Yesterday's Kings Read Online Free Page B

down to the common room and waited to be served.
    Elvira came to him with a mug of ale and asked what he’d like. He looked at her and thought of Abra, and asked that she bring him whatever was available. He dined on roasted beef and dumplings in thick gravy, and a bowl of vegetables, and then cheese and bread, and still more tankards of ale.
    After, he slept for a while, until Elvira came to him, stripping off her gown as he lay, more than a little drunk on the bed. He watched her, thinking that she was beautiful … but not like the girl—or was she a woman?—he’d seen that day. But Abra was beyond his grasp and Elivira was present: he smiled and welcomed her.
    But all the time he was with her, he thought of Abra.

T WO

    A BRA SAT SULLENLY beside her father in the Great Hall. She was to his left, her stepmother to his right, and Amadis beyond her, whispering in Vanysse’s ear even as Bartram cut into his meat, all smiles and good humor. He seemed unaware of what transpired between his wife and his captain, innocent of their flirtation. Indeed, he raised his goblet to toast the captain.
    “So it was a good hunt, eh? My congratulations, Amadis. And to you, my love.” He ducked his head toward his wife, then turned to Abra. “And did you enjoy it, sweetling?”
    Abra forced a smile and nodded. What could she tell him? What should she tell him? That Amadis was likely Vanysse’s lover? Most folk believed that, and the pair gave every impression that it was so, but her father seemed to accept it. He seemed so besotted with his newbride, and—she was sure—would dismiss her suspicions. So she said, “It was a most interesting hunt, Father.” And smiled piercingly at Amadis. “And our captain was most brave.”
    Bartram nodded solemnly. “I hear that you faced the boar alone, Amadis.” He stroked his graying beard, absentmindedly wiping meat juices from fingers that he then stroked against his shirt. Abra saw Amadis smile, as if her father amused him with his uncouth habits.
    The fair-haired man shrugged negligently. “There were none others present, my lord, and it was not so large a boar.”
    “It was huge,” Vanysse declared. “A veritable monster. Amadis was a hero to slay it alone.”
    Abra winced. Her stepmother gazed adoringly at Amadis; less tolerantly at her older husband. Why, Abra wondered, had her father taken up with this trollop who flaunted her infatuation before him? Were his eyes blinded, could he not see what went on?
    Presumably not, save that he was besotted, or accepted the arrangement. It was, after all, a marriage of convenience: it linked holds, and Vanysse’s dowry had strengthened Lyth’s fortunes. Perhaps that was why he allowed it. Perhaps it was only convenience, and her father the wiser man. Accepting what he gained and willing to share it—her!—with another. Save she remembered, distantly, her mother and father’s devotion, and could not accept Vanysse.
    Lord Bartram beamed approval and raised his goblet. “To my captain,” he announced. “A toast to his courage.”
    Below the high table the soldiery of the keep dutifully raised their mugs. Abra saw Laurens, the master-at-arms, frown as he joined the accolade. “Amadis,” they shouted, but she thought that Laurens’s lips shaped different words.
    She studied his grizzled face, wondering if he shared her dislike of Amadis. He had served her father for as long as she could remember. Indeed, it had been Laurens who first set her on a pony, when her mother was still alive, and taught her to ride. It had been Laurens who first taught her to use a bow, and a boar spear. She was no longer sure how old he was, for he seemed ageless. His hair was as gray as her father’s, but he could still master the younger men in the practice yard, and ride with the best of them. He lacked Amadis’s fine-featured looks—his face was lined and his nose broken askew—but to Abra he was solid as the northern mountains. Trustworthy and