The Legend Read Free Page B

it! I thought I smelled
the essence!"
    Ivy closed her eyes, silently
beseeching God for patience. "Oh, Christ."
    Peyton watched with morbid
curiosity as Jubil bound from her chair, still squeezing the bit of 'eyeball'.
"I can use this, I can," she smiled at Peyton. "I shall use this
to divine your future, sweetheart. We will see what Lord Brian Summerlin has in
store for you."
    Peyton shook her head as Ivy
looked bored. "I do not want to know, Jubil. Truly."
    Jubil did not hear her. She
shuffled off, clutching her prize and mumbling to herself.
    "My God, Peyton. What are we
going to do with her?" Ivy demanded softly. "My appetite is
gone."
    "Your appetite is gone
because you ate everything but the bowls," Peyton said. They had long
since stopped figuring out what to do with Aunt Jubil.
    In the warm dining hall this
night, Peyton and her sister were alone save a few serving women and two
household guards. Since their father had been somewhat of a recluse, positive
any stranger or traveler had come to his doorstep for the sole purpose of
extracting his ale secrets, there had never been an overabundant amount of
activity at St. Cloven and the women were not lonely. They simply learned to
entertain themselves.
    "What is it tonight, Peyton?
Cards? Chess? Backgammon?" Ivy leaned back in her chair, stretching her
arms over her head.
    Peyton sat silently, listening to
the faint howl of a dog somewhere, the crackle of the fire in the massive stone
hearth.
    "Nothing, I think. I am
tired tonight."
    "And you are worried, as
well. Lord Brian promised you that he would decide your future by the end of
the month and that is in two days," she sat straight. "Mayhap when
the messenger comes, we will tell him you died in your sleep."
    Peyton smirked, running her hand
wearily over her face. "Not a bad idea, methinks. Oh, why can he not
simply leave us be? Why must we be wed? I do not want a husband."
    It was a plea, not a question.
Ivy shrugged. "Because St. Cloven needs a man to protect her,” she said.
“Mayhap your husband will come with an army of a thousand."
    "We do not need
protection," Peyton snapped softly. "Father's household troops have
proven quite adequate for many years. In fact, we did not even have soldiers
until twenty years ago when Warrington began making threats. 'Tis only because
of Nigel Warrington and his idiot son that we need men here at all. And as for
an army that would come attached to any future husband, they'll probably spend
all of their time in the ale barn drinking us into the poorhouse."
    "Tsk, tsk," he sister
admonished mockingly. “A prospective husband will not tolerate your nasty
temper."
    "Then that is his
misfortune," Peyton sniffed, rising wearily. "As for me, I shall
retire to bed and await my sentence.... I mean, ponder my destiny. Surely a
missive will come from Blackstone tomorrow. Lord Brian has had nearly a month
to decide what is to become of me."
    "Become of us ,"
Ivy reminded her.
    "Us," Peyton corrected.
"Good sleep, darling."
    "Good sleep," Ivy
watched her sister mount the stairs, her heart going out to the eldest de
Fluornoy sibling. She wasn't worried so much for herself, because a husband
meant very little in an emotional sense. But Peyton was still recovering from
the fierce loss of James, and was very vulnerable. Ivy still heard her crying
at night, bemoaning her loss.
    Ivy knew from watching her sister
that love was a terrible, sorrowful emotion and she herself vowed to never
succumb to the devastating weakness.
     
    ***
     
     
    Blackstone
Castle
     
    Lord Brian Summerlin sat hunched
over his carved oaken desk, pondering what he considered a most weighty
subject. Two contracts sat before him, drawn out and awaiting approval.  He sat
back and scratched his head; approval would not come easily.
    A rap sounded on his heavy oak
door, and the caller did not wait to be hailed entrance. Brian heard the
familiar footsteps, not bothering to glance up from his business. He knew who
it was