Whited Sepulchres by C B Hanley

Author:C B Hanley
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780750958837
Publisher: The History Press
Published: 2014-08-15T16:00:00+00:00

Joanna felt the excitement rising within her as the party left the castle. She didn’t ride very often, as it wasn’t one of Isabelle’s preferred pastimes; and when they travelled to one of the earl’s other residences she generally sat pillion behind a groom or endured the jolting of a covered wagon. But now she felt the unaccustomed sensation of being in control as she sat astride her own mount – admittedly, a staid palfrey which Sir Gilbert had thoughtfully asked Eustace to find for her – and trotted behind the nobles. Once they had passed through the village and left the tilled fields behind, they increased their pace to a canter, and she welcomed the rush of air on her face on such a hot day.

They rode for a couple of miles westwards along the low road which ran parallel to the river, until they reached a green open space – in the winter it was marshy, but now it was a firm surface underfoot which sloped gently towards the reeds which lined the river. Here they reined in while the huntsmen dismounted, passed the birds over to the nobles and took their dogs over towards the riverbank.

Joanna didn’t have a bird of her own, but she nudged her mount nearer to Isabelle to see if she could be of any assistance with the tiny merlin which was now perching on her mistress’s decorative glove. Isabelle seemed to be fine, so Joanna took the opportunity to admire the much larger hawks which the men held. It was ironic, of course, that it was actually the female birds, the falcons, which were more sought after than the male tiercels, because they were bigger and more ferocious. A strange inversion of the natural order.

The earl was stroking the head of the bird which he held, while effortlessly controlling his mount with his legs and talking to Sir Gilbert at the same time. ‘Lucky to be out this late in the year. My favourite hawk is already in moult, so I’ve had to bring this one – she’s younger and not fully trained, but we’ll see what she can do.’ The bird, unhooded and slightly unkempt, looked lean and fierce as its eyes seemed to meet Joanna’s, but then it was gone, soaring into the air to climb up above where the prey might be, circling along with two others sent by Sir Gilbert and William Fitzwilliam. The huntsmen were beating the reeds and crying out, and with a flurry a number of wild ducks flapped and took off.

The earl’s falcon dropped like a stone out of the sky, diving at speed to kill an unsuspecting duck which fell to earth. Another falcon performed similarly, but the third hadn’t struck so truly and engaged in a kind of shrieking combat before it finished its kill. The men cheered, the ladies applauded, and the dogs were sent to pick up the dead birds. The huntsmen took out their lures – pieces of meat with the wings of another dead bird attached, and swung them round to entice the falcons back.

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