him uneasy, but then she was an elderly,
somewhat eccentric, and probably quite ill woman.
She grabbed her cane and hoisted herself to her feet again,
emitting a series of creaks from joints in the process. Once upright, she took
a moment to catch her breath again. “With your permission, Sir Thomas, I
believe I shall retire now. I need my rest.”
He stood to acknowledge her. When he sat again, he looked
across the table at Lady Juliana. He had expected amusement or the continuation
of her exasperation. Instead he saw fear in her eyes.
She masked it quickly when she realized he looked her way,
putting on a show of rueful amusement. “Please forgive my mother, Sir Thomas.
She means well, truly, though her manner is somewhat forward.”
“There’s naught to apologize for, my lady. Mothers are
allowed much by virtue of the lifetime of sacrifice and care they’ve given
their children. Are you her only child, since she lives with you now?”
“Aye. I had an older brother, who died young, and several
other brothers and sisters who died at birth.” The lady’s expression softened
in sympathy and love. “She has suffered much. And now her body is failing and
she suffers with that. Yet never does she voice any complaint.”
A manservant approached and waited for her attention. Lady
Juliana nodded to him and the man drew close and leaned over to say something
to her, speaking so low only she could hear. After a moment, she nodded. The
servant withdrew a bit, though he waited nearby, and she looked back at him.
“Your quarters are ready for you, if you wish to retire, Sir
Thomas.”
He’d stopped eating a few minutes past. His full belly
combined with the effects of an exhausting journey and the potent ale to bring
him to a point of having to expend all his energy to prevent his head from
drooping onto the table.
“My lady, I cannot tell you how pleasant is the prospect of
sleeping this night in a warm bed. I am more grateful than I can say for your
hospitality.” He stood, noting with some embarrassment that his own knees
creaked as he did so.
“If you’ll follow Daniel, he’ll show you the way.” She
nodded toward the waiting servant.
Thomas hoped he wouldn’t disgrace himself by tottering or
falling over in his exhaustion. He made it to his feet without incident and
bowed his goodnights to the lady.
“Good rest and sound sleep find you, Sir Thomas,” she
returned.
Ralf and Bertram followed behind as they trailed the manservant
along a corridor, up a flight of stairs, and then along another corridor.
Exhaustion couldn’t account totally for his lack of
alertness. Some of it also came simply from not expecting any threat in this
place. Only a mixture of instinct and luck kept him from being killed or
seriously injured.
The sound of a footstep well behind roused his awareness at
some deep level. He was already turning when he recognized a faint clicking
noise behind him as the sound of a crossbow bolt being released. He threw
himself back and to the side, knocking both Ralf and Bertram into the wall.
The bolt whizzed past him, close enough to tear the sleeve
of his shirt at his wrist, just below the edge of his chain mail hauberk, and
scrape across the flesh. He noted the sting as he whirled to go after whoever
had fired the bolt. The torches were widely spaced in this corridor, leaving
several recesses in deep shadow. He went to the one he thought closest to where
he’d find the shooter. A door there opened at his touch, but it gave onto a
steep stone staircase going down. He raced down the steps, but found no one in
sight in the corridor that led off it.
Thomas sighed and gave up. Too many doors offered places the
shooter might have ducked into. And clearly his assailant knew the keep far
better than he did. He wouldn’t find him.
As he neared the top of the steps again, a crowd of excited
people met him head-on. Ralf and Bertram led the group. “Are you well, my
lord?” Bertram asked.
At
somewhat eccentric, and probably quite ill woman.
She grabbed her cane and hoisted herself to her feet again,
emitting a series of creaks from joints in the process. Once upright, she took
a moment to catch her breath again. “With your permission, Sir Thomas, I
believe I shall retire now. I need my rest.”
He stood to acknowledge her. When he sat again, he looked
across the table at Lady Juliana. He had expected amusement or the continuation
of her exasperation. Instead he saw fear in her eyes.
She masked it quickly when she realized he looked her way,
putting on a show of rueful amusement. “Please forgive my mother, Sir Thomas.
She means well, truly, though her manner is somewhat forward.”
“There’s naught to apologize for, my lady. Mothers are
allowed much by virtue of the lifetime of sacrifice and care they’ve given
their children. Are you her only child, since she lives with you now?”
“Aye. I had an older brother, who died young, and several
other brothers and sisters who died at birth.” The lady’s expression softened
in sympathy and love. “She has suffered much. And now her body is failing and
she suffers with that. Yet never does she voice any complaint.”
A manservant approached and waited for her attention. Lady
Juliana nodded to him and the man drew close and leaned over to say something
to her, speaking so low only she could hear. After a moment, she nodded. The
servant withdrew a bit, though he waited nearby, and she looked back at him.
“Your quarters are ready for you, if you wish to retire, Sir
Thomas.”
He’d stopped eating a few minutes past. His full belly
combined with the effects of an exhausting journey and the potent ale to bring
him to a point of having to expend all his energy to prevent his head from
drooping onto the table.
“My lady, I cannot tell you how pleasant is the prospect of
sleeping this night in a warm bed. I am more grateful than I can say for your
hospitality.” He stood, noting with some embarrassment that his own knees
creaked as he did so.
“If you’ll follow Daniel, he’ll show you the way.” She
nodded toward the waiting servant.
Thomas hoped he wouldn’t disgrace himself by tottering or
falling over in his exhaustion. He made it to his feet without incident and
bowed his goodnights to the lady.
“Good rest and sound sleep find you, Sir Thomas,” she
returned.
Ralf and Bertram followed behind as they trailed the manservant
along a corridor, up a flight of stairs, and then along another corridor.
Exhaustion couldn’t account totally for his lack of
alertness. Some of it also came simply from not expecting any threat in this
place. Only a mixture of instinct and luck kept him from being killed or
seriously injured.
The sound of a footstep well behind roused his awareness at
some deep level. He was already turning when he recognized a faint clicking
noise behind him as the sound of a crossbow bolt being released. He threw
himself back and to the side, knocking both Ralf and Bertram into the wall.
The bolt whizzed past him, close enough to tear the sleeve
of his shirt at his wrist, just below the edge of his chain mail hauberk, and
scrape across the flesh. He noted the sting as he whirled to go after whoever
had fired the bolt. The torches were widely spaced in this corridor, leaving
several recesses in deep shadow. He went to the one he thought closest to where
he’d find the shooter. A door there opened at his touch, but it gave onto a
steep stone staircase going down. He raced down the steps, but found no one in
sight in the corridor that led off it.
Thomas sighed and gave up. Too many doors offered places the
shooter might have ducked into. And clearly his assailant knew the keep far
better than he did. He wouldn’t find him.
As he neared the top of the steps again, a crowd of excited
people met him head-on. Ralf and Bertram led the group. “Are you well, my
lord?” Bertram asked.
At