It took two or three repetitions before Laudine grasped all the implications of this new idea, but when she did she was even more enthusiastic than Luneta. "Then everyone will think that I had to marry Ywain, and no one will think that I've been disrespectful to Sir Esclados!"
"Quite true, my lady," Rhience said.
Laudine's face brightened. "Then I can go ahead with the full six months of mourning, just as I ought!" she exclaimed joyously.
Rhience raised one eyebrow, but said only, "You can grieve as long as you want, if that's what will make you happy."
Laudine missed Rhience's irony and sighed with relief. "That was the part that bothered me the most. I just couldn't help feeling that it was wrong not to have the proper time of mourning. Ywain and I can be betrothed now, then married in six months after I've put off my blacks!"
"And I thought it was only men who went into mourning before they got married," Rhience commented.
"My lady," Luneta said, "is this really necessary?"
"I was taught that a proper time of mourning was very necessary," Laudine said primly.
"What a curious expression!" Rhience said thoughtfully. "I wonder what the opposite of 'very necessary' is? Mildly necessary? Somewhat essential?"
"Whatever do you mean?" asked Laudine.
"Shut up, Rhience," said Luneta.
***
Luneta had been afraid that she would have to explain to Laudine a great many awkward details—such as where Ywain had been hidden for the past two weeks—but it appeared that once Laudine had grasped that she could marry the young and handsome knight Ywain and still go through the socially correct time of mourning for her deceased husband, her happiness precluded all other thoughts. She sighed over Ywain's beauty and courtesy for nearly an hour—which Luneta found very tedious indeed—until the footman Rufus entered their room and announced that a host of knights had approached the gate and the knight at the head had asked for her by name. It was Ywain, of course. He had defended the stone and returned to claim his betrothed, and behind him rode a small army of knights from Camelot, including Gawain and Terence.
It was some time before Luneta understood all this, since the next few hours were spent helping Laudine and the castle servants prepare rooms for their illustrious and unexpected guests, but she did finally learn what happened at the Storm Stone. After leaving Laudine and Luneta, Ywain had put on his armor, saddled his horse, and departed through a seldom-used side gate, all without arousing the least suspicion, since he still had the faery ring. Once in the magical copse, Ywain had removed the ring, lowered his visor, and galloped off to challenge whoever had disturbed the stone. Arriving in the clearing, though, he had found not one wandering knight but a host of knights from Camelot.
It was Gawain who told Luneta what happened next, as he and Terence were sitting with Luneta in her room late that evening. "It was Agrivain's own fault, of course," Gawain said. "Back in my chambers that night, when your friend Rhience told about this magical basin, Agrivain had been boasting about how he wanted adventures, too. So, when Kai mentioned the Storm Stone at the next meeting of the Round Table, Agrivain must have felt obligated to back up his words, and he demanded that this adventure be given to him." Gawain grinned ruefully. "Poor Agrivain."
"Why poor?" Luneta asked.
"Letting alone what happened to him at the copse, which is enough, he got much more than he asked for. Nearly everyone at the table wanted to see the magical storm, and the end of it was that nearly a dozen of us came along. I doubt Agrivain really wanted to fight at all, and I'm certain he didn't want to do it in front of a crowd, but he was trapped. When we found the stone, he brought on the storm, then mounted up to wait for a fight while half the Round Table sat around watching.
"A minute later, along comes this knight. We were all expecting an angry, rude fellow like the one Rhience described, but this knight comes into the clearing, stops his horse, and calls out, 'Who disturbed the stone?' Agrivain says, 'I did,' and gets ready to charge, but the knight only explains that these storms are a curse on the land and that he is sworn to protect the land. Then he says, 'If every knight here will take a solemn vow never again to pour water into the magic basin, then we shall have peace between us.'"
"What a sensible thing to do!" Luneta said approvingly.
"Except that it didn't work," Gawain said. "I suppose Agrivain took this as a sign of fear, or maybe he didn't hear what Ywain said."
"He heard," Terence said.
