King's Dragon (Crown of Stars #1)

King's Dragon (Crown of Stars #1) Page 226

“That is heresy,” Alain whispered, glancing around, but they remained alone in the chapel. Sorrow sat panting by the door, and no man dared enter because of him.

“It is not heresy,” she finished, her pale face taking color as she took heart from whatever memory she had of Agius’ preaching. “You must acknowledge it. You heard him. You must know it is the truth.”

“I—” It made him deeply uncomfortable to have a princess who wore the gold torque marking her royal kinship kneeling in front of him—and speaking of heresy, in a biscop’s palace. “You must rise, Princess.” He tried to tug her to her feet, but she was either stronger than she looked or holding fast to her purpose. Her hands were warm on his, warming his, and he looked into her face and did not understand what he saw there.

“I pray King Henry will put me in the church,” she said, staring up at Alain.

Or marry her to me. The thought popped unbidden into Alain’s mind. He was so stricken by it that he let go of her hands and sat down on the nearest bench. Ai, blessed Lord and Lady. He was a lord, now, heir to the count of Lavas. He could think about marriage.

“Then, when I am made deacon, I will preach,” she said in a fierce whisper. “I will preach the Holy Word Agius taught me, though the skopos calls it heresy. If they condemn me for it, then I will be a martyr, as he was, and ascend to the Chamber of Light where the saints and the martyrs live in the blazing light of Our Lady’s gaze and Her Son’s sweet glory.”

Alain almost laughed, not at her but at the strange path that had brought him here to this chapel on this night.

Serve me, the Lady of Battles had said, and she had given to him a blood-red rose as her token, as the sign of her favor. He had served, as well as he was able. He had ridden to war. He had broken the compulsion laid by sorcery on Lavastine, and he had killed the guivre, though only because of Agius’ sacrifice. He had tried always to do what was right, though sometimes he had failed. He had not saved Lackling, but he had saved the Eika prince, although perhaps the life of the savage had not been worth the life of the poor simple boy. But it was not his place to judge the worth of their souls.

And Alain knew that although he had been raised from freeholder’s son to count’s heir, a huge leap in the world of men, such fortune could only have come about because of the presence of divine favor.

“Come, Tallia,” he said, bold enough to use her name and hoping he would not be judged proud and insolent for doing so. “It is not fitting that you kneel. Sit beside me, I pray you.” He gave her his hand and helped her up and, after a hesitation, she deigned to sit beside him on the bench.

She glanced past him toward the door and shuddered.

“What is wrong?”

“The hound. It scares me.”

“I won’t let it hurt you.” He snapped his fingers. “Sorrow, come, boy.” Sorrow padded dutifully over to him, and as if pulled along behind it on a string, his distraught servant crept into the chapel where he could observe safely, from a distance. Tallia shrank back from the hound’s massive presence, but he bade the hound sit and then he took her hand in his and, whispering softly, let her touch the hound’s head. “You see,” he said, “they are like any soul that wishes only to be touched with compassion and not with hatred or fear.”

“You are very wise,” said Tallia, but after a moment she withdrew her hand from Sorrow, though the hound made no move to snap or growl at her, obedient to Alain’s command.

Alain smiled wryly. “I’m not wise. I’m only repeating what my fa—” But Henri was not his father. Lavastine was his father. Yet at this moment it did not truly matter. Henri had raised him as well as he was able. “I’m only repeating what others have taught me.”

There was a sudden flurry of movement by the door. Rage bounded in, followed by Lavastine. Tallia shrank away, but Rage sat down firmly on Alain’s slippered feet, as if to make sure he did not run, and ignored the girl.

Lavastine ran a hand through rumpled hair and glared at Alain. “What do you mean by this?” he demanded.

“I—my lord—I—”

“Well! Out with it!”

“I couldn’t sleep. I just came here—” He gestured, half terrified that he had offended Lavastine, half confused by the expression on Lavastine’s face, which he could not interpret.

Lavastine caught himself and made a simple bow. “Princess Tallia. I beg your pardon.” He called to a servant. “Escort the princess back to her chamber.”