Mary’s voice broke into her confused thoughts. “I hear that Lord Graelam has wed. She is, I am told, an heiress from Brittany.”
“Aye, she is from Brittany.”
“I cannot but feel sorry for her,” Mary said in a low voice. “I cannot imagine that Lord Graelam is an easy man.”
“No, he is not,” Kassia said. “Your daughter, does she resemble her father?”
“I do not believe so,” Mary said after a brief pause. “Why do you ask?”
Kassia closed her eyes a moment as she whispered, “My name is Kassia de Moreton.”
“I . . . I see,” Mary said in a voice so low Kassia barely heard her. “Do you see such a resemblance, then? I did not want to bring her to London, but my husband said no one would notice. He assured me that Glenda looks not one whit like Graelam.”
“It is not her features, but the expression when she laughed. Forgive me for making you uncomfortable. I will say nothing, I promise you.”
Mary forced a smile. “Thank you. Look, Chandra is preparing to shoot!”
To Kassia’s amazement, Chandra won the first round. The straw-filled circular targets stood at a distance of thirty feet. For the second round, the distance was doubled. The king won, by dint of a very lucky shot that split one of Chandra’s arrows. Kassia heard Chandra’s bright laughter as the targets were moved to an even greater distance.
“Sire,” she cried, “you have much improved! You are at last providing me with decent competition!”
“Ho, my lady!” the king said, drawing himself up to his full giant’s height. “We will see now who is the better.”
“I need my husband to provide some brawn,” Chandra said, shading her eyes as she looked at the distant targets.
Edward’s smile lasted only until he stepped forward. His eyes narrowed in concentration and his arm was steady. His arrow arched through the air and landed near the edge of the black center of the target.
“ ’Tis a pity the target is so distant,” Sir Jerval said to Graelam as he watched his wife prepare to shoot. “She has the eye of an eagle but not the strength for this distance.”
Chandra released her arrow and it soared gracefully toward the target, landing close to Edward’s.
“Well done!” Jerval shouted.
More haggling bets were laid, and Edward had to shout for silence before he took his next turn. There was a loud thud as his arrow embedded itself once again just inside the black center.
Chandra’s next arrow was carried by a sudden shift of the slight breeze to the outside edge of the target.
“I can hear her cursing from here,” Jerval said.
The same shifting breeze caught Edward’s arrow, and it missed the target altogether.
“By all the saints,” Graelam said. “I did not believe it possible!”
There was utter and complete silence as Chandra released her final arrow. It landed with a light thud near her first arrow, at the edge of the black center. Loud applause and shouting followed.
Edward grinned at her and blew her a kiss. “Forgive me, my lady,” he said, and released his final arrow. It smacked in the middle of the bull’s-eye, its feathered tip vibrating for some moments at the power of the shot.
“I do not suppose, sire,” Chandra said, “that you will believe I allowed you to beat me?”
Edward tossed his bow to one of his men, clasped her about her slender waist, and twirled her high above his head. “My lady,” he said, lowering her gently to the ground, “I would believe anything you chose to tell me!”
“You are too much the sporting winner, sire. Nay, the victory is yours.”
“Jerval, you lucky hound, come and rescue your wife before I abduct her!”
Kassia saw the glint of admiration in Graelam’s eyes as he watched Lady Chandra. A knot of resolve formed in her. He will look at me like that, she swore to herself. She turned about, but Mary was gone, her small daughter with her.
“I see that your bitch protectress is well-occupied,” Lady Joanna said from behind Kassia.