BEING DEBONNAIRE
“I want,” said Guilhem, out of nowhere, “I want next Eastertide with my family.” Except that the word wasn’t family, it was gens — family/peers/kin. Artemisia was glad not to have to translate. “I want a new sword from Toledo, and a helmet. I want a shield that is cloven half way through. I want to look down upon the field of battle and feel alive. I want to live again.”
Artemisia felt sick. It was one thing to know that Guilhem lived in a warrior culture. It was another thing entirely to hear it as a wish list for a happy Christmas. Dear Santa, I want to murder ten people and get a model train and a giant lollipop.
“Why can’t you have that Eastertide?” Artemisia asked, tying to steer the conversation in the safer direction.
Guilhem’s eyes shuttered and he looked insid
