Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Aisley had never seen so large a great hall nor so many people gathered in one place. Long tables laden with food and drink lined the perimeter of the room. Benches filled to capacity with the king's guests ran along both sides of all the tables except the one at the head of the room. There, King Alfred, his wife, and his closest thegns sat with an unobstructed view of the reveling visitors.

Wulfhere was seated at the far end of the head table. It was a position of honor, and he had claimed it with gratification. If he had been disappointed that he was too far removed from the king to engage in a private conversation, he was currently hiding the emotion well. He and the thegn seated at his left appeared to be in great spirits, their reddened cheeks and loud laughter hinting at rather too many goblets of ale.

For her part, Aisley was glad that she, Diera, and their mother were seated on the other side of the room. It made it far easier to quietly observe those around her without feeling that she, too, was on display. Her gaze drifted past the glowing fire in the center of the room to the musicians who were slowly circling it and then—inevitably—to Brecc. He and Ealdorman Ormod, who was seated at his left, exchanged a few words. Brecc nodded at something the king's adviser said and speared a piece of meat in the trencher before him with his dagger. Raising the piece of venison to his mouth, he looked out across the room, and his eyes met hers.

For three long, pounding heartbeats, he held her gaze, and then a jester ran between them, tossing five balls into the air in quick succession. Aisley blinked. All around her, the crowd cheered. The jester stumbled into an overly dramatic bow. The crowd laughed, and at the head table, the king's laughter joined in. Brecc smiled. He was surely responding to the jester's antics rather than to having noticed her, but Aisley's heart warmed regardless. There had been little reason for him to smile earlier today. She was glad that his worry for Rheged had lessened enough for him to enjoy the evening.

As though Diera had somehow sensed the direction of Aisley's thoughts, she leaned closer and spoke over the chatter and the music. "You must tell me before I die of curiosity. Has the mysterious ailing thegn whose name you refuse to divulge recovered enough to attend the banquet this evening?"

"To the best of my knowledge, no one has ever died purely of curiosity," Aisley said dryly. "I believe your life is safe."

"Truly, Aisley? That is all you will tell me?"

Aisley gave a weary sigh. What would it take to stem her sister's unending questions? She had deflected most of Diera's and their mother's earlier questions by claiming that the gentleman she had assisted was relying upon her discretion and that she was not at liberty to discuss him or his malady. Unfortunately, Diera remained completely undeterred.

"There are a great many people here," Aisley said. "Even if I were to attempt to answer your question, I could easily miss seeing someone."

Her sister raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "He was under your care. If he is here, you would know it."

There was truth to Diera's claim. There was also an empty space on the bench beside Brecc. Aisley reached for a piece of bread. She prayed that Rheged owned sufficient sense to keep to his room, for she harbored a rather strong suspicion that if the thegn were to walk into the great hall, Brecc would rise from his seat and promptly walk him back out again.

Mayhap answering Diera now, while there was nothing of substance to report, was the best way to put an end to her questions. "He is not here," she said.

"Well then." Diera did nothing to disguise her disappointment. "If I cannot see him for myself, I shall be forced to rely upon your observations." She leaned closer still. "Is the gentleman anywhere near as handsome as Ealdorman Brecc?"

Aisley tensed. Diera could rightly claim that this question had nothing whatsoever to do with Rheged's condition or her treatment of it. And yet Aisley had no desire whatsoever to answer it. What was she to say? She supposed Rheged was of a goodly stature and healthy build. During the short period he'd been outside his bed, he'd been doubled over in pain, and she had not noticed such things. Indeed, she could scarcely recall the color of his hair. A rather discomforting realization given that she knew full well that Brecc's hair had the lustrous sheen of a raven's wing and fell in soft waves to his shoulders.

"I truly cannot say." Making a concerted effort to avoid looking at the head table, Aisley placed a piece of bread into her mouth and took her time chewing it.

"Do not be ridiculous." Diera was losing patience. "Either he was pleasing to the eye or he wasn't."

"He was unwell, Diera. No one looks their best under those conditions."

"Not so handsome, then." Her sister leaned back, a satisfied gleam in her eyes. "I confess, I would have been hard-pressed to believe you had you told me otherwise. Few gentlemen are so fine as Ealdorman Brecc."

It was suddenly hard to swallow her bread. Aisley reached for her goblet and took a small sip of mead. The fruity drink washed down the morsel, and she silently berated herself for acting like a fool. What did it matter if Diera singled out Brecc? Nothing. Aisley set down her goblet and tucked her clasped hands beneath the table. That was right. It meant nothing.

Never before had Brecc envied a court jester. He had no desire to play the buffoon, to maintain a comedic or overly energetic role before the masses, and yet, as he watched Aisley's expression of wonder from across the room, he found himself wishing that he—not the whirling juggler—was the one who had so fully captured her attention.

Since he'd seen her last, she'd changed into a lavender-colored gown with embroidered embellishments at the neckline. Her hair, twisted into a coppery crown around her head, shimmered in the candlelight, and as he watched, she offered the jester a shy smile in exchange for a small ball.

"I do not recognize the two young ladies who have so entranced our jester," Ormod said. "Do you?"

With a start, Brecc realized Ormod was speaking to him. "I beg your pardon?"

"The ladies." Ormod gestured to the distant table where Aisley sat. "Who are they?"

Another glance in that direction told Brecc that the jester had offered Diera one of his other balls and was encouraging both ladies to throw them. Diera was smiling coyly. Aisley appeared distinctly uncomfortable.

"They are the sisters of Ealdorman Wulfhere," Brecc said. "And the older lady sitting beside them is their mother."

