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Page 521
God for his own and his father's escape and try to forget the rest.
"What does the king?" he asked next.
Ian looked uneasily toward the door, but no one came to rescue him. Suddenly, it occurred to him that this long interval of privacy must be deliberate. Alinor would certainly know, even if Joanna did not, how long it would take him to look at Geoffrey's wound and give his judgment upon it. One or another of the women would have been in the room very soon after that if they were opposed to his talking freely with Geoffrey. He had visited him often before, and either Joanna or Alinor stood at his elbow to be sure he spoke little and that little in the right words.
That meant that they wanted him to give Geoffrey the news, that they would have told it to him themselves, except for fearing he would think the truth even more horrible than what they related. Ian looked at Geoffrey and bowed to the judgment of his womenfolk. Geoffrey was excited by the opening of his prison of sickness, but even after the effort of taking off and replacing part of his clothing, it was clear it was doing him no harm. His eyes were bright, his color good, and his gestures easy, displaying none of the slow, leaden character of fatigue. He was too sensitive still, too easily moved to tears, but that would wear off. Ian dragged a chair nearer the one Geoffrey was sitting in, sat down, and stretched his long legs.
"Have some wine," he said, smiling and filling two goblets.
He then did a swift look and look-again at the goblets and flagon, which Geoffrey did not notice because he was now looking nervously toward the door. Ian chuckled. The women were right. Geoffrey was eager to start living again. He was looking at that door like a prisoner, fearing the arrival of a keeper who would put to an end a deeply desired visit.
"Be easy and have some wine," Ian said, grinning more broadly.
Geoffrey's eyes went to the flagon and goblets at which

 
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