once.

"Little, my King. I was but ten years old when we fled," I answered
therefore.

"That is likely. But would you go back there? As the Thane of
Eastdean, I mean; for I know that you would wish to see the place
where your father lies."

I could not answer him this at once, for it was indeed a matter
that needed thought. So I said, and he turned to his writings with
a nod and left me to myself.

In all these thoughts of mine, pleasant as they were with some
memories, it had never come to me to wish that the lands were mine
again. Save for that one thing of which Ina spoke, and for the
pleasantness of seeing old scenes again, I had never cared to go
back. Owen had not spoken of the lands that should have been mine
for years, and even as he talked with me and Gerent he had not
seemed to remember that old loss at all. Gerent had done so, saying
that I should be back there, but even that did not stir me now. I
was of the court, and here I had my place, and all my life was knit
with the ways of the atheling guard and the ordering of the
house-carles under Owen. If I were to turn from all this to become
a forest thane it would be banishment.

And then I thought of Owen, and how this would take me yet farther
from him. I would sooner, if I must be sent from Ina, go to him and
find what home I might on the lands of Tregoz in wild Dartmoor. And
then the thought of leaving Ina, who had cared for me since I was a