Gawain shrugged. "For whatever reason, Agrivain charged, and Ywain popped him off his horse as neatly as you could wish. Then he dismounted and held his sword to Agrivain's throat. As I said, poor Agrivain."
"Did anyone help Uncle Agrivain?" Luneta asked.
Gawain looked surprised. "No, why would they? It was a fair fight. If anything, Agrivain was the one in the wrong for attacking a knight who was offering terms. Then Ywain asks again for everyone to take a vow to leave the stone alone in the future, and we all promised."
"Even Uncle Agrivain?"
Gawain nodded. "Not, perhaps, very gracefully, but he did it. So then, as the chief knight present, I asked if I might know the name of the knight who had defeated my kinsman, and Ywain put away his sword and without a word slowly loosened his helm, took it off with a flourish, and said, 'Your kinsman, of course.' Very dramatic, our cousin."
"A silly ass, more like," Terence contributed mildly. "He couldn't have done anything that would have more thoroughly embarrassed Agrivain."
"I suppose that's true," Gawain said. " Ywain's young, though. And he had just impressively beaten a knight of the Round Table before everyone he most wished to impress."
"Is Ywain really that good?" Luneta asked.
Gawain nodded. "And more. I don't think I've seen a knight so gifted so young." Then he added loftily, "Barring myself, of course."
Luneta giggled, and Terence closed his eyes wearily. "I wonder if Ywain bashed the wrong relative."
Gawain grinned again. "To be honest, the boy might be able to do it. He's a natural. As I said to him on the way to the castle, he could clean up prizes at any tournament in the country. I was telling him about the Lincoln Tourney that's just been announced. I think all the best knights in the land will be there, and the prize is a crown studded with rubies. He tried to act as if he weren't interested, but I think he is."
Luneta smiled to herself. What Gawain didn't know was that, with her help, Ywain had found something more precious than any tournament prize. Ywain would hardly be attracted by such baubles now that he had won the love of Laudine.
Luneta was wrong. The next time she encountered Ywain, the first words out of his mouth were about the upcoming Lincoln Tourney. "But Ywain," Luneta said reproachfully, "you've just gotten betrothed."
But Ywain was ready for this. "Yes, of course. And if there were any chance of my marrying my dear Laudine at once and settling down with her, I would do it. But haven't you heard Laudine's plan? She wants to put off our wedding for six months, out of respect for Sir Esclados."
"Stuff!" Luneta snapped. "She has no more respect for Sir Esclados than for her horse!"
"Well, out of respect for social conventions, then," Ywain conceded. "And you can't deny that she has a great deal of respect for those."
No, Luneta could not deny that, but she was still unsatisfied. "You can't get engaged to a lady and then trot away the next day."
"Not normally, perhaps. Usually, I'd take her with me, but there's this silly curse about the lord of the castle having to stay right here to guard the stone as long as it might be disturbed. I'm going to be stuck here for the rest of my life once we're married, you know. I need to see the world while I can."
Luneta hadn't thought about that. "Aren't you already the lord of the castle, since you defeated the stone?"
"No, only after I marry Laudine. I checked with everyone, even Laudine, and they agree."
"Laudine agrees?" Luneta repeated. "You mean she's approved this plan?
"
Ywain looked mildly effronted. "You didn't think I would do this without discussing it with Laudine, did you? We love each other, and lovers talk about things like this. She says she has no objections."
Luneta stared at Ywain, then took her cousin by the hand and dragged him off to Laudine's sitting room. "What is this nonsense about Ywain going away?" Luneta demanded of her hostess as soon as they were alone.
Laudine allowed a slight but audible sigh to escape. "But my dear Luneta," she said, "surely you don't expect him to stay here, kicking ... kicking his heels and doing nothing while he waits for the mourning time to be finished."
"There, see?" Ywain said. "Just what I told her."
"I'm well aware that it's just what you told her," Luneta replied with asperity. "Listen to me, Laudine. Don't just repeat what Ywain said to you; tell me what you want."
"But my dear," Laudine said with a trembling smile. "He is to be my husband. I want whatever he wants."
Luneta stared at Laudine, aghast. "Bleah!" she said.
