Oswald the Thief by Jeri Westerson

Author:Jeri Westerson [Westerson, Jeri]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Medieval
Publisher: Dragua Press
Published: 2022-03-27T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

IT WAS WORSE than I thought. Geoff had begun sneaking out in the midst of the night and I’d catch him returning before the cock crowed. God’s teeth! If I couldn’t trust Geoff, then I couldn’t trust nobody!

I went in search of Walter, for he had a level head if any man had one. He might give me some sorely needed advice.

I waited at his door until Sibbe deigned to open it. And then—that exasperating woman!—she stood and stared at me with nary a word spoken. Finally, I’d had enough.

“Woman, I’m at my wit’s end. Tell your master I wish to see him!”

“Can’t.”

“And why, by all the saints, can’t you?”

“Because he is not at home.” She grinned, a toothless smug sort of grimace.

“But it’s not yet Prime!” Walter was always home. Where else would he go, and so early in the day?

“He’s not been home many a morn, lately,” she said, haughty as you please. “And before you ask me, I don’t know where he goes. And even if I did know I wouldn’t tell you. It started with all your secret doings. I don’t like it, Oswald. I don’t like your meddling in Master Walter’s affairs. You are a bad influence on him!” With that, she slammed the door in my face.

No doubt Walter was up to the tasks I had set him, but it was frustrating when I needed to speak with him about Geoff. Maybe I was being a fool. Maybe there was nothing to it. Just the same, I kept my plans to m’self, telling each companion only that which they needed to know. That way they couldn’t slip and tell Geoff. But the plan had to go forth. There was Lord de Mandeville to worry over and Geoff. His safety was foremost. And Alison. She was depending on me.

I took my worry with me to the fields and copses above London where I practiced with the crossbow. Geoff hounded me to know what it was to be used for, but I kept my lips shut up tight. “Only when you need to know,” I told him. And it was true. Not a moment before.

The crossbow helped keep my mind off my troubles and it didn’t hurt that it was a weapon neither! I satisfied myself with shooting at trees. There was no one there but me and sheep. Might have been Walter’s sheep at that, but no. I had him run them up on Tower Hill to keep watch. And de Mandeville had newly sent me the map which gave me a much better idea as to how to form my plans. It would work. I knew it would.

I cranked the crossbow’s windlass again and placed the quarrel in place. It was a simple thing to aim and pull the lever. Clever, truly. Wish I’d invented it. But I’d invented many such devices and it was time to see if some of them would come to bear fruit.

The quarrel left the bow and shot away fairly straight and far.

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