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“Brecc,” he said. “I wish that you would call me Brecc.”

“Brecc.” She offered him a hesitant smile. “I should very much like to hear your memories of my father. Mayhap we can speak again before we each return to our homes.”

“It shall be done.” He inclined his head and took two steps back. “But now, you had best remove yourself from this inclement weather.”

“Yes.” She turned to reach for the door handle, but before she could grasp it, the door swung open.

“Aisley! Wherever have you been?”

Brecc studied the elegant woman standing in the doorway. Ealdorman Kendryek’s wife had changed very little in six years. Her resemblance to her youngest daughter—who was currently standing at her elbow—was even more striking now that Diera was no longer a child. They both wore an air of refinement, but neither exhibited the aura of gentle kindness he recognized in Aisley.

“Good evening, Mother.”

“Diera told me you raced out of your room hours ago carrying a goodly portion of the herbs we brought with us.”

There was no hiding the accusation in the older woman’s tone, but whether it was over Aisley’s use of their precious herbs or her unexplained absence, Brecc could not tell.

“Someone in the castle was in need, and so I—”

“I am quite sure somebody in the king’s household could have sent for a healer. You are a guest here. There was no call for you to become involved.”

“That is true, Mistress Edla.” Brecc stepped out of the shadows. “But your daughter was good enough to offer her assistance regardless.”

“Ealdorman Brecc.” Aisley’s mother and sister dropped into hasty curtsies. It seemed that Kendryek’s widow recalled who he was. So much the better. “Forgive me,” she continued. “I did not see you there.”

“I consider it a fortuitous meeting,” he said. “I had hoped to express my thanks to you for sharing your knowledge of the healing arts with Aisley. You taught her well.”

Mistress Edla appeared to stand a little taller. “Even as a child, she learned quickly.”

Brecc was quite sure that was true. He was equally sure that Aisley’s gift had been nurtured by a compassionate heart rather than merely an ability to memorize by rote. Now was not the time to make that distinction, however. If Aisley was to avoid her mother’s censure, this was the time to appeal to the lady’s vanity. “You have much to be proud of, Mistress Edla,” he said. “Aisley’s skills and timely intervention likely saved the life of one of the king’s thegns. I daresay the king himself will wish to thank you when he hears of it.”

At their next meeting, Aisley might accuse him of exaggeration, but Brecc was not beyond using either that or flattery. Besides, three hours ago, Rheged had certainly acted as though he were inching dangerously close to death. And King Alfred had always looked upon Rheged fondly. The monarch would surely be glad to know that his faithful warrior had recovered from so sudden and violent an illness.

“I am very glad to hear it.” If Mistress Edla had been standing before a looking glass, she might have been accused of preening. Straightening her shoulders, she smoothed her hands down her dark-green gown and gave Aisley a pointed look. “If the king intends to single you out, Aisley, you had best be dressed appropriately. And as the banquet begins within the hour, you have no time to waste.”

Aisley’s mother had offered him the perfect reason to take his leave, and yet Brecc hesitated. Had he done enough to prevent Mistress Edla from putting Aisley through an inquisition after he was gone? He glanced at the young lady standing before her mother and sister. Her head was high, her expression composed.

“I am quite sure the king will be far more interested in the welfare of his warrior than on my choice of attire,” Aisley said, “but if he should happen to speak to me, I shall be sure to tell him who guided me through the healing arts.”

Mistress Edla tucked her arm through Aisley’s. “I daresay he would be most interested to know such details.”

Brecc smiled into the rapidly deepening darkness. It appeared that Aisley had picked up on his ploy to deflect interest from Rheged by appealing to her mother’s conceit, and she was willing to utilize it herself. Mentally adding perceptive to Aisley’s growing list of admirable qualities, he retreated another step. “If you will excuse me, ladies, I, too, had best prepare for the banquet.”

“Of course.” Mistress Edla inclined her head. “Good evening to you, Ealdorman Brecc.”

“Ealdorman Brecc,” Diera echoed, dropping into a small curtsy.

With her movement restricted by the position of her mother’s arm, Aisley simply offered him a small smile. “Good evening, sire.”

He bowed and turned away. If he hastened, he might have time to speak with the king or his adviser before the banquet began. A word in King Alfred’s ear about Aisley’s efforts this day might not be a bad thing after all.

CHAPTER 8

AISLEY HAD NEVER SEEN SO large a great hall nor so many people gathered in one place. Long tables laden with food and drink lined the perimeter of the room. Benches filled to capacity with the king’s guests ran along both sides of all the tables except the one at the head of the room. There, King Alfred, his wife, and his closest thegns sat with an unobstructed view of the reveling visitors.

Wulfhere was seated at the far end of the head table. It was a position of honor, and he had claimed it with gratification. If he had been disappointed that he was too far removed from the king to engage in a private conversation, he was currently hiding the emotion well. He and the thegn seated at his left appeared to be in great spirits, their reddened cheeks and loud laughter hinting at rather too many goblets of ale.

For her part, Aisley was glad that she, Diera, and their mother were seated on the other side of the room. It made it far easier to quietly observe those around her without feeling that she, too, was on display. Her gaze drifted past the glowing fire in the center of the room to the musicians who were slowly circling it and then—inevitably—to Brecc. He and Ealdorman Ormod, who was seated at his left, exchanged a few words. Brecc nodded at something the king’s adviser said and speared a piece of meat in the trencher before him with his dagger. Raising the piece of venison to his mouth, he looked out across the room, and his eyes met hers.