Gwenhwyfar_ The White Spirit - Mercedes Lackey [62]
“And I shall be grieved to part from you,” she replied with false sorrow. “Your company, and that of your family, is so wonderful to me. I wish that I could take some part of you with me when I return to my home. My home is so lonely and remote, my husband so often gone, and my boys—are boys, and of little companionship to a poor woman and her sister—” She sighed theatrically, then snapped her fingers. “But I have it! I can help you and ease my own loneliness at the same time, my lord!”
The king looked at her as if she was mad. “Of course, my lady, but—”
She bestowed a dazzling smile on him as Little Gwen looked up with a sharp and avid alertness that made Gwen wary. Whatever was going on, Gwenhwyfach was in it up to her chin. “Oh, King, let me take your youngest to foster with me. A child that young needs a mother, and I so long for a pretty little daughter.” The emphasis she put on the word pretty made Little Gwen preen and Gynath flush and frown. “Only think! Coming to live with us, the child will grow up with my boys, and there are five of them—surely one of them will come to like her, and from liking cleave to her, and then we shall have an alliance of blood as well as borders! And even if that great good does not come to pass, I can teach her as her mother would have, in the maidenly, womanly things she must learn to be a King’s daughter. She will not run wild with me, as she might if she is left to grow without a woman’s hand to guide her. What say you?”
Now there was subtle insult in that, for Gwen, for Bronwyn, for Gynath—but it wasn’t something that a man would note, and it was nothing they could take exception to, though Gwen felt her cheeks growing hot, and Bronwyn looked like thunder. The king looked bewildered, and Little Gwen took advantage of his hesitation. She flung herself down on her knees beside him and clasped her hands around his wrist. “Please, Father! Please!”
This was all leaving Gwen speechless with astonishment, and it seemed the king was just as surprised and unable to think, for the first thing from his mouth were the words, “Well, I suppose—”
Little Gwen flung herself on his neck. “Oh, thank you, Father!” she squealed.
And at that point, of course, there was nothing to do but agree.
Chapter Ten
It had been two full moons since Queen Eleri died and one since Little Gwen had gone off to foster with Queen Morgause. In some ways, nothing had changed. The farmers still toiled in the fields, the herds still needed tending, all the work of the kingdom went on as it had no matter who the king and queen were. Gwen continued to toil at her lessons and chores: the cutting of wood and hauling of water to build strength, practice with bow and wooden sword and blunted spear, with staff and bare hands to make her a warrior, on horseback and in chariot to make her one of the fighting elite, a knight. She added new lessons: tracking and scouting—how to read signs, how to slip undetected across the face of the land, how to spy and not be seen. She was especially good at this last.
And in many ways, everything had changed. The king had emerged from his stupor of grief, but he seldom smiled and never laughed. It was Gynath who supposedly was “The Lady” of the kingdom, though in reality it was Bronwyn who made all the decisions and advised Gynath what orders to give. The evenings in the castle were quiet times, with the king withdrawing immediately after dinner to discuss whatever needed to be discussed with his chiefs and then going to bed. There were no more long evenings of drinking and tale spinning at the king’s hearth. Gwen knew, of course, that such things were still going on, but it was at an improvised hearth, between the stables and the practice grounds. She had not been set to serve there at first; her teachers had let others take her place, but she supposed that now they thought enough time had passed, and it was time for her to do her duties again. And it wasn’t as if there were anything happening there in the evenings