there was little Lynet could do, and she was content to let Sir Persant and the insipid, giggling Violet entertain her patient while she paced in her tent or tramped across the fields, trying to think of anything but of what might have happened to the dwarf.
But at dinner one night, while Beaumains and his host were enjoying a roast boar, Violet was eating sweetmeats, and Lynet was wishing herself elsewhere, a well-remembered voice at her elbow said, "Never seen you with no appetite, my lady. Figured you'd still be hungry on your deathbed."
It was Roger, dusty and travel-stained, but unhurt. Lynet felt almost faint with relief and managed to whisper, "You're back."
"Ah, but you're as quick-witted as ever," Roger said. "Ay, I'm back."
Lynet leaned close to the dwarf. "You cretin!" she hissed. "You absolutely cloth-headed domnoddy! You witless block! You sap-skulled idiot! You ought to be taken out and beaten with rods! Do you have any idea how foolish this errand of yours was?"
"No, why don't you tell me?" Roger retorted. Lynet glared at him, panting after her outburst, and Roger grinned. "Missed me, did you, lass? Your sister says that she
was
thinking of surrendering to the red chapâodd how you knew thatâbut she'll be happy to wait now and give Beaumains his chance. If you don't want that plate of boar, can I have it?"
"Get your own," Lynet replied, starting hungrily on the food before her.
Roger turned to Beaumains. "I've a message for you, Beau."
Beaumains, who had not noticed Roger's return but who showed no surprise or interest, said, "For me?"
"Ay. The Knight of the Red Lands says to tell you to bring your burial clothes when you come to fight him. He says he doesn't care who you are, even if you're Gawain or Lancelot himself, he'll chop you to pieces and hang you from a tree." Roger paused,
musing, "I don't see that, myself. I mean, will he hang you up first and then chop? Because once you're chopped up, it'll be hard to hangâ"
"Shut up, Roger," Lynet said through a mouthful of food.
"Maybe he'll just hang the bigger pieces."
"Roger," Lynet said dangerously. The dwarf grinned at her, but was silent.
"The Knight of the Red Lands!" exclaimed Sir Persant. "Is that who you mean to fight? Gracious, man! He's a monster! He's a head taller than any other man, and he has seven times the strength of a normal knight! I call him the dimmest knight now living! You mustn't fight him, I tell you!"
Beaumains started to speak, but Roger interrupted. "You know this Red Lands fellow, do you? Not a relative of yours, by any chance?" Sir Persant emphatically denied this, and Roger glanced at Lynet. "I was just curious," he explained, "what with all the colorful armor in the family."
Sir Persant, meanwhile, had renewed his entreaty for Beaumains not to fight Red Lands.
Beaumains stood, his lips firm and his chin high. "It is for that fight alone that I have come this great distance, and I will not show craven, whatsomever say ye! This knight's scorn for the great Sir Lancelot only doubles my resolve to defeat such a recreant! We leave on the morrow!"
"Tomorrow?" gasped Lynet. "You're not well enough yet!"
"I will not take thy womanish counsels!" Beaumains declared grandly. "Dwarf, prepare for the journey!"
"Now see what you've done," Lynet moaned to Roger, who was ignoring Beaumains and helping himself to some pork. "He'll get himself killed!"
"Sorry," Roger said. "You have to admit, though. He's very brave."
"Not brave," Lynet muttered. "Dim!"
Roger grinned again.
Lynet had to wait until the others had gone to bed before she could get Roger's story from him. They sat alone by a fire, a little apart from the tents, and Roger stretched his toes toward the flames and began, "It was easy enough traveling, at firstâ"
"Wait half a moment," Lynet interrupted. "Why did you leave, anyway?"
"You asked me to, didn't
you?
" Roger replied warily.
"Yes, but you said it was crazy, and you were
But at dinner one night, while Beaumains and his host were enjoying a roast boar, Violet was eating sweetmeats, and Lynet was wishing herself elsewhere, a well-remembered voice at her elbow said, "Never seen you with no appetite, my lady. Figured you'd still be hungry on your deathbed."
It was Roger, dusty and travel-stained, but unhurt. Lynet felt almost faint with relief and managed to whisper, "You're back."
"Ah, but you're as quick-witted as ever," Roger said. "Ay, I'm back."
Lynet leaned close to the dwarf. "You cretin!" she hissed. "You absolutely cloth-headed domnoddy! You witless block! You sap-skulled idiot! You ought to be taken out and beaten with rods! Do you have any idea how foolish this errand of yours was?"
"No, why don't you tell me?" Roger retorted. Lynet glared at him, panting after her outburst, and Roger grinned. "Missed me, did you, lass? Your sister says that she
was
thinking of surrendering to the red chapâodd how you knew thatâbut she'll be happy to wait now and give Beaumains his chance. If you don't want that plate of boar, can I have it?"
"Get your own," Lynet replied, starting hungrily on the food before her.
Roger turned to Beaumains. "I've a message for you, Beau."
Beaumains, who had not noticed Roger's return but who showed no surprise or interest, said, "For me?"
"Ay. The Knight of the Red Lands says to tell you to bring your burial clothes when you come to fight him. He says he doesn't care who you are, even if you're Gawain or Lancelot himself, he'll chop you to pieces and hang you from a tree." Roger paused,
musing, "I don't see that, myself. I mean, will he hang you up first and then chop? Because once you're chopped up, it'll be hard to hangâ"
"Shut up, Roger," Lynet said through a mouthful of food.
"Maybe he'll just hang the bigger pieces."
"Roger," Lynet said dangerously. The dwarf grinned at her, but was silent.
"The Knight of the Red Lands!" exclaimed Sir Persant. "Is that who you mean to fight? Gracious, man! He's a monster! He's a head taller than any other man, and he has seven times the strength of a normal knight! I call him the dimmest knight now living! You mustn't fight him, I tell you!"
Beaumains started to speak, but Roger interrupted. "You know this Red Lands fellow, do you? Not a relative of yours, by any chance?" Sir Persant emphatically denied this, and Roger glanced at Lynet. "I was just curious," he explained, "what with all the colorful armor in the family."
Sir Persant, meanwhile, had renewed his entreaty for Beaumains not to fight Red Lands.
Beaumains stood, his lips firm and his chin high. "It is for that fight alone that I have come this great distance, and I will not show craven, whatsomever say ye! This knight's scorn for the great Sir Lancelot only doubles my resolve to defeat such a recreant! We leave on the morrow!"
"Tomorrow?" gasped Lynet. "You're not well enough yet!"
"I will not take thy womanish counsels!" Beaumains declared grandly. "Dwarf, prepare for the journey!"
"Now see what you've done," Lynet moaned to Roger, who was ignoring Beaumains and helping himself to some pork. "He'll get himself killed!"
"Sorry," Roger said. "You have to admit, though. He's very brave."
"Not brave," Lynet muttered. "Dim!"
Roger grinned again.
Lynet had to wait until the others had gone to bed before she could get Roger's story from him. They sat alone by a fire, a little apart from the tents, and Roger stretched his toes toward the flames and began, "It was easy enough traveling, at firstâ"
"Wait half a moment," Lynet interrupted. "Why did you leave, anyway?"
"You asked me to, didn't
you?
" Roger replied warily.
"Yes, but you said it was crazy, and you were
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