"Andyour woman?"
"Shedoes as well, yes, my liege." He shrugged in an attempt to look as if hefelt it was no more than a minor inconvenience. "Women ofttimes find ithard to ignore a child in need."
Williamnodded as he nudged his horse to cross the rocky, ice-cold stream. "Thatis their nature and they must be honored for it. If you gathered Norman babesto your breast, then it would be seen as honorable; but these are Saxonchildren or, as some call them, the spawn of our enemy. There are those whobegin to wonder over your kindness to Saxons."
"Iknow. I am confident, however, that those who have the wit to do so will seethat children are no threat." When William gave him a quick, narrow-eyedglance, Drogo prayed he had not gone too far, but knew he had to finish what hehad planned to say. "The worse they can do is eat all my food and leave mepoorer than I am now." He felt relieved when William laughed. "I alsothink that it is not particularly wise to kill too many of the common people.After all, if they are all dead, who will plant the fields come the spring orbuild our homes or tend our animals?"
"Thethought of a knight strapping himself into a plow halter is not a pleasantone," William drawled.
Drogogave an exaggerated shudder. "Not at all."
"Justbe wary, old friend. I see no harm in children or even that young Saxon boy.Others will, if only because you treat them so kindly. Perhaps your years withthe monks gave you a more generous spirit. Do not let that generous nature ofyours put a knife to your throat."
Henodded and watched William rejoin his brother and the closest members of his entourage.Drogo was still trying to decide exactly what William had been trying to saywhen Serle rode up beside him. One look at Serle's frowning face told him thatthe older man had seen him talking to William. That brief conversation hadobviously looked serious from a distance.
"Itwas hard to be certain, for William's expressions change like the weather inthis cursed place, but was that a pleasant talk or a warning?" Serleasked.
"Alittle of both, I believe. William seems to think my years with the monks isthe cause of my soft heart."
"Itdid little to soften Bishop Odo," Serle drawled, nodding toward thearmored churchman riding at William's side.
Drogolaughed, but his good humor did not last long. "I cannot turn asidechildren and boys."
"No,not even if it would be the wisest thing to do, at least until William actuallysits upon the throne of England."
"Iwish I could say that there will be no more fairhaired Saxons added to myentourage, but I have three within my camp who gather all the forlorn to theirbreasts with an ardor I cannot fight, even if I wished to."
"SinceWilliam thinks your kindness is due to your time in the monastery, it might bewise to remind others of it as well. It would be easy enough to make some thinkthat you are more a monk than a warrior." He grinned when Drogo raised hiseyebrows in an expression of exaggerated doubt. "I know that Eada's placein your bed makes you look more sinner than holy man, but I do not think thatwill matter. We both know that not all churchmen hold to their vows ofchastity. They still tend the poor and nurse the ill, however."
"Iknow what you are saying, and it cannot hurt to try and steal some of the stingfrom Sir Guy's lies with such a reminder. It is no lie and I am not really tryingto defend myself when I use it. That I will not do, for I have done nowrong."
"Iknow, son. I just pray that others have the wit to know it, too, and tocontinue to treat Sir Guy's lies with the scorn they deserve."
Nineteen
Tancredlaughed heartily and clapped a grinning Unwin on the back. The good humor theyshared was suddenly lost in shadow as the land they rode over was bathed indankness. Tancred's smile faded, replaced by a look of horrified surprise andpain. Unwin disappeared into a swirl of blood red. Slowly, through the mists,Sir Guy appeared, his scarred face twisted with a gloating smile and his sworddripping with blood.
Eadawoke so abruptly she nearly fell out of the cart. She clutched at the roughwooden sides of the cart and struggled to calm herself. Still badly shaken, butfully awake, she turned to find May staring at her with concern. Eric andWelcome also looked worried and Eada fought hard to give them a comfortingsmile.
"Areyou all right?" asked May, leaning close enough to Eada to whisper so thatthe children could not hear what she said. "You cried out as if you werein pain or very much afraid."
"Itwas that accursed Sir Guy again," Eada replied. "I swear before God,May, that if that man does not cease to darken my thoughts and dreams, I shallkill him myself."
"Ithink you should wait and let a Norman kill him," May said with a falsecalm, her expression of fear contradicting her tone of voice.
Eadalaughed and shook her head. "Poor May. Do not look so terrified. All Ihave at hand is an eating knife and a tiny dagger. I have never hefted a swordeither. No matter how much I want Sir Guy to embrace death, it will not be Iwho sends him there." She smiled when May sagged with relief.
"Whatis Sir Guy going to do now?"
"Ithink he is going to try and commit murder." Eada looked around in a vainattempt to find Tancred and Unwin, but saw only a now-recovered Brun followingclosely in their second cart
"Areyou certain?" pressed May.
"Yes,but I could always just ask him," Eada muttered as she caught sight of SirGuy riding toward them.
"No,please," begged May as Eric and Welcome finally saw Sir Guy and hastilymoved closer to May.
"Apoor jest," Eada said and reached over to pat May's shoulder in an absentgesture of comfort.
