Lords of the White Castle by Elizabeth Chadwick

me to tread lightly on your pride for you are almost a man grown, and yet she weeps at the notion of you joining that world.'
    'She didn't weep when I went to court,' Fulke pointed out.
    'Not in front of you, no, but she shed a few tears in private.' Le Brun frowned thoughtfully. 'I think the firstborn and the youngest are the most difficult to send out from the nest. Besides, the royal court might be a dangerous place, but it is ten times safer than an untamed country across the sea.'
    'Should I go to her?' Fulke asked, prepared to do so, but not particularly relishing the notion. He had always viewed his mother as stronger than steel, had never thought of her as being prey to fear. She had instilled in him the confidence not to be afraid of new challenges and situations, so he had always assumed she was invulnerable herself. Apart from assuring her that he would come to no harm, he had no idea what to say. Given the chessboard incident with Prince John, he doubted his line of argument would be very convincing.
    'No, leave her a while to gather her composure,' his father said, to Fulke's relief. 'Time enough to speak when she measures you for a new tunic'
    'I'm to have a new tunic too,' William announced loudly. 'And I'm going away to be a squire as well.'
    Glad of the diversion, Fulke turned to his brother. 'Where?' he asked. As far back as Fulke could remember William had wanted to be a knight, to wear mail and carry a sword at his hip. Not just with a boy's longing, but with a single-minded passion that was almost adult in its determination.
    'To Caus, to Robert Corbet,' William said, his chin jutting with pride. 'And I'm to have a new pony too.'
    Fulke made an interested sound. Robert Corbet was a neighbouring lord and a man of some influence in the Marches. Indeed, he was their overlord in respect of several manors including one of their major residences at Alberbury, and the Corbets had strong ties with the royal line of Gwynedd. Whilst not acquiring the polish of Henry's court, William would obtain a sound grounding.
    'I'm going too,' announced eleven-year-old Philip, not to be outdone. He was somewhat quieter than William and Ivo, more thoughtful and less likely to act upon the goad of the moment. He was also the only one of the brothers to possess the copper-auburn hair of the de Dinan line, everyone else being raven-black.
    'Are you indeed?' Fulke raised his brows and smiled.
    'Me too, me too!' cried little Alain, plainly not sure what was being discussed but making sure that he was not left out.
    'Don't be silly, you're only four,' Ivo scoffed. 'You have to stay in the bower with Mama and her ladies. So does Richard.' He jerked his head at another little boy, who had eaten a gargantuan breakfast and was still quietly stuffing his face.
    Adroitly averting the storm, Fulke rose to his feet and plucked young Alain into his arms. 'But he doesn't today,' he said. 'Who wants to come and practise with swords on the tilt ground?'
    The yell was unanimous.
    Fulke le Brun grinned broadly. 'I'll go and get mine,' he said.
     
    'Your father says that your swordplay has improved beyond all recognition,' Hawise said. She turned Fulke to face the window embrasure and measured him from knob of spine to mid-knee with a length of twine in which she tied knots to mark the length.
    'Lord Theobald's a good tutor.' He looked out of the open shutters on the raw January afternoon. William was leading his brothers in a pretend raid across the bailey and berating the youngest two for not keeping up. A midden heap defended by their father's squires, Baldwin and Stephen, was their target.
    Weapons practice that morning had fired William's enthusiasm to a state of near frenzy. It was as if he believed that the harder he battled, the sooner the time would pass to his attainment of knighthood—if he didn't get himself killed first. Lord Theobald said that superior fighting ability was a blend of instinct and intelligence. A good leader had to be