Luneta thought periodically about Ywain, wondering if he were perhaps looking over her shoulder or standing in a corner listening, but she heard no sound and saw no sign of him. Neither did the steward, Malvolus, who continued his vengeful search for his master's killer for three full days. On the second day, a guard discovered Ywain's armor under a pile of straw in the stables, and for several days the steward went about staring suspiciously at all the men of the castle, imagining that his master's slayer was still in the castle in disguise. He was especially suspicious of Rhience, and if the fool hadn't been with Lady Laudine at the time that Sir Esclados left the castle, he would have been locked up without hesitation. Malvolus grew more dictatorial daily, but the one time that Luneta brought up the matter to Lady Laudine, suggesting that now that she was sole mistress of the castle she could get rid of her husband's steward, Lady Laudine dissolved in tears and begged Luneta, "Please, don't ask me to think of such things now! You can't understand how comforting it is for me to know that Malvolus is running the castle just as my dear husband would want."
Only when Lady Laudine was asleep did Luneta have any time to herself, and at these times she usually sought out Rhience. On the evening of the second day after Sir Esclados's death, she found him reading in the sitting room where Lady Laudine had first received them, and sank exhaustedly into a chair beside him. "Any sign of my cousin?" she asked.
"Maybe," Rhience said. "I heard a kitchen maid complaining about some missing food. She had just set it down for a moment, and then it was gone."
"He's not starving, anyway," Luneta said. She closed her eyes wearily.
"Have you put your child down for the night?" Rhience asked.
Luneta allowed one side of her mouth to smile, and she replied without opening her eyes. "If you mean Laudine, yes. And if I don't go back to my own room, then maybe no one will be able to find me to fetch me to her when she rings her bell rope."
"Is it so bad?"
Luneta shrugged. "I try to remind myself that she really is suffering. Her husband died just two days ago, and that would be a shock for anyone. And I must admit, she seems to have really loved her husband."
"Is that what you think?"
Luneta opened her eyes at this. "What else would explain all this moping around and crying all over the castle? Anyway, she told me so. It was love at first sight for both of them. Her father was visiting him on business, and they met at dinner and fell in love at once."
Rhience began to shake with laughter. "She told you that?"
"Yes."
"Did she, by any chance, tell you what the business was that Sir Esclados had with her father?"
"No. I doubt she even knew. She doesn't seem much interested in business."
"She'd have been interested in this. Their business was to arrange her dowry."
"What?"
"No joke, Luneta. Sir Esclados and Lady Laudine's father had this marriage all arranged before they even met."
Luneta stared at Rhience for a moment, then shrugged again. "I suppose you had this from the servants, and they usually know, but it doesn't mean that they didn't fall in love."
"Did you see any sign of love at dinner the night Sir Esclados died?"
Luneta shook her head. "No, I didn't. He didn't look as if he cared for her much, and as for her, she was terrified of him. In fact, when she first started talking about how much they loved each other, and how gentle and considerate he was, I could hardly believe she meant the same fellow I met, but I can't deny that she's pretty desperately broken up by his death."
"Maybe he's easier to love dead than he was alive," Rhience commented. "I've known people like that." He looked thoughtful for a moment, then added, "In fact, I know some people I'd be willing to try it on. Take Malvolus, for instance. I find him very difficult to love just now, but I'm willing to give it a try, even if it means that I have to kill him first."
"Yes, I know," Luneta said, grinning ruefully. "A real piece of rotten fruit, isn't he? I tried to persuade Laudine to turn him out, but she won't hear of it. She says he's a comfort."
Rhience shook his head sadly. "She's quite mad. Malvolus a comfort?"
Luneta nodded. "But then, she also says that she never heard Sir Esclados utter a harsh word."
Rhience whistled softly. "Let's hope she recovers her wits after the funeral tomorrow."
