour’s capital, where Kenneth Morgan would enter into possession of his lands and present his son and heir to their people. His daughter Zoë traveled with them, as female companion for Alyce and governess for young Alaric, along with two maids and several grooms.

  The king had also given Kenneth the service of the newly knighted Sir Trevor Udaut as his aide, for Trevor’s father was one of Corwyn’s regents. And the two knighted by Kenneth at Twelfth Night had returned with the escort party: Sir Yves de Tremelan and Sir Xander of Torrylin. But by far the most congenial of the fighting men added to the new earl’s party was the leader of the Lendour delegation, Sir Jovett Chandos, who managed to spend most of the journey at Zoë’s side, and who, on the morning they were to arrive in Cynfyn, finally summoned the courage to approach Kenneth on a very delicate matter.

  «My lord, might we ride apart a little?» he murmured, drawing alongside Kenneth, who was riding with his wife. «There is a matter I would discuss with you in private».

  «By all means, go», Alyce said before Kenneth could reply. «I shall ride on ahead with Zoë and the other ladies». And be gentle with him, darling Kenneth, she added, only in his mind. I believe he means to ask for Zoë’s hand.

  «We’ll catch you up», Kenneth agreed, reining back and indicating that Jovett should fall in beside him. They waited for the rest to pass them by, then followed at the rear of the cavalcade, several horse-lengths behind the last baggage animals.

  «So, what’s on your mind, Jovett?» Kenneth asked amiably.

  The young knight looked distinctly nervous, though his voice was steady as he spoke.

  «My lord, I hope that I am in your esteem, and that you have found no fault with my service to Lendour. It has been my honor to serve your lady wife, and I am honored to be now in your service as well».

  «And I, to have you in my service», Kenneth replied, restraining a smile as he watched him sidelong.

  «Thank you, my lord. I… ah…»

  «Are you looking for a way to ask me for my daughter’s hand?» Kenneth asked gently. «You needn’t look so surprised, son — or so apprehensive. Alyce told me you might be asking — and my daughter has made it quite clear to me that she holds you in great affection».

  Jovett gaped briefly at this revelation, scarlet briefly washing his cheeks with high color.

  «I — am right pleased to hear it, sir», he began. «I had intended to ask for her when we came for Twelfth Night. But when you were named earl…»

  «Does that change your feelings for her?» Kenneth asked.

  «No, sir, not at all!» Jovett blurted, faintly rattled. «But I am only a knight’s son, and now she…»

  «Now, she is the daughter of an earl — an earl who would still be a simple knight, were it not for his wife’s rank», Kenneth reminded the younger man. «I know where I come from, Jovett. I am of no more lofty a family than you are. Do you love her?»

  «With all my heart, my lord!» Jovett whispered. «And I promise you that I would do my utmost to make for her a worthy and loving husband».

  «Then it’s settled», Kenneth replied. «What more could a father ask, than that his children should be happy? Besides that», he added, «such a marriage would bring practical advantages that probably will not have occurred to you». He went on at Jovett’s look of question. «I am now Earl of Lendour, Jovett, but I am also in the king’s direct service. That means that I needs will be spending much of my time at court with him and Prince Brion. Accordingly, I will need men in Lendour whom I can trust. Who better than the husband of my own beloved daughter?»

  Jovett looked dumbfounded for a moment, then shyly averted his gaze. «My lord, I am honored by your confidence in me», he replied, «but I am also young. Surely there are others better qualif…»

  «More experienced, perhaps, but few with more promise», Kenneth said firmly. «And inexperience can be remedied. I know you, Jovett. And I know that your father has been serving as one of Lendour’s regents for many years — perhaps most of his career. I should like you to serve alongside him, as his deputy and eventual successor. And in my absence, it will be entirely fitting that my son-in-law should begin to speak in my behalf. A strong bond of loyalty already exists between our two families. Joining them by marriage can only strengthen that bond».

  «Then — we have your consent, sir?» Jovett managed to murmur.

  «Of course you do, with all my blessings!» Kenneth replied. «Now, go to my daughter and tell her your news — though this will set her and my wife all atwitter for the rest of the journey, and then for weeks thereafter. Go, go! ’Tis a woman’s prerogative».

