Childe Morgan cm-2

by Katherine Kurtz

  «Good heavens, I don’t know where I would have put all of them», Alyce said with a laugh. «But I’m very glad you came. Did you only just arrive?»

  «No, we stayed two days with a family in the village», said Iris Jessilde. «Lord Kenneth arranged it — and the goodwife has a lovely garden. Hence, the magnificence of your bridal wreath. ’Tis the perfect complement to your gown», she added, smiling as she cast an approving gaze over Zoë’s sapphire silk. «But then, blue always did suit you, even if the convent did not».

  Zoë returned the smile as she helped Alyce set the wreath on her wheaten hair. «It suited very well, while I was there», she said. «And if I had not come to Arc-en-Ciel, I would never have met you and Cerys — and Alyce».

  «…who has lent you the wearing of the Furstána emeralds, I see», Iris Cerys said with a sly smile, jutting her chin in the direction of the necklace of blue-green fire at Zoë’s throat. «I remember when she wore them for her own marriage».

  «And her mother’s bracelet!» Zoë replied, brandishing the opal and sapphire bangle on one wrist, then hugging Alyce close. «Oh, it’s wonderful to have both of you here», she continued, beaming at the pair of them. «Thank you so much for coming!»

  * * *

  A bridal wreath was not the only gift the two sisters of the Rainbow had brought to Zoë Morgan for her wedding day. When the wedding guests had assembled in the little chapel, the pair accompanied the priest to the altar steps, Iris Cerys nodding reassurance to the nervous bridegroom as she and Iris Jessilde spread a small rainbow carpet on the kneeler where Zoë and Jovett would recite their vows. Withdrawing then to the side of the chapel, they sweetly sang the traditional Ave Vierge Dorée as Zoë Morgan walked down the aisle with her father. The song brought back fond memories both for her and for Alyce, who followed and stood as witness for the bride.

  After the nuptial mass, when bride and groom had made their vows and received the Sacrament, kneeling then on the rainbow carpet for the bridal blessing, Jovett led his bride to the Lady altar, so that the radiant Zoë might offer up her bridal wreath at the feet of the Blessed Virgin — except that, before they turned to leave, Jovett plucked one perfect white rose from the wreath and touched it to his lips.

  «This should be Ahern’s», he whispered, gazing into her eyes as he gave it into her hands. «Let’s lay it on his grave before we leave».

  She could not speak to thank him for the gesture, but she managed to nod before they turned to go. Their steps took them back to the altar steps, and the grave slabs at their feet — Ahern and his father, Keryell, both of them Earls of Lendour in turn. There Zoë and Jovett stood a moment with heads bowed in tribute to Zoë’s first husband, then bent together to lay the rose on the incised letters of Ahern’s name. As they passed on up the aisle and into the little porch of the chapel, they stood aside to let the other guests pass into the yard, and Zoë turned in the circle of Jovett’s arm to press her forehead against his.

  «You loved him, too, didn’t you?» she whispered into his shoulder.

  «I did», Jovett replied. «He and Sé were the closest friends of my youth». He sighed gently. «I had hoped Sé might be here, but…»

  «I know he would wish us joy», she replied, gazing up into his eyes as the guests slipped past them, giving them their moment of privacy. «And thank you for what you did with the rose».

  «It seemed right», he replied, tracing the line of her jaw with his fingertips and lifting a strand of wheaten hair. «What went before…simply was not meant to be».

  «No», she agreed quietly. «But it does no good to grieve over a past that cannot be changed. What matters now is that we have come to love one another».

  He answered the sweet and tender kiss she offered with a passion that startled them both. Jovett was grinning sheepishly as they drew apart.

  «Dearest wife», he murmured, «I think we had best join our wedding guests, lest we scandalize your late beloved — though I like to think he would approve, given the circumstances».

  «I know he would», Zoë agreed, brushing her fingertips tenderly across his lips. Then, with a wistful smile, she touched her fingertips to her own lips and turned to glance back into the chapel where her first love slept, gently blowing him their mutual kiss.

