“If it could be proved that a rightful claimant existed, would you step aside?”

“My daughter inherits nothing except Lavas County.”

“If it could be proved that there exists a person whose claim supersedes hers, would you withdraw her claim?”

Geoffrey gestured recklessly, a broad swipe. Sorrow barked at the abrupt movement but at a word from Alain held still. “Why not? You’re a fool to speak so! If you’ll give your pledge to make no claim yourself, to reject the claim Lavastine made on your behalf, then I’ll pledge in my turn to accept that claim which supersedes that of my daughter. But it must withstand scrutiny! Biscop Constance herself, or a council of church folk with equal authority, must certify the truth of the claim. You can’t pass off some girl—is that it? Is that the story of the child you want to leave here?”

“No. She is the unwanted granddaughter of a householder from Osna Sound, nothing more.”

“Very well, then! We’ll make these pledges publicly and have them written down. You’ll depart, and leave me and my daughter in peace!”

Alain smiled sadly. “Beware of making such a pledge lightly, Lord Geoffrey, and only because you believe it will not turn around to bite you.”

“I just want you gone before the sun sets!”

“So be it.”

3

GEOFFREY had a guard waiting outside, and these dozen sullen men escorted them back to the hall with Mistress Dhuoda. The chatelaine twisted her hands fretfully as they walked.

“Sit here until the folk hereabouts can be assembled, enough to swear to what they see and hear,” said Geoffrey brusquely once they had come into the hall. He took his captain aside and gave him orders, and sent Dhuoda to fetch his daughter from the upper rooms.

Alain sat on a bench in the corner of the hall. The hounds lay down at his feet. He sat there so quietly that after a while, when most of the guards went out to round up an assembly, it seemed they had forgotten him. On this cold spring afternoon no one used the hall. It appeared, by the arrangement of tables, that no feast had entertained the rafters for a good long time. The high table was pushed up against the wall of the dais; neither chairs nor benches rested beside it. A pair of tables and benches sat end to end by the wide hearth, where a fire burned, although it did not warm the corner where he waited. In the good days, under Lavastine, fully four or five score people might crowd into the hall for a grand feast. Now it appeared that a dozen ate by the fire, perhaps on warmer days, and that otherwise folk ate in their own chambers or houses, or in the barracks and kitchen. The floor was recently swept clean except for a spattering of bird droppings just to the left of where the entrance doors opened wide to the porch.

Alain gazed at the rafters by the door. A pair of swallows had been used to build their nest there, tolerated because swallows were thought to bring good luck, but he saw no activity.