Sir Esclados's funeral did not seem to help Laudine, though. The service itself took almost three hours, mostly because it was interrupted so often. No fewer than four times the priest had to halt the proceedings until Laudine had finished a hysterical outburst. At one point, she even had to be restrained from throwing herself on her husband's body, and Luneta came very near to slapping her hostess. Naturally, most of the people in the county were at the funeral of their feudal lord, and from the rapt expressions on their faces, Luneta could tell that they were enjoying the spectacle of Laudine's displays very much indeed. It angered Luneta that Laudine should be so oblivious of others, but grabbing her and shaking some sense into her would hardly help matters, so Luneta contented herself with holding her chin high and pretending to ignore everything except the Latin service that the harried-looking priest kept trying to complete.
When it was over and Laudine had gone to lie down, Luneta sought out Rhience to unburden herself, but when she found him, he refused to enter into her disgust.
"I think it was a splendid service," he announced, interrupting her furious tirade. "Marvelous!"
"You're mad! With all that shrieking and wailing? I daresay half the people forgot Sir Esclados was even there."
"Exactly! I cannot sufficiently describe my admiration for her."
"For Laudine?"
"Of course! As a performer myself, I—"
"Oh, shut up!" Luneta snapped.
"Never have I seen someone rise to an occasion as she did. Why, the audience was spellbound!"
"Yes, if it had been her intention to put on a show." Rhience only raised one eyebrow, and Luneta said, "I think I know Laudine better than you do, and I'm sure she had no such idea in her mind."
"Or any other, for that matter," Rhience contributed.
"Look, Laudine may not be the cleverest—"
"I think she's adorable."
Luneta stared at Rhience for a moment before it occurred to her that his lips had not moved. Rhience glanced around, then grinned and said, "How nice to hear from you, Ywain. So sorry I didn't greet you properly when you came in—unless you were here before me, of course."
"Poor Lady Laudine," Ywain's voice said. "She's so frail, so tender."
"But she has stamina," Rhience pointed out. "You have to give her that. Why, she must have cried for—"
"How much I longed to take her under my arm and comfort her. She needs someone to protect her."
"Look, Ywain," Rhience said suddenly. "I don't suppose you could take off the ring while we talk, could you? It's a bit disconcerting having a conversation with the air."
A moment later, Ywain appeared. He was wearing a sober suit of black velvet.
"You're wearing mourning?" Rhience asked.
"But of course," Ywain replied. "The woman I love is grieving. How could it be otherwise?"
"Even though you're the one who brought about her grief?" Luneta asked.
"It's not as if anyone will see you," Rhience added. "Where'd you get the black suit anyway?"
"Sir Esclados's things, of course. We're nearly the same size."
"This is getting strange," Rhience complained.
"Well, I couldn't keep wearing my armor. It clinks when I walk. And you wouldn't expect me to run around naked, would you?"
"Why not? You're invisible."
"It's cold," Ywain replied practically. "That's why not."
Luneta broke in impatiently. "I don't care where you got your clothes. The important thing is that we've found you again and can get you out of the castle."
"But I told you. I don't want to leave."
Luneta ignored h
im. "Rhience, do you know where they've put Ywain's armor?"
"Sure. It's in Malvolus's rooms."
"It doesn't matter," Ywain said. "I'm not leaving."
"Look, Ywain, you saw how grief-stricken Laudine was at the funeral. Can't you see how hopeless it is for you to stay? She'll never consider marrying again."
"She doesn't mourn for Sir Esclados," Ywain said simply.
"She doesn't? What do you call all that at the funeral?"
"She's frightened," Ywain said with confidence. "I've been watching her."
"You have, have you?" Luneta said suspiciously.
"Not when she's dressing or anything like that, if that's what you're thinking," Ywain said. "What sort of a cad do you think I am, taking advantage of her own ring to spy on her?" Luneta looked away, conscious of a sense of relief. She had wondered, when helping Laudine to undress, if Ywain were in the room. Ywain continued, "She doesn't act like someone who's lost a loved one. She's only afraid of what's going to happen to her now."
