Whiter than the Lily by Alys Clare

Author:Alys Clare [Clare, Alys]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781444726688
Publisher: Hodder & Stoughton
Published: 2011-12-07T16:00:00+00:00

12

The long June day kept its light late and Josse did not make camp until dusk was at long last falling. He had covered many miles that afternoon and he reckoned he could not be far from his destination. The riding had been easy for much of the way, for he had taken a route that ran along the southern edges of the northern High Weald and the track was level and reasonably well maintained. The long dry spell, however, meant that the surface of the road had been pulverised to fine dust, which clouded up around him as Horace’s big feet repeatedly struck the baked ground. As he had saddled the horse prior to leaving Hawkenlye, Sister Martha had watched his preparations.

‘You’ll need more than those two blankets of yours to keep you comfortable if you’re planning to sleep in the open,’ she had observed.

Turning to her with a smile, he said, ‘Will I?’

‘Aye. There’s rain coming.’

He had stared at her for an instant in total disbelief; he had rarely known a spell of such relentlessly fine, hot, dry weather. ‘Are you sure, Sister?’

‘Quite sure.’ She held out a square of some folded material, loosely wrapped in sacking; it was quite heavy and decidedly malodorous. ‘You’d better take this.’

He took it from her gingerly. ‘What is it?’

‘Linen treated with tallow. It’ll keep the wet out.’

‘Er – thank you, Sister.’ Even as he spoke, he was wondering where he could pack it so that its aroma would not be constantly under his nose.

As if she knew perfectly well what he was thinking, she laughed. ‘Aye, I know it’s none too sweet, but you’ll be grateful for it, Sir Josse, you mark my words!’

Faced with such certainty, he had conceded defeat and stowed the stinking cloth behind his saddle.

Now, settling for the night, he put the cloth package as far away from him as possible. He soon had a small fire going – there was plenty of kindling and dry wood about, there on the edge of the woodlands that cloaked the northern hills – and everything was bone-dry. For safety’s sake he made a hearth of stones to contain the little blaze. He put water in a pot and in it threw some strips of meat and some root vegetables. When his makeshift stew was ready, he began his meal by dipping chunks of dry bread into the rich, hot gravy.

He was so hungry that he could have eaten virtually anything but, fortunately, the Hawkenlye victuals were as usual very good and his meal was delicious.

As he settled for sleep – under a darkening sky still entirely innocent of cloud – he went over in his mind the plan for tomorrow. Now that he was nearing his goal, the directions that Audra had provided were beginning to seem a little paltry. The Saxon Shore, she had said – well, that was relatively easy. As a military man, Josse had been taught about the Romans and the line of forts they

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