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.But she recognized Prospero’s challenge, and looked steadily back at him, refusing to lower her eyes, to back down from his hostility.In a slow, metered tone she said, “It would reflect well on Mr.Lawrence if, when he is ruler, his family eats with silverware and refrains from issuing sounds from their bodily orifices.”“I speak out of a bodily orifice,” Prospero retorted.“Exactly,” she said.Everyone laughed.Everyone except Prospero, who turned ruddy with rage.When Raul stopped chuckling and caught his breath, he said, “Ah, Prospero, I’ve discovered myself it’s not wise to match wits with Miss Cardiff.She makes one feel like an unarmed man.”Prospero was trapped, angry and foolish and unable to take it out on Victoria.So he pointed his stubby finger at Hada.“Woman! Pay attention.I need more ale.”Hada tossed a glance at Victoria that promised retribution, then carried the pitcher over and filled up his goblet.“She’s not his servant,” Victoria said to Raul.“Worse.She’s his wife.” Raul touched her lightly on the arm.“Don’t worry.Ultimately, she holds the reins.”Raul pulled out the chair next to his.Victoria seated herself.He seated himself.The arrangement was medieval—the head table across the head of the hall, two long tables down the sides, spoons at each place, and knives, long, curved, and wickedly sharp, provided by the diners themselves.Zakerie and Prospero sat at the head table at Raul’s right hand.Hada and Thompson had seats at Victoria’s left—not that either of them sat for more than a minute at a time.The fighting men sat on long benches.Thompson and Hada directed the women who served the meal: huge platters of skewered sausages, peppers and onions, the spitted beef, mountains of roasted potatoes, round, flat loaves of bread, and golden mashed carrots with herbs.The conversation, the laughter, the savory smells slowly relaxed Victoria.The moment with Prospero had been tense, and he made it clear she would pay for her cheek, but she had no doubt she could deal with him.After all, she understood and taught children.Thompson carried the platters to the head table.Raul served her, explaining that the sausage was spicy, the bread was dark and wheaty, the carrots were one of cook’s specialties.But he refused to allow her to drink from her own goblet, insisting that she share his, and every time she sipped, she was aware of his satisfied gaze on her.The man had a way of putting his stamp on that which he coveted.As a proud, independent woman, she shouldn’t like being a “that”.but as a woman who had never been able to depend on anyone except herself, his assumption of responsibility for his entire family—and the way he included her in that family—reluctantly warmed her.And why was she listening to his voice and smiling? Why was she trying to learn his language to please him?Because she hadn’t slept well the night before.Because the food and wine were stealing her common sense.Because obviously she was exhausted.Tomorrow she swore she would be back to normal.Tomorrow she would defy Raul again.As the meal wound down, she leaned back and surveyed the great hall.It was full to the rafters, yet by her calculations, there were no more than one hundred and fifty men and a third fewer women, and that seemed inadequate for the plans Raul had made.When he turned to her and inquired after her comfort, she asked, “Is this your whole army?”“We also have soldiers out on patrol, spies in the city, men and women in place in the hotels and in the royal palace,” Raul told her.“While I don’t pretend to understand war or battles, it seems that as a revolutionary force, it’s alarmingly small.”“Think of the Spanish Armada, crushed by Queen Elizabeth’s tiny fleet.” Raul’s voice rumbled, low and comforting.“How many mercenaries are you facing?” she asked.“A thousand men.”“And the de Guignards themselves? Are they fighters?”“Every rat, when cornered, will come out fighting.”“Then you’re outnumbered five to one.”“Four to one,” he said.Prospero must have trained his hearing, for he leaned across Zakerie.“The woman is right.We need more men to win this battle.My king, we could have more fighting men.”“No, we couldn’t,” Zakerie snapped at Prospero.Victoria looked among the three men, at Prospero’s frustration, Zakerie’s bulldog determination, Raul’s still expression, trying to comprehend what they would not say.“What do you mean?”“Prospero believes we could join forces with my cousin Danel,” Raul said.His calm forbearance served only to build Victoria’s frustration.“If it’s possible, why would you not?”“Danel is challenging my right to be king,” Raul told her.Prospero sat forward again.“I know Danel.He’s a proud man, but if you would simply go and talk to him—”Zakerie interrupted, “I know Danel, too.He’s my cousin, too, my blood kin.”Prospero drew back as if he were a cur who had been reprimanded.Raul might mean it when he said Prospero was part of his family, but for Zakerie, clearly blood was thicker than water.“I grew up with Danel.I was his second in command, and when he heard that Saber had returned, he called him a usurper and swore to kill him the same way the de Guignards killed Reynaldo.” A lock of Zakerie’s dark hair fell over his forehead, and his amber eyes were earnest.“Why would he do that?” Victoria was trying to discern not so much who was right and who was wrong, but why they disagreed on such a basic issue.“Danel is older than me, and legitimate, with no foreign blood in him.Some believe age brings wisdom; ergo Danel is wiser than me.Some believe it’s important that your parents be married at your birth.” Raul gave a world-weary shrug.“But that which sways most of those who will not support me is my English blood.I’m not full Moricadian.So while I was abroad, it was assumed he would lead the revolution and be crowned king in my place.”Now she understood Danel’s claim, if not the dissension among Raul’s commanders.“I see.So this divides your family.”“It does.” Raul looked stern and distant, as if everywhere he turned, he ran into this insurmountable wall.She wanted to talk more, to listen to the voices, to analyze the situation in depth—but a yawn caught her by surprise.Raul chuckled softly.“You need your sleep [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]