  «Good-bye, dearest Ahern. Sleep gently».

  Hand in hand, then, the two of them departed the chapel to join their wedding guests.

  * * *

  The wedding feast was held in the hall of Cynfyn Castle, as festive an affair as had ever occurred within those walls. To honor his daughter and her new husband, Kenneth invited them to preside from the high table, but Jovett insisted that he and his bride could not usurp that honor, and would only share it with the castle’s rightful lord and lady.

  «While I have just become your goodson, my lord, this is still your hall. Best if we underline that you shall always take precedence here».

  Kenneth was smiling slightly as he nodded. «Well spoken. But you are still the guests of honor here tonight, so you shall sit at my right hand. I trust you’ll not object to that?»

  «I shall try always to carry out your wishes, my lord», Jovett said with a slight bow and a smile — and obediently led his bride in to take their places at the high table, Kenneth and Alyce following in the coronets of their rank.

  It was a modest feast by the standards of the court at Rhemuth, but for the bride and groom, it was a taste of the treatment usually accorded only to royalty. After the first course, young Alaric enticed his younger cousin Duncan into several forays underneath the cloths covering the high table, eventually eliciting Kenneth’s sharp order for Sir Llion to take both boys in charge and divert them to other pursuits in the garden, so that the adults could enjoy their meal in peace.

  Thank you, Alyce mouthed to the young knight, also pointing at her plate. I’ll save you a plate.

  His cheery wave conveyed both understanding and gratitude as he gathered up several more of the younger children and led them out into the castle yard, like a mother hen parading her chicks.

  «We shall have to see about finding Llion a wife», Kenneth murmured to Alyce, as he tucked into his meal again. «Such skill with small boys merits a few sons of his own».

  «What, and lose his services with our own?» Alyce replied. «He is young yet. There will be plenty of time in a few years — and when our Alaric has gained some maturity».

  «You’re right», Kenneth agreed. «I had not thought of that. But do keep the prospect in mind».

  «I shall indeed».

  It was something of an hour later, when the wedding supper was well underway and a troupe of players were offering entertainment, that Kenneth drew his wife’s attention to a dark-clad figure standing quietly in the shadows at the far end of the hall.

  «Look who has finally made an appearance».

  «It’s Sé», Alyce murmured, touching a hand to her husband’s arm. «He did come for Jovett’s wedding».

  «I told you he would — at least for the feast», Kenneth replied, though he smiled as he said it. «He is a good friend of this family, Alyce».

  «He is», she agreed. «Pray, excuse me».

  «Of course».

  As she started toward him, he moved farther into the shadows just inside the doorway, laying a hand across his heart and inclining his head in wordless greeting as she joined him. He was leaner than when last she had seen him, at her son’s christening, shedding weight from a frame already lean and fit, and further refining the high cheekbones, the narrow, aristocratic nose. The close-clipped beard and mustache underlined the new refinement, made him look more lethal. His eyes were still the same startling blue, but with a harder edge.

  Only the white belt of his knighthood relieved the stark simplicity of the ankle-length black robe he wore, fastened at the shoulder in the Eastern manner. A few strands of silver threaded the chestnut hair at the temples and in the braid sleeked back and clubbed at the nape of the neck in an intricate warrior’s knot.


  «Sé», she breathed, only the shhh sound really audible.

  «My lady». He inclined his head again.

  «Kenneth said you would come, but I wasn’t sure», she replied. «You have been long silent».

  He allowed himself a faint smile, a tendril of his thought caressing her mind in something of the old friendship they had shared since childhood.

  «I could not miss Jovett’s wedding», he said.

  «Were you there, or did you only just arrive?» she asked softly. «I did not see you in the chapel».

  Another faint smile curled at the corners of his mouth. «You were otherwise occupied, and I did not mean to be seen. I have learned a great deal since we last met. But did you really think I would not come?»

  «No», she replied, affection lighting her eyes. «You have never, ever failed me».

