The night thundered. Ragged bolts of lightning shattered the darkness as clouds rolled in from the west. Roland stood on the southern tower watching the display. Since dinner his mood had been as dark as the western sky. The day had not gone well. First he had felt troubled by his conversation with Arutha by the gate. Then Carline had treated him at dinner with the same stony silence he had endured since their meeting on this very tower two weeks earlier Carline had seemed more subdued than usual, but Roland felt a stab of anger at himself each time he chanced a glance in her direction. Roland could still see the pain in the Princess’s eyes. “What a witless fool I am,” he said aloud.
“Not a fool, Roland.”
Carline was standing a few paces away, looking toward the coming storm. She clutched a shawl around her shoulders, though the air was temperate. The thunder had masked her footfalls, and Roland said, “It is a poor night to be upon the tower, my lady.”
She came to stand beside him and said, “Will it rain? These hot nights bring thunder and lightning, but usually little rain.”
“It will rain. Where are your ladies?”
She indicated the tower door. “Upon the stairs. They fear the lightning, and besides, I wished to speak with you alone.”
Roland said nothing, and Carline remained silent for a time. The night was sundered with violent displays of energy tearing across the heavens, followed by cracking booms of thunder. “When I was young,” she said at last, “Father used to say on nights such as this the gods were sporting in the sky.”
Roland looked at her face, illuminated by the single lantern hanging on the wall. “My father-told me they made war.”
She smiled “Roland, you spoke rightly on the day Lyam left. I have been lost in my own grief, unable to see the truth. Pug would have been the first to tell me that nothing is forever. That living in the past is foolish and robs us of the future.” She lowered her head a little. “Perhaps it has something to do with Father. When Mother died, he never fully recovered. I was very young, but I can still remember how he was. He used to laugh a great deal before she died. He was more like Lyam then. After . . . well, he became more like Arutha. He’d laugh, but there’d be a hard edge to it, a bitterness.”
“As if somehow mocking?”
She nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, mocking. Why did you say that?”
“Something I noticed . . . something I pointed out to your brother today. About Martin Longbow.”
She sighed. “Yes, I understand. Longbow is also like that.”
Softly Roland said, “Nevertheless, you did not come to speak of your brother or Martin.”
“No, I came to tell you how sorry I am for the way I’ve acted. I’ve been angry with you for two weeks, but I’d no right. You only said what was true. I’ve treated you badly.”
Roland was surprised. “You’ve not treated me badly, Carline. I acted the boor.”
“No, you have done nothing but be a friend to me, Roland. You told me the truth, not what I wanted to hear. It must have been hard . . . considering how you feel.” She looked out at the approaching storm. “When I first heard of Pug’s capture, I thought the world ended.”
Trying to be understanding, Roland quoted, “ ‘The first love is the difficult love.’ ”
Carline smiled at the aphorism. “That is what they say. And with you?”
Roland mustered a carefree stance. “So it seems, Princess.”
She placed her hand upon his arm. “Neither of us is free to feel other than as we do, Roland.”
His smile became sadder. “That is the truth, Carline.”
“Will you always be my good friend?”
There was a genuine note of concern in her voice that touched the young Squire. She was trying to put matters right between them, but without the guile she’d used when younger. Her honest attempt turned aside any frustration he felt at her not returning his affections fully. “I will, Carline. I’ll always be your good friend.”
She came into his arms and he held her close, her head against his chest. Softly she said, “Father Tully says that some loves come unbidden like winds from the sea, and others grow from the seeds of friendship.”
“I will hope for such a harvest, Carline. But should it not come, still I will remain your good friend.”
They stood quietly together for a time, comforting each other for different causes, but sharing a tenderness each had been denied for two years. Each of them was lost in the comfort of the other’s nearness, and neither saw what the lightning flashes revealed for brief instants. On the horizon, beating for the harbor, came a ship.