"Ah, yes." Ormod strained to see beyond the jester. "A striking woman, if I remember correctly."

"You do."

"And one daughter looks much the same."

"Both daughters have much to recommend them." Why he should feel so irritated that Ormod noticed only Diera's physical resemblance to her mother, Brecc could not tell. Her kind-hearted disposition notwithstanding, in his opinion, Aisley's hair color and diminutive stature set her apart in the best possible way. "I learned only this afternoon that the oldest, Aisley, is also a gifted healer."

"Is that so?"

"Aye. She was good enough to offer her assistance to Rheged when she came upon us at the market, and I am grateful to report that he is already feeling much improved."

Ormod eyed the vacant spot on the other side of Brecc. "I wondered what had become of the fellow. He's not one to miss a banquet if he can help it."

"True. And I daresay he would have come tonight had I not insisted that he rest. Less than three hours ago, he was deathly ill."

Ormod appeared suitably impressed. "An extraordinary healer indeed. Or else a young lady blessed with good fortune."

"In this instance, I would wager it is the former," Brecc said.

"If that is so, I wonder how she came by her skill. It is not common amongst the nobility."

It was the very opening Mistress Edla had wished for, but before Brecc could enlighten Ormod further, the king rose to his feet, and a sudden, expectant hush fell over the room.

"My friends!" King Alfred's voice carried across the large space. "We have enjoyed a fine meal together, but the queen informs me that the evening would be incomplete without some dancing. What say you?" A ripple of excitement traveled the room, and the king offered his wife a satisfied smile. "It appears that our guests are in agreement with you, my dear." At the queen's nod, the king clapped his hands. "Ladies and gentlemen, take your places for the carole."

The scrape of benches being tucked beneath tables filled the room. Servants scattered, clearing the center of the floor as the lutist joined the psalterist in the corner and began to play a familiar tune. Brecc hesitated only until he saw a broad-shouldered gentleman lead Diera into the dance circle, and then he rose. Ormod's surprised expression was understandable. Brecc could not remember the last time he had participated in a dance. But this evening seemed a good time to make a change.

Mindful that the dance would begin at any moment, Brecc crossed the floor in long, rapid strides. Already, the number of participants had grown to fill the space between the tables and the fireplace in the center of the room. They blocked his vision of the table where Aisley had been seated, and it suddenly struck him that he might not reach her before she was escorted onto the floor by another. Squaring his shoulders, he wove through a chattering group of expectant dancers. If she was no longer in her seat, he would simply have to ask another young lady to join him. At this point, he was committed.

A couple sidestepped him, and suddenly, he was standing before a table with Aisley gazing up at him.

"Brecc!" In an instant, her look of stunned disbelief turned to concern. "Has something happened to—" She caught herself. "Your associate. Has he taken a turn for the worse?"

Unsure as to whether he should admire her overarching concern for Rheged or be disheartened that she seemingly saw no other reason for him to be standing before her, Brecc shook his head slightly. "As far as I am aware, your patient is resting still." He cleared his throat. "I came to see if you would like to join me in dancing the carole."

Her eyes widened. "I had thought you did not dance."

"I do not often participate," he said, "but I am fully capable of performing the steps."

Color tinged her cheeks, but she rose immediately. "I should be honored."

The music rose in volume, and behind him, he sensed movement in the dance circle. "We shall have to cut in," he said, reaching for her hand. It was small and warm and fit in his perfectly. Tightening his grip, he drew her toward the circle and tapped the shoulder of Ealdorman Lufian. The gentleman ascertained his need in a glance. With a grudging nod, he released the hand of the lady at his right and slid to the left. Brecc and Aisley slipped into the gap and were quickly absorbed by the dancers.

Aisley stepped to the right, her feet keeping time with the music as the body of dancers circled around the room. They moved slowly and smoothly, yet her heart raced. Brecc rarely danced, but he had left the head table and crossed the entire length of the great hall to dance with her. Why would he do such a thing? Was he simply wishing to please his king? Or had he felt sorry for her when another gentleman had so quickly claimed Diera? Her pulse slowed a fraction. She did not desire his pity.

The carole's refrain began, and as was the custom, the dancers sang to the music. Brecc joined in, his voice deep and melodic. She glanced at him, and he raised an amused eyebrow.

"Does it surprise you so much that I can recall the steps and the words to the song?" he asked when the chorus ended.

Silently praying that he would attribute the warmth flooding her cheeks to the fire they were circling, she chose honesty over denial. "In truth, I am beginning to think that your dancing and singing are not nearly so impressive as your ability to read minds."

He laughed. "I shall choose to take that as a compliment rather than as a reflection of how badly out of practice I am with the carole."

His modesty extracted a smile from her. He had not placed a foot wrong during the entire dance, and he surely knew how well he carried a tune. Her brother, Wulfhere, would have drawn attention to his talents. She found that she much preferred Brecc's understated confidence—a confidence that she guessed could withstand a little teasing.

"You may if you wish. Though that is undoubtedly why I am receiving such pitying looks from the other young ladies in the circle," Aisley said. "They know that it is only a matter of time before you stand upon my feet."

He shook his head. "More fool me. I had hoped you would pay those astute ladies no mind. At least, not until your throbbing toes were too painful to ignore."

The carole's refrain began again, and as they rounded the corner beside the musicians, Brecc took an extra step and slid his foot into hers. Aisley gasped, her eyes instinctively darting to his face. Mirth twinkled in his dark-brown eyes, and she smothered a smile.

"Nicely done, sire," she said. "But I fear you will have to try that again." She tossed him a saucy look. "It seems that you missed my toes." Before he could respond, she turned away and began to sing.

She heard his chuckle above the music, and then he was singing too.