  «Nor shall I, while I live», he replied, taking her hands to kiss first one, then the other. As he did so, turning his own hands slightly upward, she caught a glimpse of indigo now marking the insides of his wrists: the thumb-sized crosses denoting a fully vowed Knight of the Anvil.

  «You did it», she breathed, holding fast to one of his hands when he would have drawn back, and turning his wrist more toward the light. «So, it’s true, what they say about the Anvillers».

  He smiled and averted his hands, though he closed her hands in his as he gazed into her eyes.

  «And what do they say about the Anvillers?» he murmured.

  «That after making final profession, they are marked at wrists, ankles, and side, as a reminder of Christ’s holy wounds», she replied.

  He inclined his head in agreement. «’Tis true, though propriety constrains me from showing you the others just now».

  «Why, Sir Sé!» she murmured with raised eyebrows, then sobered. «Is it permitted to ask why it is done?»

  «You may ask — and I’ll even answer», he added, to forestall the beginning of her surprise. «Final vows are solemn, and cannot be rescinded. Nor may we ever deny what we are, if asked. These permanent marks remind us of that». He smiled a mirthless smile. «It keeps us honest».

  «More than that, I think», she murmured, smiling a little herself. «The Anvillers are held to be incorruptible. Has it ever happened, that one did not keep faith?»

  «Not in living memory».

  He glanced around — they seemed to be inside a bubble, for all the attention anyone paid them — then returned his gaze to hers.

  «I cannot stay», he murmured. «How is my godson?»

  She smiled. «He flourishes, he grows stronger and more clever with each passing day. Would you like to see him?»

  «I watched him playing in the garden with the other boys», Sé replied. «That young knight who has charge of him: You have a loyal retainer in that one, Alyce. Cherish him».

  She laughed lightly. «’Twas Alaric himself who chose Llion. The two are devoted to one another. Other than you and Jovett, I cannot think of a better mentor and guardian in these early years».

  «In all humility, I shall take that as the compliment I am certain you intended». He lifted one of her hands to kiss it again, then firmly put it from him. «I must go now».

  «So soon?» she protested. «Kenneth would love to see you, I’m sure».

  He shook his head, faintly amused. «It will be enough for him that you saw me. Be well, Alyce, and know that I will always come if you are in need».

  With that, he was gone, almost as if he had simply disappeared, though her mind knew that it was but one of the skills he had learned from the Anvillers: the art of stealth. She was smiling faintly as she made her way back to her husband’s side and took his hand as she settled beside him.

  «Is he well?» Kenneth asked softly, searching her eyes.

  «Aye, he is. A most remarkable man is our Sir Sé».

  * * *

  A little later, when the wedding feast had ended and dusk was settling onto the hills around Cynfyn, the women of the bridal party sang the bride to her bridal chamber, led by Alyce, Vera, and the bride’s sisters. The various aunties and the two sisters from Arc-en-Ciel brought up the rear.

  Inside, the marriage bed had been readied by Alyce’s maids, the bedding made fragrant with herbs, the silken coverlet turned back and the pillows strewn with rose petals. It was the castle’s best chamber, lent to the happy couple by Alyce and Kenneth for the wedding night.

  When Zoë had been divested of her bridal finery and dressed in a new undershift of fine white linen, her wheaten hair loose on her shoulders, the women tucked her up beneath the canopy embroidered with the arms of Lendour and all of them left her save for Alyce, as the strains of another bridal song drifted gradually closer, sung by male voices as the groom’s friends sang him to his bride.

  «They’re coming», Zoë whispered, eyes wide as she reached out to take Alyce’s hand. «Oh, Alyce, I am so happy. Everything has been so beautiful. Thank you so much!»

  «’Tis no more than you deserve, sweet sister», Alyce murmured, leaning down to kiss her lightly on the forehead. «Now take your joy of one another, and forget about anything else».

  Zoë only nodded, though impulsively she seized Alyce’s hand again and briefly drew it nearer to press it to her cheek before releasing it. Alyce, as she withdrew to the door, blew her heart-sister another kiss, then set her hand on the door latch as the song outside finished and there came a soft rap at the door.