"Are you telling me that all that ghastly display at the funeral was fear?" Luneta demanded impatiently.
"Yes."
Then, to Luneta's surprise, Rhience came to Ywain's support. "Much as I hate to agree with our friend here, he's partly right. I too think that most of our lady's tears come from self-pity."
"Not self-pity. Fear for her future."
"As you wish," Rhience said agreeably. "That doesn't change the fact that you're wasting your time here. You can't show yourself, and you can't court the lady while you're invisible."
"That's why I came to find you."
"Why?" Luneta asked.
"Well, I couldn't help but notice that you've become her chief companion," Ywain said. "She trusts you."
"And?" Luneta asked.
"Do you think you could put in a good word for me?"
Luneta and Rhience looked at each other. "He's mad," she said.
"Insanus," Rhience said, nodding agreement.
Ywain shrugged. "Thought it wouldn't hurt to ask," he said. Then he was gone.
Laudine continued to live a life of ostentatious mourning, and Luneta continued to play the role of chief comforter, but she couldn't help remembering what Ywain and Rhience had said and wondering if they were right. Gould all this excessive display of grief be prompted by fear (or, as Rhience would have it, self-pity)? Luneta began to notice that Laudine's most frequently expressed sentiment was "What's going to happen to me now?" Luneta adjusted her words of comfort accordingly, stressing how loyal the castle servants were to her and how well they would take care of her. These assurances seemed to help, but not a great deal. Finally, one day, Luneta asked Rhience to see if he could help her. He arrived escorted by two manservants, but Laudine gave him one glance and turned away.
"No," she said faintly. "Take the fool away."
Rhience turned to the two men. "Do you hear her? Take the lady away."
The men looked hesitantly at each other, and Laudine said, "I suppose you mean that I'm a fool, but if that's the best you can do, I'm afraid that your wit has dried up."
"Very true, my lady," Rhience replied at once. "But that's easy enough to fix." He looked at the servants again. "Ale, my good men. That's what we need."
"Please go away," Laudine said. "This is no time for foolishness."
"Exactly what I say, my lady. It is time to put away foolishness."
Laudine looked out the window, and Luneta said to Rhience, "This is your idea of cheering her up? Calling her a fool?"
"Do you think I'm joking? Come, let us see which one is the fool. But I shall have to catechize you. I shall ask, and you answer." Laudine didn't speak, but she hesitated, and that was enough for Rhience. "Tell me, my lady, why do you mourn?"
"I mourn for my dead husband, fool."
"Ah, yes. And this is because his soul is in hell, is it not?"
Laudine looked up sharply. "What?"
"I think Sir Esclados is in hell."
"I know his soul is in heaven, fool!"
"Why, if that's so, then the more fool are you to mourn for him. Take away the fool, gentlemen."
Laudine's perfect face contracted in an angry scowl, and Luneta quickly guided Rhience to the door. "Do you know, Rhience, I'm not sure that this was such a good idea."
"She stopped crying, didn't she?"
"And you think angry is better?"
"It's a change, anyway," Rhience pointed out. "Variety's good, isn't it?"
By this time Luneta had Rhience and the servants out the door. She said, "I'm about to find out, I think."
As she closed the door between them, she heard Rhience saying to the gentlemen, "Now, about that ale. You heard your mistress say I was dry, didn't you?"
Luneta turned slowly back to face Laudine, an apology on her lips, but Laudine's face no longer looked angry but rather was thoughtful. "Luneta?"
"Yes, my lady?"
"Do you think I mourn too much?"
Luneta stared at the stone floor between them. "I cannot say, my lady."
"It's just that ... I'm so afraid." Luneta looked up quickly and for a moment saw the most genuine expression she had ever seen on Laudine's face. She looked like a little girl.
"For years, I was sure I would spend my life alone. My father was not wealthy, and no one wanted to marry me. By the time Sir Esclados came into my life, I was at my last prayers."
