Free While Angels Slept by Kathryn Le Veque

led him out of the alcove and into the great hall, full of
miserable men lying upon the floor. It smelled of smoke and blood.
    As they visited
the wounded one by one and discussed their condition, Tevin found himself
paying more attention to the sheer grace and beauty of the lady rather than
listening to what she was saying.  Too soon, they were finished discussing the
condition of the men and their purpose for conversation was over.  It was
growing late.
    “If there is
nothing else, my lord, then I shall put my son to bed,” Cantia said, glancing
over at the boy as he inspected a soldier with a splint on his leg. “It has
been a busy day for him.”
    Tevin nodded. “I
thank you for your attention to my men.” He eyed her as she bowed slightly to
him, to excuse herself, and moved away. “My lady?”
    She paused.
“Aye, my lord?”
    “Will you be all
right tonight?” he lifted an eyebrow. “Should I check on you later to make
sure?”
    She knew what he
meant and her embarrassment returned. She averted her gaze. “I will be quite
well, my lord,” she assured him softly. “Moreover, you took the only weapon I
had.”
    “You can always
obtain another one if the will is strong enough.”
    She shook her
head, firmly. “No need, my lord. But I thank you for your concern.”
    Taking Hunt by
the hand, she quit the hall with the big yellow dog in tow. Tevin swore that
when she left, all of the light went out of the room.
     
    ***
     
    Cantia awoke on
the floor of her bower. The bed was right over her head but she realized that
she couldn’t bear to sleep on it any longer. The bed reminded her of her
husband and it brought more distress than she could handle to sleep upon it. So
she had slept on the floor, just as she had done since his death.  She didn’t
know if she would ever be able to sleep on the bed again.
    She was slow to
rise and even slower to dress. Shades of dawn were beginning to spread across
the sky, growing brighter by the moment. But Cantia saw no magic in the
sunrise. The last time she had gazed upon such a thing had been the day her
husband had perished. She did not believe she would ever be able to gaze upon
another sunrise as long as she lived and not think of that ominous morning.
    After a brisk
wash in the rosewater that the old servant woman had brought her, she donned a
simple blue sheath and surcoat, securing it fast with a black broadcloth
girdle.  She rightly suspected she would be busy with wounded for the day and
did not want to muss a finer garment.  
    Securing her
magnificent hair in a thick braid that draped over her shoulder, she gazed at
herself in the polished bronze mirror and thought that there was something
different about her this morning.  She didn’t look like a happy young girl any
longer. She looked like a woman whose grief had matured her.  She stared at
herself until tears came to her eyes and then she put the mirror down.  She
couldn’t bear the reflection any longer.
    Hunt was in the
small landing outside when she came out of her chamber. He had his toys spread
out all over the landing and top stairs, something that Brac had repeatedly
admonished him against.  Cantia found herself doing the same thing. Hunt made
the effort to put a couple of wooden soldiers back in his room but then he
began begging for food.  Taking her son down to the living level, she passed by
the solar on her way to the great hall and caught a glimpse of bodies in the
small room. Pausing, she peered inside.
    The lady knight
was on her cot, sitting up against the wall.  The lady knight looked at Cantia,
nodding her head slightly as their eyes met. Cantia was about to say something
to the women when movement caught her attention further off to her right. She
had to step into the room to see who it was.
    Charles Penden
sat at the large table so often used by his son over the course of the years. 
She’d not seen the man for two days and now, he had appeared.  He looked
disheveled and she