  Wordlessly she opened it and stepped aside to admit the eager bridegroom, robed in red and accompanied by his father and Kenneth, who led Jovett to the marriage bed and helped him slide beneath the bedclothes beside his waiting bride. Behind them came the priest who had conducted the wedding ceremony, carrying a small silver bowl of water with a sprig of evergreen protruding from its edge. Beyond him, other men of the party stood in the corridor and into the stairwell, softly singing the final refrain of their song.

  In the stillness that followed, the priest came into the room to pronounce a final blessing and sprinkle bed, bride, and groom with holy water. He then withdrew with Kenneth and Sir Pedur as the men and women joined in a third bridal song, this one weaving the harmonies of the surrounding hills and gradually dying away as the singers dispersed.

  Sweetly moved, Alyce slipped her hand into Kenneth’s as they followed the others back into the hall and Alyce made certain of the accommodations for those staying the night within the castle walls. It seemed to take a very long time. Kenneth, when he had finally seen off the last of his eldest daughter’s wedding guests and bidden his other two daughters a fond good night, drew Alyce with him back up the stairs and then — suddenly — into a shadowed alcove, where he enfolded her in a crushing kiss whose heat quickly stirred both of them to passion.

  «Wife, I have just one question», he whispered, when they surfaced for air.

  «And what question is that?» she managed to breathe. One of his hands was tracing gooseflesh along the base of her throat; the other hand slid down the small of her back to press her closer to his body, where his manhood stirred hard against her thigh.

  «Just this», he murmured, nibbling at her earlobe. «Where is our chamber, now that you’ve given our old one to my daughter and her randy new husband?»

  She started to giggle at that, but he quickly stifled the sound with his mouth, his kiss leaving her weak-kneed.

  «Aye, my lord, don’t do that, or we shall never get there!» she gasped.

  «D’you think I’d take you right here, under the stair, hmmm?» he purred, not relenting as he nuzzled down the side of her neck and along the curve of her breast.

  «Ah, my lord, if it were only that, I should not mind», she assured him breathlessly, «but the gown was expensive, and the floor is none too clean, and — and hard. Not to mention that some of our wedding guests might still be abroad».

  «Then, where is our room?» he demanded, his embrace beginning to lift her right off her feet. «Show me, or I will take you right here!»

  For answer, s
he wrapped her arms around his neck and drew his mouth down to hers again, this time sending her mind into his with the information he desired. Next morning, neither of them would be able to recall precisely how they had gotten from there to the room and the bed made ready for them.

  Chapter 11

  «And some there be, which shall have no memorial; who are perished, as though they had never been; and are become as though they had never been born; and their children after them».[12]

  The family guests who had come from afar to see Zoë wed lingered at Cynfyn for another fortnight, for they had arranged to travel back as far as Rhemuth with Kenneth and his household and guard escort, since it was very nearly time to return to court for the winter season. Though Earl Jared had remained in Culdi to attend to business, he had sent his own Kierney escort of a dozen knights with his wife and son and his aunt Nesta McLain, who was also Kenneth’s sister-in-law. Included in that party were Kenneth’s daughter Geill and her young husband, who was one of Jared’s knights. Kenneth’s two sisters, a single maid, and the two knights of their far more modest household had joined the party when it passed near Morganhall, and were traveling back in the same manner.

  His daughter Alazais was to have returned to court with her father and stepmother to stay through Twelfth Night, but in the days since the wedding she had spent a great deal of time with the two sisters from Arc-en-Ciel, who also were to travel as far as Rhemuth with the Earl of Lendour’s party. Two days before they were to leave for the capital, she announced that she would prefer to spend the next year studying at the convent school.

  «Zoë and Alyce studied there, Papa», she said reasonably. «The finishing would do me good. I did enjoy being at court last season, but it was also…a bit intimidating. And I am not at all certain that I am yet ready to wed».