Monday, August 17, 2009

Chapter 12.4

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There was nothing I could do for Peter, but to arrange him comfortably. I went up to the great hall where the dinner was well underway. Sharp again played for delicate tidbits while Wallen crouched, miserable, by the cold door.

Wallen’s feet needed attention. I set to work with salve and clean rags, then looked at his face. It was red and swollen, as if he had been hit hard.

"I couldn’t sleep last night," he muttered. "The floor is too hard. And all day I had to practice on that damned lute. I kept making mistakes. I don’t think I’m going to survive this."

I put salve on his bleeding finger tips, and wondered about his face.

Just then the door to the Ladies’ tower opened, and two women walked out. One was the Lady Victoria, who examined me with a critical eye, and the other was the Lady Laurice. She swept her skirts back from a prominent belly and announced, "Tonight I will eat with the company."

"She is pregnant." Thankfully, Wallen spoke in a quiet voice, or he might have been heard throughout the silent hall. "She sticks out a full mile."

I shook my head as gently as I could, aware of the gazes from both the Lady Victoria and the Steward. I dared say nothing now.

"And I say she is." His voice raised in volume, catching the attention of nearby diners.

I made a swift, subtle motion for him to be quiet, and finished with his feet. I needed to leave.

He grabbed my arm angrily. "Talk to me, damn it."

Twisting free, I hastily blessed his feet, then added, to remind him of his place here, "Heathen child."

"What!" He jumped to his feet and cuffed my head. I scurried to the side, but he jumped on me and hit me again. There was anger, pent-up and fermented, in that blow, and he started to give me another one. He may not have inherited a full measure of his father’s cruelty, but he did have the Old Lord’s temper.

Sharp caught his hand, and pulled the attention of the room away from me. "What is this?"

"He insulted me!"

"What did he do – stick out his tongue?" This brought laughter from, and only from, the Lady Victoria. "You need a lesson, child. You do not – hit – a – Silent Monk."

In each pause, he backhanded Wallen across his face, and there was no playful acting here. Then Sharp turned to Lord Guerney with a bow, "Please forgive the interruption, my Lord. My apprentice is new, and very rude."

Wallen clenched his fists as he lay in the straw. He turned his face toward me, and I saw fury among the specks of blood.

I fled.

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