"From what?" Gareth asked.

"From you," William said helpfully. "Dalian says that we are risking our very lives by coming here to talk to you like this. He says you'll likely be violently angry but that we have to do it in order to protect Lady Clare."

Gareth put the parchment map down. Then he leaned back against the table, folded his arms, and considered the matter in silence for a moment. No one moved. The chamber grew very quiet.

"I am not angry," he said finally.

William heaved a loud sigh and then grinned. "I did not think that you would be." He promptly brought the meat pie out from behind his back and took a large bite. "I told Dalian that you likely had not hurt Clare last night."

"I appreciate your confidence in me," Gareth said. "What makes you so certain that I did not do your lady any great harm?"

William chewed. "Nothing seems amiss with her. She's in her usual good spirits. She is even now in her workrooms as she always is in the afternoons."

"Excellent reasoning, William," Ulrich said approvingly.

William preened. "Lady Clare says I am very intelligent."

"You are correct," Gareth said. "I did not harm your lady last night."

He looked at Dalian. "But apparently our minstrel does not agree. What do you propose to do, Dalian? Challenge me to trial by combat?"

William looked thunderstruck. "Combat?" he squeaked.

"Why not?" Gareth watched Dalian's face. "Tis the usual way such matters are settled when a lady's honor is at stake. Do you favor swords or daggers, Dalian?"

Dalian looked as though he were about to become ill. "My lord, I…

That is, my lady would never allow me to fight you."

"There's no need to consult Clare on this," Gareth said. "Tis a matter for men, is it not?"

"Ah, well?"

"I myself would prefer swords." Gareth glanced ruefully down at the linen bandage on his arm. "As you can see, I lack skill with the dagger. I have been known to have accidents."

Dalian paled. "You mock me, my lord."

"Do I?"

"I can hardly challenge you," Dalian sputtered. "You would kill me in an instant."

"Your point is well taken," Gareth said. "You are no doubt more clumsy with a sword than I am with a dagger. Mayhap we should remedy that fault."

Dalian's expression was that of the hare which sees the hawk swooping down on him. "What are you talking about?"

"I did not bring a large company of men with me to defend this isle,"

Gareth said. "Not everyone who served me wished to abandon the lucrative business of hunting outlaws in favor of becoming a gardener. Even my squire, Bradford, chose not to accompany me here to Desire."

"I expect hunting outlaws is very exciting," William said wistfully.

"Nay, 'tis a business like any other, although I'll admit it is more precarious than some careers," Gareth said. "And I cannot deny that it pays well, if one is proficient. But then, so does the business of making perfumes."

"Aye." William looked doubtful about equating the two endeavors.

"Tis not the financial aspects of Desire which concern me, however,"

Gareth continued. "That is Lady Clare's business. My task is to see to the safety of these lands and the people who live here. A sound defense requires that every man in this household be well trained in the use of arms."

"Lady Clare says that knights and men-at-arms are a great nuisance to have about underfoot," William said.

"Aye." Dalian sounded a bit bolder now. "Lady Clare doesn't care for men who make their living with their swords. She says her brother, Edmund, died because of his foolish love of tourneying. She says such pursuits are silly and that the sort of men who pursue them are altogether lacking in wits."

Ulrich gave Dalian and William a cool, knowing smile. "Your lady may not be overly fond of fighting men, but she was quick enough to choose a husband she believed to be capable of defending her lands and her people."

"She had no choice," Dalian muttered.

Gareth slanted Ulrich a wry glance. It was the truth and they both knew it. But for some reason, this morning, Gareth discovered that he did not particularly like hearing it voiced aloud.

"Whatever the reasons," Ulrich said, "it would seem that even Lady Clare has some use for a man who can use a sword."

William took another bite of pie. "My mother says that Lady Clare always puts her duty to her people ahead of all else."

"Tis a great pity that Lady Clare must sacrifice herself for the rest of us," Dalian said defiantly. "Tis not right."

"Enough," Gareth said quietly. "What's done is done. It only remains for me to earn my keep. And I intend to do just that."

Dalian scowled warily. "What do you mean?"

"As I said, the defense of these lands requires that every able-bodied man in the household be properly trained."

William munched his pie. "There aren't any able-bodied men in this household other than yourself and your men-at-arms, my lord."

"You look fit enough, William," Gareth said. "And you are, what? Ten years old?"

"Aye."

"Then 'tis past time you began a knight's training. When I was your age, I was already practicing regularly with lance and sword."

"Me? A knight?" William sucked in air and promptly choked on a mouthful of meat pie. "Nay, my lord. Tis not possible." He succumbed to a fit of coughing.

Ulrich strolled across the room and slapped William between the shoulder blades. "The first thing a future knight must learn is how to eat without strangling himself."

William's eyes watered. He sputtered, recovered, and managed to swallow the pie. He drew in several gasping breaths. "Lady Clare and my mother will never allow me to train to be a knight."

"Why not?" Gareth asked.

"I'm delicate."

Dalian glowered at Gareth. "That's right. They'll never allow young William to practice such skills."

"Lady Clare and Lady Joanna need not concern themselves with William's training. Such matters are my responsibility." Gareth eyed Dalian. "What about you, minstrel? How far did your training progress?"

"Huh?"

"Did you learn any useful skills before you took up the harp and began composing irritating ballads about young knights who cuckold their lords?"

Dalian looked seriously alarmed. "My former master was a scholar."

"A scholar?"

"Aye." Dalian's eyes shifted uneasily as though he were searching for a place to hide. "He raised me to assist him with his studies."

"Was he a trained knight?" Gareth asked.

"Aye, a very great knight. He even went on Crusade. But he said there was no point teaching me knightly skills." Dalian's lips trembled. "He said I was a clumsy weakling who could not be taught such things."

"You were raised in a scholar's household?"

"Aye." Dalian wiped his sweating brow on the back of his sleeve.

"Your father sent you to live in this scholar's hall?" Gareth probed.

"My father does not even know that I exist." Dalian jerked his arm back down to his side. "I don't know his name. I am a bastard, sir."

Gareth met Dalian's fierce, anguished gaze and knew the depths of the younger man's fear as well as his rage. "It would seem that you and I have something in common, minstrel."

Dalian clearly did not want to hear that. "At least you know your father's name. Thurston of Landry is a great lord. I know nothing of the man who sired me except that he was a knight on his way to a tourney. He found my mother alone in a field. He raped her and left her pregnant with me. He went on his way and never came back for either of us."

"You are not the only product of such an unpleasant union," Gareth said.

"You must find your own way in the world. At least you will have the satisfaction of knowing that everything you achieve will be won by your own hand. You may well discover that it is useful for a bastard to be able to handle a sword."