Read Online Here Be Dragons - 1 by Sharon Kay Penman - Free Book Online Page A

his own chamber, John was reaching for a wine flagon when he caught movement from the corner of his eye, spun around to see the girl cowering in the shadows.
"Who are you?"
"Do not be angry, my lord," she pleaded, stumbling forward to make an exceedingly awkward curtsy. "I ... I am Lucy, and I am here because Master
Randolph ... he thought..."
Her painful stammer, her flaming face told John quite clearly what Master
Randolph thought. His first impulse was to get rid of her, but even as the dismissal was forming on his tongue, he changed his mind. What better way to exorcise the horrors of the sickroom than with flesh that was smooth and whole and healthy? Moreover, he had ever hated to be alone. Tonight of all nights, even the company of this timid little maidservant was preferable to his own.
"Remind me to thank Master Randolph," he said and smiled at her. "Be a good lass now and fetch me some wine."
But the wine did not help as he'd hoped. Instead of dulling his anxieties, it acted as a stimulant, spurring his imagination into unpleasant excesses, conjuring up half-forgotten fears of boyhood and projecting them into a future that suddenly seemed fraught with menace.
"He's dying, Lucy. Did you know that?"
"Yes, my lord," she whispered. Hastening to refill his wine cup, she approached the bed and then skittered back out of range, putting him in mind of a squirrel caught between trees.
He'd sent Lucy down to the buttery for another wine flagon when he heard a commotion in the stairwell. He sat up on the bed as Martin Algais and
Lupescaire burst into the chamber.
"Look what we found in the stairwell." Shoving Lucy forward into the room.
"What is that saying about a bird in the hand?"
John was not amused. Algais and Lupescaire were Brabanc.ons,
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jnen who sold their swords to the highest bidder. In the past he had permitted, even encouraged, familiarity, dicing and drinking with them, treating them as intimates. But tonight he had no desire for their company*
and he found himself resenting the way they were making free with what was his, Lupescaire helping himself to the wine while Martin Algais backed Lucy into a corner, laughing at her ineffectual attempts to fend off his roving hands.
"I do not recall summoning you," John said irritably, as Lupescaire handed him a brimming wine cup.
"The talk amongst our men is that the old King is in a bad way. You did see him, my lord; how does he, in truth?"
John could not, in fairness, fault them for their concern; their future, like his own, rose and fell with each labored breath Henry drew. But they were servants, companions, handpicked hirelingsnot confidants.
"Well enough," he said, had his cup halfway to his mouth when Lucy screamed.
His hand jerked, and wine splashed onto the bed, splattered his tunic. John jumped to his feet with an oath. "Damn your soul, Martin, look at this!" He stared down at the wine spill in disgust, then turned to glare at Algais.
"Must you ever have your hand up a woman's skirts? If you want to tumble a wench, you can damned well do it someplace else than in my chamber. Let that girl be, and get a servant up here to change these bedcovers."
But Algais did not move. Holding the weeping girl with one hand, with the other he reached for the neck of her gown, jerked until the material tore, baring her breasts.
"Did you not hear me?" John demanded, astonished. "I told you to let the girl alone."
"Why?" Algais sounded sullen, defiant. "We've shared women before; why not now?"
Lupescaire put his wine cup down, eyes suddenly aglitter, cutting from John to
Algais and back again. John's mouth went dry; never had either of them dared to defy him before. "Because I say so, Martin. You take what I choose to give you, no more and no less."
Algais had very pale eyes, an unblinking, feral stare. But after a few frozen breaths, he loosened his hold on Lucy. "You want me to ask? Then I'm asking. I
have taken a fancy to this one; let me have her for an hour."
It would be so