Read Online Candle in the Window by Christina Dodd - Free Book Online

wiggling them. “Raymond, is that you?” he
asked when another set of footsteps advanced into the room.
    “Well met, William,” Raymond said.
“We hunted the day away, and rode in to sup with you. We left
Arthur in the bailey with his hand up a wench’s
skirt.”
    “As always.” He laughed. “I bid
you welcome. And where is Nicholas?”
    He jumped when a quiet voice close to him said,
“Here I am.”
    “God’s teeth, I should have known you
could still creep up on me.” He held out an arm, and Nicholas
grasped it at the elbow. “Well met, Nicholas. Lady
Saura?”
    “At once, my lord.” She blundered away
and was rescued by Maud’s hand on her arm. In silence, the
older woman showed her her location. “Put up the trestle
tables,” Saura ordered as she found her bearings. “Draw
ale and wine and bring cheese and bread. Hurry the meal
arrangements. Tell the cook to prepare cabbage soup and aforce the
stew with barley. And Maud,” she lowered her voice,
“escort me to a more private spot.”
    The serving woman led her behind a darkened support
arch. “Will these three cause us trouble,
m’lady?”
    “I don’t know,” Saura murmured.

“Perhaps.”
    Sandaled feet thumped on the floor as servants
scurried to do her bidding and the three guests hauled their own
benches to the newly erected tables. She heard the scraping noise
as old Bartley dragged William’s chair to the center of the
table and murmured, “Here ye are, m’lord.”
    William carefully seated himself in the place of
honor, and she tensed; a pewter pitcher clinked and liquid splashed
intoa goblet. The stream grew thinner as the
cup filled. The sound ceased.
    “Well done, William,” exclaimed Raymond
and Saura sighed with silent relief.
    Pushing the cup across the wooden table slab, he
said, “Take it, and avail yourself of cheese and bread. My
father is out in the woods, teaching the lads to ride without
hands. We’ll send for him. He’ll want to display his
accomplished knights to the boys.”
    Nicholas took the ale. “To prove he’s
dragged many a boy up to manhood?”
    “By their hair,” Raymond joked, and the
three men laughed in unison.
    William poured another goblet for Charles.
“He swore he’d never again take four lads to foster,
all at the same time. You wore him out.”
    “We wore him out?” Charles hooted. “I used to sleep in my trencher
after he finished with a day’s training. Arthur used to
pretend illness when it rained, and Lord Peter would drag him out
of his blanket by his toes. Raymond never complained, just followed
orders and ate so much the dogs under the table were starving. And
remember when Nicholas broke his arm and had to learn to wield a
sword with his left hand?”
    “Lord Peter never slacked off.”
Nicholas groaned. “He said every knight should use his sword
with either hand.”
    “Aye, and he made us all practice with both
arms.” Raymond remembered. “You’re lucky,
Nicholas, we didn’t break your other arm.”
    “Now he’s got some other pages to
torment?” Charles asked.
    “One is my son,” William admitted.
    “That’s interesting.” Nicholas
tapped the table with hisfingers. “Will
Lord Peter work his own grandson harder, or will he be soft on
him?”
    William grinned, baring all his teeth. “What
do you think?”
    “The poor boy.” Raymond accepted a
brimming cup. “The poor, poor boy.”
    The men guffawed, their sympathy mixed with humor,
and William asked, “What do you hunt, Charles?”
    “Boar. But we’ve had the devil’s
own luck. We brought you venison instead. Since you can’t
hunt anymore, we thought your table could use the meat.”
    Raymond’s deep, precise voice corrected,
“William’s huntsmen won’t appreciate such a
compliment.”
    “We’re not starving,” William
agreed, his tone deliberate and bland, and he felt the touch of
Raymond’s hand on his in brief communication. Of all the men
his father had fostered, only Raymond was his close