Crown of the Realm (A White Knight Adventure Book 2) by Jude Chapman

Author:Jude Chapman [Chapman, Jude]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Weatherly Books
Published: 2014-09-30T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 20

AFTER A LATE SUPPER and light entertainment to close the day, Alys invited Aveline to share her bed. “Two rewards for the price of one,” the comtesse said. “The comte won’t dare disturb our slumber and your reputation will remain intact.” Drake bowed to her wisdom, delivering chaste kisses, two for the comtesse and two for the daughter of an alewife.

Settling near the hearthfire, Drake raised a goblet to his lips at regular intervals. The sable rug spread beneath him somewhat softened the hardness of the oaken floor and the sourness of his mood. Others like him, lacking private chambers and comfortable beds, or preferring to tarry until the wee hours, lazed about in similar fashion, sharing conviviality and drink. Chauvigny, Béthune, and Fors repaired to a corner and took up a game of dice. Rand curled up on a pallet, a woolen blanket gathered about his shoulders. Balanced over his heels, Devon hovered not far from his master.

“You survived incarceration, Devon of Wheeling. And with three such seasoned knights. I hope they didn’t take advantage of your inexperience.”

Chauvigny called out from across the hall. “Of course we did!”

“They taught me many things,” Devon said, his trusting eyes flying between André and Drake. “Such as how to find my way under a lass’s skirts, how to cheat at dice, and how to get drunk without swooning.”

“The basics,” Béthune threw back.

Devon chuckled into his cup while Louis de Blois painfully lowered himself onto a nearby stool. His face awash with the flames of the hearth, he leaned into the heat, occasionally looking asquint at Drake. For a long while the three lads sat in respectful silence. A wordless truce evolved.

Intruding on their growing torpor, Guillaume des Barres kicked away a sleeping dog and sat among them on the rush-strewn floor. As he lifted a goblet to his lips, his eyes stared into the soporific flames. When he finally used it, his voice was lethargic with wine and fatigue. “What do you propose to do now?”

Rousing himself from near-sleep, Drake shifted onto his side.

“Now that you’ve been absolved of shooting a stray arrow or two, it behooves you to point a finger, which seems to be twisting in an easterly direction.” His eyebrows raised on a slant. “If you did not know already, I will inform you. The king of France does not encourage regicide. Even if he did, what would he have to gain?”

“An English king he can more easily kick out of Normandy. Like you just did that hound.”

The knight’s disfiguring scar puckered. “Oui, but if anything happened to your king, my king would lose his most interesting chess partner.”

“John is nearly as much fun to play with as Richard.”

The knight’s brown gaze was direct. “You’ve had occasion to play?”

Drake peered over the rim of his chalice. “Since childhood days. Come to think, John is too easy to beat. Any victory would hold little meaning.”

“Everyone knows him to be hot-headed and unpredictable.”

“He also cheats. And lies.”

The knight speculatively cocked his head.

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