Henry’s expression clouded.
“You should have offered her as a concubine to him,” said Villam in the tone of a man who has seen the storm coming for hours and is disgusted because his companion refused to take shelter before the rains hit.
“I did! But I don’t trust Wolfhere. She’s his discipla. I’m sure it’s a plot.”
Villam grunted. “Perhaps. But Wolfhere seemed eager enough to remove her from court. On this matter I do not think that your wish and his are far apart.”
“That may be,” admitted the king in a grudging tone. “What am I to do? If I make Sapientia margrave of Eastfall, then she’ll be out of the way, but if I cannot make Sanglant cooperate, see the wisdom of marrying onto the Aostan throne, then what do I do with him?”
“Do not despair yet. I have said before and I say it again: Encourage him in his suit. No lord or lady will follow him if he does not …” He hesitated.
“Speak your mind, Villam! If you do not, then who will?”
Villam’s sigh had as much meaning as any hundred words. “He is half a dog. That everyone whispers it doesn’t make it less true. He must become a man again and, as the philosopher says, young people are at first likely to fall in love with one particular beautiful person and only later observe that the beauty exhibited in one body is one and the same as in any other.”
Henry laughed. “How long did it take you to come to this conclusion, my good friend?”
Villam chuckled. “I am not given up on my study yet. Let the young man make his. He will become more tractable after. Right now he is like to a dog who has sniffed a bitch in heat—he is all madness for her and can’t control himself.”
Alain blushed furiously, and suddenly the king smiled, looking right at him. “Go on, son,” he said genially. “I saw Tallia enter the chapel earlier. That’s where you’ll find her.”
Alain said the correct polite leave-takings, and retreated. The chapel doors yawned invitingly. Inside, he would find Tallia. But the thought of her only made him blush the harder.
She reached the threshold before him, escorted by Lavastine, who smiled to see him coming. Tallia shrank away from Rage and Sorrow, and Alain took her aside, away from the hounds.
“Will you ride out?” he asked, eager to make her happy.
“Nay,” she said faintly. She looked unwell, quite tired and drawn.
“Then we will sit quietly together.”
“Alain.” Lavastine nodded toward the king. “I have already made known my intention to leave tomorrow. It is long past time we return to Lavas.”
Tallia had the look of a cornered deer.
“We’ll rest this evening,” said Alain. “You needn’t attend the feast if you’re unwell.”
“Yes,” she murmured so quietly that he could barely hear her.
He glanced at Lavastine, who gave a bare nod of approval and then went to instruct his servants about the packing. They retired to their chamber, where she prayed for such a long time that Alain, kneeling beside her bodily but not truly in spirit, had finally to stand up because his knees hurt. He ordered a platter of food brought in, but although it was now twilight and she had fasted all day, she ate only some gruel and two crusts of bread. He felt like a glutton beside her.
“What is it like in Lavas?” she asked fearfully. “I’ll be at your mercy.”
“Of course you won’t be at my mercy!” How could she think of him in such an unflattering light? “You are the daughter of Duke Berengar and Duchess Sabella. How can you imagine that I or anyone could take advantage of you when you are born into the royal kin?”
“I am merely a Lion in the king’s chess game, a pawn, nothing more than that,” she said bitterly. “As are you, only you do not see it.”
“We aren’t pawns! God have given us free will.”
“That is not what I meant,” she said with such a sigh that he thought her in pain. “It is the world I wish to be free of. I want only to devote my life to our Holy Mother, who is God, and to pledge myself as a bridge to the blessed Daisan and in this way live a pure life of holy good deeds as did St. Radegundis.”
“She married and bore a child,” he said with sudden anger, stung by her words.
“She was pregnant when Emperor Taillefer died. No one knows what happened to the child. I asked Sister Rosvita, and she says the matter is not mentioned again in the Vita. If our Holy Mother had intended St. Radegundis for earthly glory and a wealth of children, She would have showered her with these riches, since it is easily within Her power to grant something so trivial. She had greater plans for Radegundis, who made of herself a holy vessel for this purpose.”