"I beg your pardon?" Laudine asked.
"That's appalling! Don't you have any preferences of your own? Good Gog, if that's how you acted with Sir Esclados, no wonder he treated you like a spaniel! If you will lie down on the doorstep, then you can't be surprised if people wipe their feet on you!"
"I don't know what you're talking about," Laudine said coldly.
"You're going to let my cousin here pledge his love to you, then turn around and ride away? And for six months? Or longer, until he's done playing games? Are you willing to sit here for the next two years, wondering when he'll think of you again?"
"Cousin Luneta!" Ywain said sharply. "I think of Laudine every minute of every day. It is that very thing that makes it such torture to stay here beside the most beautiful woman in the world but unable to claim her for my own! I will count the days until I am permitted to marry my heart, my life, my love—"
"Oh, stow it, Ywain," Luneta interjected. "What about the Storm Stone? Who's going to be here to protect the stone if you're gone?"
But again Ywain was ahead of her. "It should hardly be a problem now that King Arthur's knights have sworn to leave the stone be. And, I've taken the liberty of posting two armed guards by the stone, just to make sure nothing happens." Ywain smiled smugly at Luneta, then knelt at Laudine's feet and took her hand in his own. "You may trust me, my dearest Laudine," Ywain went on. "I shall be back in six months. I vow it, as a pledge of my love for you."
"And I grant you leave to go, my dearest Ywain," Laudine said, her chin lifted proudly. "Your own cousin may not trust you, but I do. Always. Forever."
"Bleah!" Luneta said again.
Luneta didn't give up, but despite her best arguments, Ywain left two days later with the rest of King Arthur's company. He bid a tender goodbye to Laudine, promising to think of her every second and renewing his vow to return before six months had past, and it all would have been extremely moving had Ywain been leaving reluctantly, out of duty, to fight for England or something. Since he was going off by choice, however, for no better reason than to see if he was a better j ouster than the other knights in some tournament, Luneta was easily able to withhold her sympathy.
"It's all so stupid!" she complained to Rhience later that day. "Laudine doesn't want him to go, but she won't admit it. She seems to think it's unladylike to have opinions."
Rhience frowned, as if concentrating very hard, and said, "And you ... wait, don't tell me ... you do have opinions, don't you?"
Luneta rolled her eyes expressively, then set her mouth in a small prim rosebud and said in a little-girl voice, "I really couldn't say. What do you think? Just tell me, and I'll agree with you."
Rhience grinned, but he didn't let the opportunity pass. "I believe that Ywain is actually a French minstrel in disguise, and he left in order to pursue his calling in the county fairs of the north."
Luneta fluttered her eyes and, still in a child's voice, said, "I've often thought so myself!"
"Or else he's a beautiful princess who's under a strange enchantment!"
"How clever you are!" Luneta trilled admiringly.
"Or a three-headed pig."
"Very true!"
"How long can you keep this, ah, ladylike compliance up?" Rhience asked.
"Without vomiting? Not much longer."
"Then I'd better stop. It won't do for you to go comfort the forlorn Laudine if you're already feeling queasy."
Luneta sighed. "She is the most appalling milksop sometimes, isn't she? Has she been asking for me?"
"All morning."
"Why didn't you tell me earlier?"
"I didn't think her request very urgent. Why? Do you think you'll make her feel better?"
"I doubt it," Luneta admitted. "Still, I suppose I'd better get it over with."
Rhience laughed. "What a silly thing to say! As if her need for someone to hold her hand will ever be 'over'!"
"Now, that's not fair," Luneta said. "When has Laudine been anything but kind to you?"
"When she doesn't laugh at my jokes, of course," Rhience replied promptly. "It hurts my feelings."
Luneta lifted her chin and looked down her nose at Rhience. "Perhaps she doesn't laugh because your jokes aren't funny."
"Now you're hurting my feelings, too. I liked you better when you were being ladylike."
"I'm sure you did," Luneta replied. "You should take on Laudine as a challenge. Make her laugh! If you do, then you can truly claim the title of Greatest Fool in England."
"And if I don't?"