This was unfathomable to Luneta. Laudine was impossibly beautiful. How could no one have wanted to marry her? Ywain had fallen in love with her at one look, hadn't he? But Luneta held her tongue, and Laudine continued.
"My father was old, and he had no sons. When he died, my cousin would inherit our home, and then I would have nothing. Then my father grew ill. I came back to his bedside."
"Came back?" Luneta asked.
Laudine faltered. "I had been away, visiting ... visiting some ladies. Like you are visiting me. That was where I met your mother, in fact. But I had to leave early because of my father's illness. Then, from nowhere, Sir Esclados invited us to visit and asked for my hand, and all my fears were taken away." Laudine twisted a handkerchief in her hands. "I know you think ... thought ... that he was too old for me. But that didn't bother me. Really, it didn't. He was a great knight, and with him I was safe at last. Even when my father died, I knew I would be cared for. And now ... now I don't know what will happen."
Laudine began to cry, but with quiet, heartfelt sobs instead of the dramatic keening and wailing of the past week. Luneta's throat tightened, and she repented of all the irritation she had felt toward her hostess. "Laudine?" she asked tentatively. "What if ... what if you were to remarry?"
Laudine looked up, her eyes bright with tears. "How could I? I have ... I have thought of it, but it's impossible. Remember the magic of the Storm Stone? I'm now the mistress of this castle, and I must remain here until I wither away, an old maid."
"Don't do it," Rhience said. They were alone in the sitting room that evening. "Don't get involved."
"But Ywain is right. She needs someone to take care of her."
"Let her learn to take care of herself. Look, if you'd been married to Sir Esclados and he died, would you be in a big rush to find someone else to take his place?"
"It's a pointless question," Luneta replied promptly, "because I never would have married Sir Esclados to begin with."
"That's just the point! She needs to stop asking other people to do everything for her, or she'll end up in the same basket as before."
"Ywain's not like Sir Esclados."
"Don't be deceived, lass. Any man who marries a simpering, helpless ninny like Laudine can end up like Sir Esclados."
"Even you?" Luneta asked.
"It's a pointless question," Rhience replied with a sniff. "Because I wouldn't marry a simpering ninny like that to begin with."
"Perhaps Laudine is a little bit too helpless ... all right, so she is. She's not going to change now. The best thing for her will be to marry again to someone who w
ill love her as Sir Esclados didn't."
"And who are you to decide what's best for Laudine?" Rhience demanded.
"It's not just what I think; it's what she thinks, too. Look, Rhience, I know that she can be irritating and silly, but she has a good heart, and I like her. And when you like someone, you can't just let them suffer when there's something you can do to help."
Rhience shook his head sadly. "I still think it's wrong to meddle, but I'm not going to convince you, am I?"
"No."
He sighed. "My only consolation is that you won't be successful. I know you cherish the illusion that you can get anyone to do anything you want, but remember that Ywain is the man who killed her husband. No one could bring those two together, not even you."
The next morning, when Luneta went to Laudine's room, she took a sword with her. Laudine stared at her. "What are you doing with that sword?"
"I thought that if you were feeling up to it later, I could give you some pointers."
"Somewhat?"
"I've never actually been trained in swordplay myself, but as you know, my uncle is Sir Gawain, one of the greatest knights in England, and I've watched him practicing. I should be able to get you started. Later on, of course, you'll need to spar with some of your soldiers. Do you know if any of them have been trained with the broadsword?"
"I ... no..."
"So many soldiers these days are taught only how to use the pike and the longbow."
"What are you talking about, Luneta?"
"Pikes and longbows. Pikes are these long spears—"
"But why? I have no interest in weapons."
Luneta looked thoughtful. "Hmm. That makes it harder." Then she shrugged. "But it doesn't change anything, does it? You'll just have to develop an interest."
"But why? Why would I ever want to know about weapons?"
Luneta stared at her with exaggerated astonishment. "Don't tell me it hasn't occurred to you!"