Free Lady Knight by L J Baker Page B

beside her brother, Guy. The comparison would
be a revealing one. For certès, Guy dressed more flamboyantly. Riannon’s drab
tunic and overtunic only reached her knees and showed sombre hose. Even the
brooch that had fastened the mantle she wore earlier was plain. Function, rather
than style, dominated her attire. It accurately reflected her character –
substance rather than surface.
    “You could be forgiven for thinking Robert imparted gravest news to my cousin of
Gast,” Aveline said. “Looking at her, one might think our way barred on the
morrow by flood, brigands, dragons, or war.”
    “I’d wager that even were such terrors in store, madam,” Eleanor said, “the Lady
Riannon would remain undaunted.”
    “You probably have the right of it.” Aveline smiled. “It seems, though, that,
unlike yourself, my marshal hasn’t the secret of making my grim cousin smile.”
    “Sir Robert doesn’t seem the sort to have a light tongue,” Eleanor said, “nor
the inclinations to amusing, inconsequential chatter.”
    “I had not thought my cousin had, either,” Aveline said. “I’ve been wondering
about her preferences. It seems I need to be more observant.”
    Eleanor returned a polite smile and wondered what Aveline’s real meaning was.
When, a little later, Eleanor rose to join Riannon sitting at a window seat, she
was conscious of Aveline watching her.
    Riannon would have risen, but Eleanor waved her down. Eleanor sat and took the
chessboard and box of pieces from the page. She began setting the game up on the
seat between them.
    “It is the duty of a knight, is it not, to protect the weak,” Eleanor said, “and
rescue defenceless widows from boredom?”
    Riannon smiled. “I must have dozed through that part of the oath. And, lady,
you’re the last person who’d need my help in conversation.”
    “How ungallant of you to ruin my attempt to be meek and submissive. Especially
since you’ll have noted that it’s not something that comes naturally to me.”
Eleanor flashed her a smile as she set the last queen in place. “You do play?”
    “Poorly,” Riannon said.
    “Good. I love winning.”
    Riannon laughed.
    As they played, Eleanor garnered more of Riannon’s smiles and infrequent
laughter.
    At one point, Eleanor reached across to straighten one of her men on the board
just as Riannon moved to lift one of her pieces. Riannon ended up holding
Eleanor’s hand.
    “Do you suspect me of trying to capture your knight when you weren’t looking?”
Eleanor said.
    “You already have it,” Riannon said.
    That errant part of Eleanor’s mind, which occasionally delighted in making
irrelevant observations at inappropriate times, noted how pleasant Riannon’s
touch felt. It was only several moves later, when she captured one of Riannon’s
knights, that she realised both of Riannon’s chessmen had been on the board when
she claimed her knight already taken.
    Eleanor was not long in discovering that Riannon had been truthful in her
assessment as an indifferent chess player. Her inattention did not aid her game,
for she kept staring at the closed shutter as if she could see outside to the
steadily falling rain and beyond. Certainly, it was not intake of wine which
dulled her skills, for Eleanor noticed that she drank sparingly and that little
was heavily watered.
    Eleanor captured Riannon’s castle and set the ivory piece back in the box. “I
could’ve removed half your men and you not noticed.”
    “Your pardon, lady. I did warn you that I’d be an unworthy opponent.”
    “We’re not likely to meet with footpads or brigands on the morrow, are we? I ask
because you seem to be contemplating something of little pleasure.”
    “I’m trying to recall the name of a weed.”
    “A weed?” Eleanor said. “A particular one or would any specimen serve? I could
name you any number if it would help.”
    “It’s a plant that grows in warmer lands. You put me in the mind of it.”
    “A weed?” Eleanor was