Luneta smiled sweetly. "Don't worry, you'll always be the Greatest Fool in England to me." With that, Luneta tripped up the stairs to Laudine's sitting room.
Luneta arrived in Laudine's room to find her hostess propped up in bed on several pillows and attended by three ladies-in-waiting and two manservants—one of them the steward Malvolus—but as soon as Laudine saw Luneta she said reproachfully, "Where have you been?"
"I'm sorry, Laudine. I didn't know that you were asking for me. Was there something you needed?"
"I told that fool that I wanted you, oh, ages ago! I've been expecting you for this hour and more! What can have kept the fellow?" Laudine asked peevishly.
From the shadows at the far side of the room, Malvolus said smoothly, "He is a most undependable knave, my lady. I should not repose any further trust in him, if I were you."
Luneta glared at Malvolus but spoke to Laudine. "I am here now, my lady. How may I help you?"
Laudine sighed. "I just needed someone to be with me. I've lost my betrothed for six long months, and I hardly know what to do."
"You don't know that it will be all of six months," Luneta pointed out. "He may be back as soon as this tournament is over. But as for what to do while you wait, why, I think you should get up and go about your life."
Laudine smiled at Luneta wanly. "Your mother was always very energetic, I remember. You are very like her. I don't suppose either of you has any idea what it is like to be sensitive to atmosphere the way that I am."
Luneta had a vague idea that she had just been insulted, but she wasn't sure how to respond. If being "sensitive to atmosphere" meant lying around feeling sorry for oneself, then Laudine was right: Luneta had never had any patience with such behavior. It was clear from Laudine's tone, though, that she considered it an admirable trait to always have fits of the vapors. For the first time in her memory, Luneta was glad to be like her mother.
Malvolus spoke again. "You are all too delicate, my lady. My late master always told me so. 'Malvolus,' he would say to me, 'you must be gentle with Lady Laudine. She is like a flower that must be given the greatest care.'"
Laudine's eyes grew misty, and she dabbed at them with a cloth.
Malvolus continued. "I assure you that my master—who must have been slain by some treachery, as no knight alive could have beaten him fairly—would never have left you disconsolate as this new knight has done."
Luneta stared at the st
eward. "Why are you trying to turn Laudine against her betrothed husband?" she demanded bluntly.
"Oh, dear," Malvolus replied humbly. "Have I spoken out of turn? It's just that I am still loyal to my late master—as would be anyone who had truly cared for him."
This was so clearly directed at Laudine that even she caught the implication and began to sob. Luneta spoke abruptly to the steward. "Poppycock! Your late master treated Laudine like a stable cur. If she owes him any loyalty, I don't see why."
"I'm sure you don't, my lady," Malvolus said. "Loyalty is not natural to some people, I believe."
Luneta's mouth dropped open, but before she could reply, the door swung ajar and in walked Rhience, carrying an armload of pots and pans and a broom handle and a coil of rope. "Lady Laudine!" he announced grandly, without preamble. "I have come to bring cheer to your heart, to delight your day, to while away your hours, to make you laugh again. I say 'again' because I assume that you have laughed before."
Laudine shook her head sadly. "Not today, fool. I am in no mood for laughter."
"I understand perfectly. You're bilious, aren't you? Well, how could you help but have an upset stomach? Would you like me to remove him?"
"What are you talking about?" Laudine asked.
"Malvolus, of course. He's turned your stomach."
The steward glowered angrily at Rhience, but Laudine answered firmly, "Malvolus has not turned my stomach."
"He hasn't?" Rhience asked in patent astonishment. "Extraordinary! No, really! Look at that hangdog face of his! Hasn't it made you even the least bit queasy?"
"You are not funny, fool," Malvolus said menacingly.
"I must say, it's very curious," Rhience continued, ignoring the steward. "But that's not why I'm here. I've come to engage you with a pantomime."
"A what?" Laudine asked.
"Ah, it's an ancient art," Rhience replied loftily. "I will tell a story, but without words. I will act out a great adventure, and you must guess what story I am telling."
The Lioness and Her Knight Page 9