  With a whoop of sheer delight, Jovett set heels to his mount and galloped up to the head of the column, where Zoë was riding with Alyce and the two maids. Kenneth himself followed at a more sedate pace, finally falling in beside a young knight with little Alaric up on the saddle before him.

  «Papa!» said the boy, reaching out one arm toward his sire.

  «Hello, son. Trevor, I’ll take him with me now», he said to the younger man, reaching across to swing Alaric onto his own mount.

  Delighted, the boy settled happily against his father’s chest and sat a little prouder. He had even managed to stay clean since setting out that morning. As Kenneth slowly worked them toward the head of the column, the two chatted happily.

  The party approached Cynfyn just before dusk, with a glorious scarlet sunset in their wake. Perhaps half an hour before, they had stopped briefly for Alyce to wash her face and hands and tidy her hair before she and Kenneth donned coronets for their entry into the town. Jovett had moved to the head of the column with Sir Xander and Sir Yves, unfurling the Lendour banner before them.

  Jovett’s father, Sir Pedur Chandos, met them just outside the town gates, along with the seneschal, Sir Deinol Hartmann, half a dozen other mounted knights, and a contingent of the town elders afoot.

  «Welcome back to Castle Cynfyn, Lady Alyce», Sir Deinol said, bowing in his saddle. «And welcome to the new Lord of Lendour and his heir». With a nod, he sent forth a page standing at his stirrup, who bore a large ring of keys upon a scarlet cushion. «Sir Kenneth, it is my honor to offer you the keys to His Majesty’s castle of Cynfyn».

  The page cast a curious look at young Alaric as he came forward and bowed, offering up his charge, and Alaric gazed down with similar interest. But as Kenneth laid a gloved hand on the keys in acceptance, Alaric reached out as one with his sire and firmly grasped the ring, lifting it slightly and looking up at his father in question.

  «Thank you, Alaric. And thank you, my lord seneschal», Kenneth replied with a smile, nodding for Alaric to put the keys back. «And my son and I are most pleased to return the keys of Cynfyn into your good keeping. I am even more pleased to present to you your future lord, Alaric Anthony Morgan», he went on, as Alaric dutifully replaced the keys.

  The waiting knights saluted with bowed heads and fists to hearts, eyeing both father and son with obvious approval, before Sir Deinol wheeled around to fall in beside Kenneth.

  «Cynfyn is ready to receive you, my lord — and my lady. Long have we awaited the return of Lendour’s heir».

  Their reception into Cynfyn town and then through the gate to the lower ward was enthusiastic, with cheering townsfolk lining the street and casting flowers before them as they rode. Several of the women thrust bunches of posies into Alyce’s hands as she and Kenneth passed, and others looped flower garlands around the necks of their horses. One small boy darted out to offer Alaric a crudely carved figure of a horse, which gift elicited a delighted grin and an unprompted thank you.

  That night, at the banquet prepared for their welcome, Kenneth and Alyce made more formal presentation of their son to the assembled nobles, then received the renewed fealty of all the L
endour knights who had not sworn before. A little later, Kenneth announced the betrothal of his daughter Zoë to Sir Jovett Chandos, to a roar of approval that fairly shook the rafters of the hall.

  «My wife and I thank you for this evidence of your welcome of this match», Kenneth said, when the cheering had died down. «As the father of three daughters, only one of whom is wed, I must confess my delight that a second — and the eldest! — is now to be wed as well. I shall miss her, of course — as shall my wife, for the two are dearest friends as well as being related in…complicated ways». He drew both women closer and laid an arm around each one’s shoulders, signing for Jovett to join them on Zoë’s other side.

  «This brings us to a somewhat delicate matter, one that I know will have occurred to at least a few of you. Most of you will be aware that, but for cruel fortune, Zoë would have been your countess, by marriage to my dear wife’s late brother Ahern — and in fact, the two exchanged vows as Ahern lay on his deathbed». He paused to draw his daughter closer and gently kiss the top of her head.

