Read Online Hawkmistress! by Marion Zimmer Bradley - Free Book Online

not, to die with the flesh burnt from their very bones? As if it mattered to me, or to any reasonable man, which great donkey kept the throne warm with his royal backsides while better men went about their business?”
    Romilly could see that Alderic was ready with a sharp answer, but he bowed and said nothing; he would not offend his host. Mallina was introduced to Alderic and simpered up at him, while Romilly watched in disdain - anything in breeches, she thought, and Mallina willingly practices her silly womanish wiles on him, even this shabby political refugee Darren picked up at Nevarsin and brought home, no doubt to give the boy a few good meals - he looked thin as a rake, and no doubt, at Nevarsin, they feed them on porridge of acorns and cold water!
    Mallina was still chattering to the young men.
    “And the folk from Storn Heights are coming, and the sons and daughters of Aldaran of Scathfell, and all during the Midsummer-festival there will be parties and hawkings and hunts, and a great Midsummer-dance-” and she slanted her long-lashed eyes at Alderic and said, “Are you fond of dancing, dom Alderic?”
    “I have done but little dancing since I was a child,” said Alderic, “I have danced only the clodhopper-dances of the monks and novices when they dance together at midwinter - but I shall expect you to teach them to me, damisela.” He bowed to her and to Romilly, but Mallina said, “Oh, Romilly will not dance with men - she is more at home in the stables, and would rather show you her hawks and hounds!”
    “Mallina, go to your lessons,” said Luciella, in a voice that clearly said, I’ll deal with you later, young lady. “You must forgive her, dom Alderic, she is only a spiteful child.”
    Mallina burst into tears and ran out of the room, but Alderic smiled at Romilly and said, “I too feel more at ease in the company of hawks and horses than that of women. I believe one of the horses we brought from Nevarsin is yours?”
    “It belonged to-” Darren caught his father’s scowl and amended, “a relative of ours; he left it in Nevarsin to be returned to us.” But Romilly intercepted the glance that passed between Darren and Alderic and knew that her brother had confided the whole story to his friend. How far, she wondered, had that scandal spread, that the son of The MacAran had quarreled with his family and fled to a Tower?
    “Romilly,” said her father, “should you not be in the schoolroom with Mistress Callinda?”
    “You promised me a holiday on my birthday,” Romilly reminded her stepmother, and Luciella said with an ill grace, “Well, as I have promised - I suppose you want to spend the time with your brother. Go, then, if you wish.”
    She smiled at her brother and said, “I would like to show you my new verrin hawk.”
    “Romilly trained it herself,” Rael burst out, while her father frowned. “When Davin was sick. She waited up all night until it would feed, and the hawkmaster said that father could not have done better himself.”
    “Aye,” The MacAran said roughly, “your sister has done what you would not do, boy - you should take lessons from her in skill and courage! Would that she had been the boy, and you the maiden, so that you might put skirts about your knees and spend the day in scribbling and embroidering within the house-“
    Darren flushed to the roots of his hair. He said, “Do not mock me before my friend, Father. I will do as well as I am able, I pledge to you. But I am as the Gods made me, and no other. A rabbithorn cannot be a war-horse and will only become a laughing-stock if he should try.”
    “Is that what they have taught you among the damned monks?”
    “They taught me that what I am, I am,” said Darren, and Romilly saw the glint of tears in his eyes, “and yet, Father, I am here at your will, to do my poor best for you.” Romilly could hear, as plain as if the forbidden name had been spoken, it is not my fault that I am not Ruyven, nor was it