Now that Lavastine’s wounds had been tended to, Alain and Lavastine and the hounds were alone in the tent. From outside he heard the low rumble of activity as wounded were carried in, scouts came and went, men looted and burned the Eika dead under the moon’s light, and sentries called out challenges.
“He must have suffered terribly,” said Alain, scratching Fear under his jaw.
“But he is alive. They say he came attended by Eika dogs, as faithful to him as his Dragons once were. What do you think of that?”
Alain laughed. “Ought I to think something of it when I sit here with these faithful beasts?”
Lavastine grunted. “True enough.” He stretched, wincing. “When I was your age, I would have felt no ache in my bones, even after a day such as this. What a strange creature the Eika princeling was, to let us go like that in the cathedral when he could have killed us all. How foresighted of you to free him, Alain.”
“Even if meant sacrificing Lackling in his place?” The old shame still burned.
“Who is Lackling?” Lavastine yawned, stretched again, and tied up the hounds, then called for a servingman to take off his boots. “What happened to the Eagle, do you know?”
Alain saw there was no point in reminding his father about Lackling. “She went back to her duties.”
“You were wise to gain her loyalty, son. It seems to me that when you marry, Lady Tallia’s consequence will allow you to count Eagles in your retinue. You must ask for that one. There is some power at work within her. It would be well to have it for our use, if we can.”
Marry Tallia. All else that Lavastine said swirled round him like the night’s breeze and faded into nothing. Marry Tallia.
Lavastine went on to discuss Henry’s plans to send for Tallia and have her brought to his progress, but the words passed in a haze. When the hounds were settled and a rough pallet was set in place, Alain lay down beside his father and closed his eyes to see the terrible images of battle bursting like fire against his eyes. The rose burned at his chest like a hot coal. But slowly the pain faded. With the snoring of the hounds beside him and his father’s even breath on his ear, the awful images faded into a vision of Tallia, her wheatpale hair unbound and her solemn face turned toward him. His wife. Bound to him by their mutual oaths sworn before witnesses and blessed by a biscop.