A Play of Knaves by Margaret Frazer

Author:Margaret Frazer [Frazer, Margaret]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub, mobi
Tags: Mystery, Medieval Britain, England, Mystery & Detective, Murder - Investigation, Fiction, 1399-1485, Great Britain - History - Lancaster and York, Great Britain, Actors, Historical, 1422-1461, Theatrical Companies, Great Britain - History - Henry VI, Great Britain - History - Henry VI; 1422-1461, Great Britain - History - Lancaster and York; 1399-1485
ISBN: 9780425211113
Google: 6-lnNnRjwGsC
Amazon: 0425211118
Publisher: Berkley
Published: 2006-08-02T04:00:00+00:00

He slept heavily and only reluctantly came awake to pale light through the tent’s canvas when the others began to stir and shift and crawl from their blankets. He resisted doing as much himself until Gil set back one flap to go outside, and said, “Oh. Euw.”

Basset echoed that, and Joliffe unburrowed his head to see a thick mist hiding the world beyond half a dozen yards away. The only brightness was from the flames that Rose was encouraging under a pot hung over the fire. “Something warm to set us on our way, I thought,” she said as Basset, Joliffe, Gil, and Piers joined her. “Even if only oatmeal.”

Basset gave a yawning stretch and asked, “Where’s Ellis gone?”

“Down to the stream. I’m supposing he’ll find his way back through this.”

“If I find him wandering, I’ll point him the right way,” Joliffe promised, took a towel from the two warming on the drying rack beside the fire, and set off to where he had to suppose the stream still was. The mist wreathed lightly among the trees and he heard the purl of water well before he saw it. Ellis, coming toward him, loomed dark-shaped out of the gray-whiteness, and Joliffe said as they passed, “It turned chill last night. Did you keep warm enough?”

“Shut it and put the bar across it,” Ellis said pleasantly and kept going.

“Double that from me, whelp,” Basset said cheerfully, closer behind than Joliffe had thought he was. He lightly slapped the back of Joliffe’s head, and Joliffe grinned, neither harmed nor chastened but making show of rubbing his head.

The morning’s first necessities seen to, the players mostly gathered around the fire to their breakfast of oat pottage. Only Piers among them was enjoying the damply shrouded morning, running in long loops out of and into sight through the mist, making strange noises for the sake of hearing what the mist did to them, until he came too close and his grandfather collared him, saying, “Finish eating so we can clear and get on the road.”

“It’s too hard to see for us to start out yet,” Piers protested.

“We’re not going at a mad gallop,” Basset said. “We’ll do well enough.”

“And if need be,” added Ellis, “we can always send you ahead to fall into any pits there may be before we get to them.”

Done with eating, they did what little was needed to be on their way. The tent, heavy with damp, was the worst part of it. Wherever they stopped and however they stayed tonight, they would have to have it out to dry lest it mold. While the others wrestled with it, Joliffe got Tisbe into harness and hitched to the cart. She showed her displeasure at that by butting her head into his chest, but he assured her, “No, truly, you know you’ll be glad to be on the road again. You were starting to find all this eating dull, weren’t you?” She butted him again, and not as if she agreed

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