The Legend of Lady Ilena by Patricia Malone

Author:Patricia Malone [Malone, Patricia]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 978-0-307-56593-8
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2002-08-28T04:00:00+00:00

I LEAP TO MY FEET, WIPING AT MY GREASY MOUTH AND hands with the linen towel left from my bath.

He stands without moving, staring at me. Finally he speaks in a soft voice. “Miquain? Is it you, then?”

The look on his face moves me to tears. I want at this moment to be Miquain, to do anything or be anyone that might bring comfort to this tragic man. But I can only speak as gently as possible. “I’m sorry to startle you, sir. I am not Miquain.”

“You are not Miquain?” He looks old, bewildered.

I cannot check my tears. I swipe at my face with the towel. “I am Ilena. Remember? I was in the hall three nights ago.”

He makes an effort to recover himself. “Yes. Ogern sent you to the grove. He said wolves broke in and took you.”

“I escaped from the wolves.” I am still not ready to say Ryamen’s name.

“Why are you in Miquain’s room?” He does not sound angry, just deeply sorrowful.

“I brought her here, Belert.” Spusscio speaks from behind him. “I meant to warn you, but I missed you in the hall.”

“She is not Miquain.” This time he sounds resigned.

“No. She is not. I think we must decide who she is.”

“Yes. Yes, certainly.” Belert looks for a place to sit.

Spusscio brings us more ale and a large stack of sweet cakes. He hands them to me and motions toward the door. “We should go into your quarters, sir. If anyone comes they will not be surprised to hear voices in there.”

“Yes.” Belert looks around Miquain’s room slowly. He notices my clothes and the open box on the floor.

I start to say something but catch Spusscio’s eye. He shakes his head, and I remain silent.

I follow the chief into his chamber. Spusscio comes behind, carrying the kettle and bucket with the towel and limp soapstone twigs inside. He stacks them by the door.

This chamber is much larger than Miquain’s. There are thick hangings over all the walls, and two windows look out on the ramparts. The bedplace is wide and richly appointed. A large table with benches enough for several people stands near the hearth. Boxes and baskets sit about the room and on the shelves. A shield much like the one I carried from Enfert stands in a corner with a bundle of spears. A sword in a gold-trimmed scabbard leans in another corner, its chape nestled into a groove between floor stones.

Belert sits at the table and leans his head in his hands. Spusscio stirs the smoldering fire to life. A light rain has begun to fall, and I can see dark clouds above the ramparts. I place the food and drink on the large table and look around for something to wipe the honey off my fingers. Spusscio sees my problem and gets me the linen towel from the bucket.

When both of us are settled, Belert looks up and speaks. “Now, Spusscio, how do we have Ilena here in this place?”

“She stumbled over me on the grounds.

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