Valley of Dry Bones by Priscilla Royal Read Free Book Online

mischievous wink, Gytha gave the crowner obeisance proper to their difference in rank and disappeared out the door.
    Ralf knew he was grinning like a boy.
    Fulke had pulled himself back onto the bench and was reaching for a mazer. “Assault on king’s man. Arrest you,” he croaked, rubbing uselessly at the muck on his robe left by his brother’s foot. “Filth. Costly.”
    “Honest dirt. More honest than the night soil you roll in at court. As for arresting me, think again about the consequences. You claim that no rational man would ever live in this land. If you did not have me as your crowner, King Edward might insist you take up residence in Tyndal village in my stead.” He looked into the jug and poured his brother some cider. “This is better drink than you deserve.”
    With a grimace, Fulke swallowed it and held out the mazer for more.
    Ralf drew the jug back. “What did you say or do to Tostig’s sister before I arrived?”
    “Little enough.”
    “She is Prioress Eleanor’s maid, you pocky boor. If you so much as brushed her robe…”
    “A lay sister?” To his credit, Fulke paled.
    “Nay, but she was a virgin before you came here.”
    “And remains so.”
    Ralf poured more into the cup and set the jug down. “Why did you come to trouble me?”
    Fulke swallowed with a wince. “Your daughter needs a proper mother. I have a wife for you.”
    “To be more precise, you have hatched another plot involving land.”
    “Richer ground for farming and located in a place better suited to the raising of sheep. Even your befuddled wits must understand that wool is profitable.”
    “What advantage comes to you from this?”
    He shrugged. “Did you care the last time I found a suitable wife for you?”
    “You do naught unless you benefit. I later learned my wife’s brother sided with you on a scheme that brought you both increased wealth.”
    “And did your marriage bring you nothing you value?” Fulke replied, brushing aside his brother’s accusation with a sweep of his hand.
    Ralf nodded readily enough as he gestured toward the sound of his daughter’s voice outside.
    “Your child, of course,” Fulke said, “and this lovely bit of muck as well, near the village you so adore. All of which, I must remind you, reverts to your daughter and her husband when she comes of an age to marry. I hope you are making use of the income now to buy land for yourself.”
    “Any profit is used to improve my daughter’s birthright from her mother. As for me, I earned enough spoils from my days as a mercenary to live on.”
    “Live like a wild boar, you mean. You need another wife with land who can bear sons, Ralf, or are your wits so addled that you have forgotten how a man is best served by seeding boys in fertile women?”
    “Then do your duty, brother, and leave me alone.”
    “My wife has birthed many dead babes and now seems no longer able to bear. Odo has either truly chosen chastity or else hides his bastards. It seems God has cursed our family. Whatever I might prefer in this matter, our very survival lies in your loins. If it makes you happier, I would have chosen the matter to be otherwise.”
    Ralf looked away.
    “I promise you she is a good woman. You and I may be ill-matched as brothers, but I have never abused you.”
    “Not since I grew tall enough to abuse you back.” The crowner gazed at his hands. “Nay, the woman you had me wed was a better creature than I deserved. I do not doubt that this current one is much the same.”
    “Then you agree?” Fulke’s eyes widened with delight.
    “I refuse.” Ralf stood up and walked to the door, closing it firmly.
    “Surely you have not become besotted, once again, with Anne, the physician’s daughter…”
    “…who married John and took vows with him at Tyndal Priory? Nay.” He leaned his back against the door.
    “Then what objection could you possibly have for rejecting a profitable alliance which also brings your child a mother?”
    “My reason