Free A Glimmering Girl by L. K. Rigel Page B

Sarumen’s face came and went so quickly Ross doubted his own eyes. There was no time to ask if he’d somehow given insult, however, for in the next moment he found himself face-to-face with the king of England.
    Ross dropped to one knee before Henry, seated on a raised dais.
    “Your father is baron of Tintagos,” the king said when Ross was on his feet again.
    “He is, sire.”
    “Aethelos is gone, but my daughter Mathilde remains. You understand a smooth succession is imperative to the stability of the realm. Will Lord Tintagos swear allegiance to Mathilde in the event of my death?”
    Ross understood the urgency in Henry’s request. The king could marry again and hope to father another son, but he was an old man. It was unlikely he’d live to see that theoretical son safely come of age. Mathilde was his best hope to ensure continuance of the Normandum House dynasty. But would the barons swear fealty to a woman?
    “I haven’t seen my father in almost four years, and I can’t claim to know what’s in his mind,” Ross answered truthfully. “But he’s an honorable man.”
    “A neat answer, Sir Ross.” Henry crooked a hand at the crush of courtiers.
    The crowd parted, and a man dressed in priest’s robes of fine quality stepped forward. He had the look of a Sarumen. His hair was cut in the traditional tonsured manner meant to be unfashionable and humbling, but the thick black frame enhanced rather than obscured his dark looks—strong cheekbones and jaw, straight nose, and piercing, intelligent eyes.
    “Bishop Quinn will accompany you on your journey home. He’ll present the oath to the baron for his signature.”
    Quinn gave Ross an unctuous nod. He opened his mouth to speak, but the king waved him off, and he blended back into the crowd.
    Ross bowed and retreated from the dais, hoping he was included in the king’s dismissal, but Henry wasn’t finished with him.
    “That’s an interesting sword, Sir Ross.”
    “It’s no beauty, Majesty, but it has served me well,” Ross said.
    “Made of Dumnos steel, I’m told?”
    And there it was. The monarch’s face betrayed the same desire as the captain of the Vengeance had for the scoping glass. Ross keenly felt pressured to make a gift of his sword, and resentment welled within him like bile. He could pretend ignorance, but of course Sarumen had asked him to bring the sword for a reason.
    It would be petty to resist—and what did it matter? Hadn’t he prayed to the gods high and low for peace? Perhaps the sacrifice of his own sword would prove his sincerity.
    “My king.” The words came surprisingly easy. He found that he wanted to give it up—the sword and all it represented. “It would honor my house and all Tintagos if you’d accept this plain and unworthy gift.” When he returned home he’d have the smithy make him a new sword, free of the ghosts of unwanted memories.
    Henry nodded and gestured but never smiled. A page took the weapon away, and as it left Ross’s hand, a sick feeling came over him. Mistake! The word rang in his head. The page added the sword to a pile of other gifts, and the next supplicant was called before the throne.
    Leaving the hall, Sarumen said, “I never thought you’d do it—give up your sword. Not even to a king.”
    The king’s lack of respect for the gift was irritating, and Sarumen’s patronizing, slightly insulting air was worse. Ross felt used. In turning over the sword, he’d felt something in the universe turn. As if he’d been caught up in some dark magic that he didn’t understand.
    “Never mind.” Sarumen put a hand on his shoulder. “Politics is a confounding business. You’re learning.”
    Sun and moon forbid I learn much more.

« Chapter 9 »
In the Glimmering
    T HE RED MONSTER lunged for the goose, who veered sideways and yelled Help! Help! but all that came out was a caustic Hyonke! Hyonke!… ear-splitting and ugly. She had to hide somewhere. If only she could get to the apple grove at