  «Ahern’s untimely death was a tragedy for all of us, but life goes on. I am now your earl; and very happily, my daughter has come to care for your Jovett Chandos, whom she had known for some years as Alyce’s childhood friend as well as a young knight of rising prominence here in Lendour — and Jovett, likewise, has given his heart to her. So I count myself fortunate that I shall be acquiring a son known and respected by you all, and who can help to look after Lendour’s interests when I must be in Rhemuth with the king.

  «Meanwhile, I congratulate Sir Deinol and Sir Pedur and the rest of Lendour’s regents here in Cynfyn for training up such a fine cadre of young knights to carry Lendour’s interests forward. I am confident that Jovett will continue to be an asset to their numbers — and would, even if he were not to become my son-in-law, for he is a good and honorable man. And when my son is of an age to come into his inheritance — by which time I hope to retire to a quiet life in the country! — I know that he, too, will follow in the footsteps of his illustrious ancestors, and in the traditions that all of you have helped to uphold while you waited for him».

  The response of Lendour’s nobility, both then and in the days to come, only underlined their approval, both of their new lord and his heir and also of this new alliance with one of Lendour’s premier families. Though tradition would have had Zoë marry from her father’s manor at Morganhall, among her Morgan kin, it was agreed that the wedding should take place in Cynfyn, among Jovett’s people, where Kenneth also was lord, since the pair would make their home there. The date was set for Michaelmas, to be Alaric’s third birthday, following the family’s visit to Coroth, for Kenneth and Alyce must first present their son to his future Corwyn subjects.

  Given this schedule, they lingered hardly a week in Cynfyn, while Kenneth held the first of his manorial courts and general audiences, met with the regency council to agree upon general strategies for the coming months, and generally acquainted himself with the running of the county, Jovett and Trevor at his side. While they worked, Alyce and Zoë began planning a wedding.

  «The castle chapel is the logical place to hold it», Alyce said as she closed the chapel door behind them and leaned against it. Beside her, Zoë was carrying a basket of flowers and sweet herbs for the two grave slabs before the altar steps. Alaric had already wandered ahead and was exploring the south wall, where a painted wooden statue of St. Michael gazed down serenely from a wall niche, wings furled around him like a mantle, gauntleted hands at rest on the hilt of a sword worked in gold and silver. The last time the two women had visited Cynfyn, it had been to bury Ahern, and Alaric had not yet been born.

  «I had forgotten the stillness and the beauty of this place», Zoë murmured.

  «Aye», Alyce replied, «but ’tis a terrible beauty, considering who lies buried here. I would certainly understand if you’d prefer a different venue. Perhaps it isn’t the best idea, to begin a new marriage while standing on the grave of one’s first husband».

  Zoë glanced away briefly, looking wistful, then slipped an arm around Alyce’s waist.

  «That’s long past now», she whispered. «I try not to think about it. I did love him, but he was never really my husband except in name. There wasn’t time for more». She brightened and lifted her chin bravely. «I do know that he would have wanted me to be happy».

  She picked up a stem of lavender and breathed in its sweet perfume, then shifted her gaze to the grave slabs before the altar. «I try to put it from my mind that he lies in that grave yonder. For me, I shall always remember him as he was on that day he rode off to Meara, eager and excited to finally be doing what he was born to do, when life was simpler for all of us».

  «Aye, it was», Alyce murmured. «And if Ahern had lived, he would now be Duke of Corwyn, with your son to succeed him rather than mine — which would be simpler for me, I’ll grant you — and for Alaric. But then your son would be facing what Alaric will face, in times to come».

  Zoë glanced at Alaric, who had wandered closer to the end of the chapel, then back at Alyce, a sly smile curving her lips.

  «Alyce, if I’m marrying Jovett, my children will all be facing what Alaric is facing, won’t they? After all, they’ll also be half-Deryni».

  Chuckling, Alyce only shook her head.

  «Be glad that very few people know about Jovett», she replied. «And we must do our utmost to ensure that no one finds out, mustn’t we?» She glanced at her son, who now was attempting to climb the altar rail next to the statue of St. Michael. «Alaric, darling, please don’t do that!» she called, as she and Zoë started in that direction. «Come and help me and Auntie Zoë with these flowers, would you?»

