“but I see no haste to marry; and Luciella says, fifteen is too young to settle down; she would as soon not have us betrothed till we are seventeen or more. One does not breed a good bitch in her first heat.”
“Oh, Romilly,” Darissa said, blushing, and they giggled together like children.
“Well, enjoy the dancing while you can, for your dancing days will be over soon,” Darissa said. “Look, there is Darren’s friend from the monastery - he looks like a monk in his dark suit; is he one of the brethren, then?”
Romilly shook her head. “I know not who he is, only that he is a friend of Darren’s and of the Castamir clan,” she said, and kept her suspicions to herself. Darissa said, “Castamir is a Hastur clan! I wonder he will come here freely - they held by the old king, I heard. Does your father hold to Carolin, or support the new king?”
“I do not think Father knows or cares, one king or another,” said Romilly, but before she could say more, Alderic stood beside them.
“Mistress Romilly? It is a set dance - will you partner me?”
“Do you mind being left alone, Darissa?”
“No, there is Cathal; I will ask him to fetch me a glass of wine,” Darissa said, and Romilly let Alderic draw her into the forming set, six couples - although one of them was Rael and Jessamy Storn who was eleven, and half a head taller than her partner. They faced one another, and Darren and Jeralda Storn, at the head of the line, led off, taking hands, circling each couple in the complex figures of the dance. When it came Alderic’s turn she reached confidently for his hands; they were square, hard and warm, not the soft hands of a scholar at all, but calloused and strong like a swordsman’s. An unlikely monk, indeed, she thought, and put her mind to the intricacies of the dance, which at the end of the figure put her opposite Darren, and then opposite her brother Rael. When the set brought her briefly into partnership, crossing hands and circling with Cinhil, he squeezed her hand and smiled, but she cast her eyes down and did not return the smile. So Lord Scathfell thought to marry her to Cinhil this year, so she could be fat and swollen with baby after baby like Darissa? Not likely! Some day, she supposed, she would have to be married, but not to this raw boy, if she could help it! Her father was not so much in awe of the Aldaran Lords as that, and besides, it was only Aldaran of Scathfell, not Aldaran of Castle Aldaran. Scathfell was the richest and most influential of their neighbors, but The MacAran had been an independent landholder since, she had heard, before the raising of Caer Donn city!
Now the set brought her face to face with Dom Garris again. He smiled at her and pressed her hand too, and she blushed, holding her own hands cold and stiff against his, just touching as the dance required. She was relieved when the set brought them back to their original places, with Alderic facing her. The musicians swung into a couple-dance, and she saw Dom Garris start toward her purposefully; she grabbed at Alderic’s sleeve and whispered, “Will you ask me to dance, Dom Alderic?”
“To be sure,” he said, smiling, and led her out. She said after a moment, returning his smile as they left Garris staring after them, “You are not a clodhopper at all.”
“No?” He laughed. “It has been long since I danced, save with the monks.”
“You dance in the monastery?”
“Sometimes. To keep warm. And there is a sacred dance at some of the services. And some of the students who are not to be of the brethren go into the village and dance at Festival, though I-” it seemed to her that he hesitated a moment, “I had small leisure for that”
“They keep you so hard at your studies? Domna Luciella said that Darren looks thin and pale - do they give you enough to eat, and warm clothes?”
He nodded. “I am used enough to hardships,” he said, and fell silent, while Romilly enjoyed the dance, the music. He
“Oh, Romilly,” Darissa said, blushing, and they giggled together like children.
“Well, enjoy the dancing while you can, for your dancing days will be over soon,” Darissa said. “Look, there is Darren’s friend from the monastery - he looks like a monk in his dark suit; is he one of the brethren, then?”
Romilly shook her head. “I know not who he is, only that he is a friend of Darren’s and of the Castamir clan,” she said, and kept her suspicions to herself. Darissa said, “Castamir is a Hastur clan! I wonder he will come here freely - they held by the old king, I heard. Does your father hold to Carolin, or support the new king?”
“I do not think Father knows or cares, one king or another,” said Romilly, but before she could say more, Alderic stood beside them.
“Mistress Romilly? It is a set dance - will you partner me?”
“Do you mind being left alone, Darissa?”
“No, there is Cathal; I will ask him to fetch me a glass of wine,” Darissa said, and Romilly let Alderic draw her into the forming set, six couples - although one of them was Rael and Jessamy Storn who was eleven, and half a head taller than her partner. They faced one another, and Darren and Jeralda Storn, at the head of the line, led off, taking hands, circling each couple in the complex figures of the dance. When it came Alderic’s turn she reached confidently for his hands; they were square, hard and warm, not the soft hands of a scholar at all, but calloused and strong like a swordsman’s. An unlikely monk, indeed, she thought, and put her mind to the intricacies of the dance, which at the end of the figure put her opposite Darren, and then opposite her brother Rael. When the set brought her briefly into partnership, crossing hands and circling with Cinhil, he squeezed her hand and smiled, but she cast her eyes down and did not return the smile. So Lord Scathfell thought to marry her to Cinhil this year, so she could be fat and swollen with baby after baby like Darissa? Not likely! Some day, she supposed, she would have to be married, but not to this raw boy, if she could help it! Her father was not so much in awe of the Aldaran Lords as that, and besides, it was only Aldaran of Scathfell, not Aldaran of Castle Aldaran. Scathfell was the richest and most influential of their neighbors, but The MacAran had been an independent landholder since, she had heard, before the raising of Caer Donn city!
Now the set brought her face to face with Dom Garris again. He smiled at her and pressed her hand too, and she blushed, holding her own hands cold and stiff against his, just touching as the dance required. She was relieved when the set brought them back to their original places, with Alderic facing her. The musicians swung into a couple-dance, and she saw Dom Garris start toward her purposefully; she grabbed at Alderic’s sleeve and whispered, “Will you ask me to dance, Dom Alderic?”
“To be sure,” he said, smiling, and led her out. She said after a moment, returning his smile as they left Garris staring after them, “You are not a clodhopper at all.”
“No?” He laughed. “It has been long since I danced, save with the monks.”
“You dance in the monastery?”
“Sometimes. To keep warm. And there is a sacred dance at some of the services. And some of the students who are not to be of the brethren go into the village and dance at Festival, though I-” it seemed to her that he hesitated a moment, “I had small leisure for that”
“They keep you so hard at your studies? Domna Luciella said that Darren looks thin and pale - do they give you enough to eat, and warm clothes?”
He nodded. “I am used enough to hardships,” he said, and fell silent, while Romilly enjoyed the dance, the music. He
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