Mallina was still chattering to the young men.
“And the folk from Storn Heights are coming, and the sons and daughters of Aldaran of Scathfell, and all during the Midsummer-festival there will be parties and hawkings and hunts, and a great Midsummer-dance-” and she slanted her long-lashed eyes at Alderic and said, “Are you fond of dancing, dom Alderic?”
“I have done but little dancing since I was a child,” said Alderic, “I have danced only the clodhopper-dances of the monks and novices when they dance together at midwinter – but I shall expect you to teach them to me, damisela.” He bowed to her and to Romilly, but Mallina said, “Oh, Romilly will not dance with men – she is more at home in the stables, and would rather show you her hawks and hounds!”
“Mallina, go to your lessons,” said Luciella, in a voice that clearly said, I’ll deal with you later, young lady. “You must forgive her, dom Alderic, she is only a spiteful child.”
Mallina burst into tears and ran out of the room, but Alderic smiled at Romilly and said, “I too feel more at ease in the company of hawks and horses than that of women. I believe one of the horses we brought from Nevarsin is yours?”
“It belonged to-” Darren caught his father’s scowl and amended, “a relative of ours; he left it in Nevarsin to be returned to us.” But Romilly intercepted the glance that passed between Darren and Alderic and knew that her brother had confided the whole story to his friend. How far, she wondered, had that scandal spread, that the son of The MacAran had quarreled with his family and fled to a Tower?
“Romilly,” said her father, “should you not be in the schoolroom with Mistress Callinda?”
“You promised me a holiday on my birthday,” Romilly reminded her stepmother, and Luciella said with an ill grace, “Well, as I have promised – I suppose you want to spend the time with your brother. Go, then, if you wish.”
She smiled at her brother and said, “I would like to show you my new verrin hawk.”
“Romilly trained it herself,” Rael burst out, while her father frowned. “When Davin was sick. She waited up all night until it would feed, and the hawkmaster said that father could not have done better himself.”
“Aye,” The MacAran said roughly, “your sister has done what you would not do, boy – you should take lessons from her in skill and courage! Would that she had been the boy, and you the maiden, so that you might put skirts about your knees and spend the day in scribbling and embroidering within the house-”
Darren flushed to the roots of his hair. He said, “Do not mock me before my friend, Father. I will do as well as I am able, I pledge to you. But I am as the Gods made me, and no other. A rabbithorn cannot be a war-horse and will only become a laughing-stock if he should try.”
“Is that what they have taught you among the damned monks?”
“They taught me that what I am, I am,” said Darren, and Romilly saw the glint of tears in his eyes, “and yet, Father, I am here at your will, to do my poor best for you.” Romilly could hear, as plain as if the forbidden name had been spoken, it is not my fault that I am not Ruyven, nor was it my doing that he went from here.
The MacAran set his massive jaw, and Romilly knew that he, too, heard the forbidden words. He said, scowling, ‘Take your brother to the hawk-house, Romy, and show him your hawk; perhaps it will shame him into striving to equal what a girl can do.”
Darren opened his mouth to speak, but Romilly nudged him in the ribs, as if to say, Let us go while we can, before he says worse. Darren said, muffled, “Come along, Alderic, unless hawks weary you,” and Alderic, saying something courteous and noncommittal, bowed to The MacAran and to Lady Luciella and went with diem down the stairs.
For the last few days Preciosa had been placed on her block among the already-trained hawks; moving quietly, Romilly slid gauntlet on wrist and took up the bird, then returned to the two young men.