  Stopping in midclimb, the boy obediently swung his leg back down and came to join his mother and sister.

  «Mama, can I have a flower for Saint Michael?» he asked.

  «Yes, of course you can», she replied, holding the basket down to his level. «What kind do you think he’d like?»

  «Maybe a rose», he said, starting to finger through the blooms. «This big red one is — ow! It has big, sharp thorns!»

  Zoë cocked her head at him and reached for his hand. «Gracious, did you stab yourself?»

  Somewhat indignantly, the boy pulled back his hand and sucked briefly at a finger, then reached for the same flower again.

  «Alaric, you just saw that that one has thorns», his mother said reasonably. «How about this peony? See what a fluffy head it has?»

  «No, want the rose!» the boy said firmly, though his touch was more careful as he picked it up. «Saint Michael likes roses! The thorns are sharp like his sword!»

  «I can’t argue that», Alyce murmured, as he took off at a run toward the statue of the saint. «Zoë, did we just hear what I think we heard?»

  «That he made the connection between the sharpness of swords and of rose thorns?» Zoë answered. «I believe he did. And not yet three».

  Alyce only rolled her eyes heavenward as she knelt down beside the graves of her father and brother, taking flowers from the basket. «Dear God, what we both have to look forward to», she murmured, and laid a handful of lavender and rosemary on the grave of Keryell of Lendour. «Here’s rosemary for remembrance, Papa», she said. «And roses from your grandson, who already knows about sharp thorns and sharp swords». She sighed as she laid three white roses amid the fragrant herbs. «I wish you could have known him».

  As she bowed her head in a brief prayer, Zoë quietly took more flowers from the basket and laid them on Ahern’s grave.

  «Dear Ahern», she whispered. «Wish me joy, dear heart».

  Chapter 7

  «Without counsel purposes are disappointed: but in the multitude of counsellors they are established».[8]

  They left for Coroth two days later, arriving just before Midsummer. Jovett accompanied them, to continue learning his new duties as Kenneth’s official liaison.

  A ducal honor guard met them in the long, slanting light of late after
noon as they wound their way down from the foothills above the city, and escorted them into the city through the St. Matthew Gate. From there, growing crowds watched them ride past the cathedral and on up to the castle itself, increasingly enthusiastic as the identity of the party became known.

  It had been seven years since Alyce’s last visit to Coroth: a time remembered with wistful sadness, since it had been there that she bore her sister’s body for burial, laying her to rest among the remains of most of Corwyn’s past dukes and ducal wives. Zoë had accompanied her on that journey; Kenneth had been present in the king’s party, but with no inkling that he would one day be the father of Corwyn’s heir. Now Lendour’s banner rode beside that of Corwyn, announcing the arrival both of Lendour’s new lord, who was also one of Corwyn’s regents, and of Corwyn’s young heir. Alaric perched happily on the saddle in front of his father, smiling and waving in response to the crowd.

  By the time they rode into the castle yard, most of the regents of Corwyn had gathered on the great hall steps to greet them. Sir James of Tendal, the hereditary chancellor, welcomed them on behalf of his fellow regents and made perfunctory introductions. All of the names were familiar, from years of correspondence with the regents; now faces could be attached to some of those names. The most memorable was Sir Laurenz Udaut, whose resemblance to his son Trevor was unmistakable. It was he who, with his son, conducted the guests to their apartments and offered them refreshment. Since no formal arrangements had been set for the evening of their arrival, the weary newcomers then retired early, to ready themselves for business in the morning.

  The next morning was time for Kenneth to make the more formal acquaintance of the regents of Corwyn. A middle-aged courtier identifying himself as Sir Crescence de Naverie conducted Kenneth and his immediate family down to the great hall to break their fast, chatting of inconsequentials to the adults while they ate and watching young Alaric sidelong as the boy tucked into buttered bread smeared with honey, a cold leg of chicken, which he brandished like a club until curbed by a look from his mother, and a cup of small beer. After that, they repaired to the airy tower chamber where the dukes of Corwyn had long carried out the business of the duchy.