Dragonblade Trilogy - 01 - Dragonblade Read Online Free Page B

picked up her good arm and hit her
daughter in the shoulder.
    “Where have you been?”
she slurred. “I have been calling for you. Why did you not answer me?”
    “We have guests for
dinner, mother,” Toby didn’t rub her shoulder; she would not let her mother see
that she had hurt her. “I had to see to supper.”
    Judith slapped her
hand on the bed, drool running down the left side her face. “Supper for me, do
you hear? Bring it to me now!”
    Toby didn’t argue with
her; she didn’t want to be near her mother, much less engaged in a futile
conversation with her. She turned around to leave the room when Judith picked
up a small pewter bowl and threw it at her, striking her on the top of her left
shoulder. It stung deeply, but still, Toby didn’t let on. She continued out of
the room.
    Ailsa was standing by
the door, wide-eyed. “Bring her supper,” Toby finally took the time, out of her
mother’s sight, to rub her back. “Make sure all of the plates are removed this
time. And do not get too close. Her mood is foul this eve.”
    “She hit you again?”
    Toby didn’t answer
her; the back-rubbing was enough. Smoothing her dress and saying a silent
prayer that the meal downstairs progressed without incident, she descended the
stairs into the hall below.
    Sparks from the hearth
had caught some of the rushes in the hall on fire; consequently, the hall was
smokier than usual. Toby entered the room, curtsying to the men whose attention
turned to her.
    “Good eve, Father,”
she said. Then she looked at Tate. “My lord.”
    “Ah, Toby,” her father
greeted her, his normal chalice of wine in hand. “I was showing Sir Tate our
humble farm.”
    Tate stood near the
fire; there had been a slight mist outside and he raked his fingers through his
hair to dry it in the heat. His eyes lingered on Toby in her emerald surcoat.
    “This farm is anything
but humble,” he said. “The size and structure is impressive.”
    “You may thank me for
the size and my daughter for the structure,” Balin said. “Were it not for Toby,
this would still be but a mediocre working farm, struggling to support a
village.”
    More wine and ale were
brought to the table. Tate had been accompanied by his entourage of men; the
knights stood and drank their ale while the men at arms stood on either side of
the front door in a defensive position. The squire sat on a small stool near
the hearth, drying his thin body out.
    “It is good to see a
community that can support itself,” Tate said. “There is so much poverty in the
north that the peasants resort to stealing and begging to live. I have had a
good deal of trouble with it on my lands.”
    Toby moved to pour
herself some mulled wine. “Do you also not think, my lord, that the wars of the
crown have created such poverty?”
    “They do.”
    “Yet still you support
another uprising.”
    Tate knew this moment would
come; he just did not think it would come so soon.  He turned fully to Toby, a
radiant vision in the ambient light of the fire. The sight of her caused the
harsh response on his tongue to ease. It was difficult to become angry with
such beauty.
    “I would not consider
Edward’s right an uprising, mistress,” his voice was steady. “Do you deny the
rightful king his entitlement?”
    “Of course not. But is
there not a more peaceful way?”
    “If you have any
suggestions, you have my full attention.”
    Toby wasn’t a military
expert by any means. Her gaze trailed to the two enormous knights standing near
the hearth; their expressions were harsh and she did not like the feeling
radiating from them. The men at arms were far enough away that they probably
had not heard the conversation, but the squire was looking at her as if he had
something to say to all of it. She almost wished she hadn’t spoken out; too
many times she would speak before thinking. This was one of those times.
    “It would seem to me
that the Queen would willingly relinquish the right to rule to her