After Flodden by Rosemary Goring

Author:Rosemary Goring
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781846972720
Publisher: BirlinnPolygon
Published: 2013-05-14T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

8 October 1513

When Crozier reached the keep, day was fading. Smoke rose from the kitchen fires, deepening the dusk. He dismounted on the path that led to the gate, and filled his lungs with the scent of woodland. He walked briskly. He had ridden through relentless rain, but beneath his sodden cloak his hose and tunic dripped from the dousing he had taken in the river Tweed, as he scrubbed away the nightsoil cart’s stench. No amount of water, though, could clear the gaol from his mind. He shivered, and rubbed his hands.

In the keep’s yard he found his mother, arms folded. The bosses on her wimple quivered like the horns of an angered cow. ‘A fine thing to do, laddie,’ she said, ‘leaving me these past days with two turtle doves from the city, and a boy with a stomach as deep as a well. If he is here much longer, I will need to bring out the salted beef.’

‘It was necessary, mother,’ he said. ‘They’ll be gone soon, believe me.’ He led the mare to the water trough. ‘Has the king’s man got to his feet yet?’

‘Yes, although the way he looks at that girl, he’d maybe prefer to be on his back a while longer.’

An expression of distaste crossed her son’s face, but he said nothing as he made for the stables.

Hob emerged, a bristle brush in one hand, a half-eaten apple in the other. Since coming to the keep he had changed from a white-faced child to a ruddy, bright-eyed stable-boy. ‘Evening, sir,’ he said, looking at the horse and not the man. Crozier hesitated, then handed over the reins. ‘Do you know how to rub her down?’ he asked. ‘She needs a good drubbing. It’s been a long ride.’

Hob nodded, as he led her to her stall. ‘I looked after my faither’s cuddies and horses. I know one end frae the other.’

‘I’ll be back shortly,’ said Crozier. ‘See she gets a good feed too.’

‘Aye, aye.’

In the great hall, Louise sat on the fireside’s lip, the vixen at her feet. When she saw Crozier, she rose. The hounds raced to greet their master, but with a curt command he sent them back to their places. His face tightened at the scene. From a winged seat in front of the fire, the courtier eyed him. His arm dangled over the chair, his emerald ring brighter in the tallow-light than the narrowed eyes above them. A less prosaic man might have read a threat in the ease with which the stranger occupied his hearth. Crozier saw only insolence, the braggadocio of a royal fop whose tricks, in this place, were useless.

He addressed Louise, who had guessed the message from his weary step: ‘Ma’am, I have no success to report. No-one matching your brother’s description lies in the gaol. No-one, indeed, had heard of him, or knew him.’

Louise made a sound, and sat down again by the fire. She washed her hands in her lap. ‘Nothing?’ she said, ‘No-one?’

Crozier moved towards her, but the courtier was faster.

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