#
It was afternoon before I ventured from the kitchens, with a purloined loaf and a pork pie stashed in my bag. I found Wallen sitting in a corner of the Great Hall with Sharp’s lute in his lap. His face was swollen, with a bruise on one side, and he sullenly picked out the notes of a scale.
Great music, he was learning, comes through pain and hard work. He was also learning the lot of the abused and the helpless, the downtrodden, and those beneath his noble notice. This was becoming a bitter adventure for him – perhaps it would put some compassion in his heart.
At least I had the medicine for it. The thought of meeting his bride-to-be, and talking her into his trap, should lighten his spirits.
I knelt and reached for the bandages on his foot. He yanked it away, but I gently took it back.
He leaned forward. "You had no need to treat me like that. Have I even been anything but good to you?"
Not even thinking of how to answer that, I glanced around the hall. There were others present. Two soldiers were looking in our direction. I pressed my lips together firmly and jerked my head in their direction.
Wallen glared back. He said nothing more, however, and withstood my ministrations. I was able to finish, and when I signed a blessing, I let the note fall from my sleeve to the ground by his hand. I looked at it, then into his face, and smiled.
He glared back with ice hard eyes. He clenched his hand.
I rose quickly and walked off. This storm, like so many before it, would surely pass.
#
The glass garden at vespers, the note read. After the prayers I rushed to the dining hall, to see if Wallen showed any more hope, but he was not there. Neither was Sharp, leaving Lord Guerney to be entertained by a untalented minstrel. The ladies-in-waiting announced that their mistress was tired and would sup in her chambers. Charles caught my eye and grinned, but had no news. In the morning, I assumed, I would hear how the final act of our adventure would be.
It was not yet morning when I woke to the sound of someone climbing into the hayloft. I rolled over, thinking it was Peter come to fetch me for Matins – and looked into the face of the Captain of the Guard.
