Read Online Shadows and Strongholds by Elizabeth Chadwick - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Elizabeth Chadwick
Tags: Fiction, Historical
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steel.'
Reverently, Brunin took the sword from Joscelin's large, hard hands. 'I know about not touching the blade,' he said, to show his new lord that he wasn't ignorant.
Joscelin's lips twitched and straightened. 'I am glad that you do. A squire must learn how to handle and look after all weapons. It is one of the first lessons of his training.'
Brunin walked carefully over to the coffer, pacing as if he were involved in an important ceremony. The sword had a pommel shaped like the fat silver body of a stew-pond carp and a grip of braided leather that spanned more than two of his hand-widths. With great reverence, he laid the scabbarded sword on the coffer and turned round.
'Now then.' Joscelin indicated the two youths who had come to stand at either side of him. 'This is Adam and this is Hugh. They will soon finish their training, although, like you, they are my squires. If you are not sure of something and you need to ask when I am not by, then you need not fear to approach one of them.'
Brunin nodded dutifully to show that he understood, but he was wary. Although the youths, who were old enough to show beard stubble, gave him encouraging smiles, he did not smile back.
Joscelin held his gaze while he unlatched the gilded swordbelt and passed it across. As Brunin took it, Joscelin's hand stayed a moment on the strap so that he and the boy were connected by the leather. 'I truly mean you need not fear,' he said. 'I know what happened at Shrewsbury Fair, but I promise that you will come to no harm beneath my rule. I expect swift service and obedience, not miracles.' He glanced briefly to the elder of his squires. 'How often have I beaten you, Hugh?'
The youth rolled his gaze heavenwards as if the answer was written on the roof beams.
'The truth,' Joscelin said with both humour and warning in his voice.
Hugh lowered his eyes and fixed them on Brunin. 'Not very often, my lord. And only when I deserved it… even if I did not think so at the time.' He winked at Brunin and ducked the playful cuff that Joscelin aimed in his direction.
'That is not to say that I am as soft as new butter,' Joscelin said. 'If I treat you fairly, I expect the best in return. And the same goes for everyone under my rule.'
Brunin nodded and tried to look knowing, although he felt out of his depth. The easy attitude between Joscelin and his squires was like a new language… one that he very much desired to learn, but was not sure how to go about doing so.
Joscelin released his grip on the swordbelt and again directed Brunin to the coffer. Brunin laid it beside the scabbard, and lightly touched the gilding on the pattern of stamped lozenges. When he became a knight he wanted a belt like that.
When he turned again, the squires were helping Joscelin to remove his hauberk, the weight of which would have been too much for Brunin. Between them, the youths carried and draped the mail shirt over the coffer near the window. Brunin received Joscelin's spurs and placed them beside the sword and belt while the squires dealt with the quilted undertunic that Joscelin wore beneath his mail.
Now Joscelin was down to his tunic proper, of green wool with detailed embroidery of red and blue. A fabulous round brooch closed the neck opening, amber and garnets glowing like honey and blood amidst the gold.
'Well, young man, am I fit to face your grandmother, do you think?' Joscelin raised his hands and raked them through his hair, leaving deep feather marks in the glossy-russet. His variegated grey eyes were agleam and Brunin was unsure whether to smile or not. Playing safe, he murmured a dutiful response.
'You need not wear your cloak inside,' Joscelin said. 'Take it off and put it over there with mine.'
Brunin raised his hand to the pin, and then remembered why he was supposed to keep it on. His throat didn't hurt, but from the reaction of the adults, he knew that it must look worse than it was. 'I'm… my mother said.
'And I know why she said it. I have
Reverently, Brunin took the sword from Joscelin's large, hard hands. 'I know about not touching the blade,' he said, to show his new lord that he wasn't ignorant.
Joscelin's lips twitched and straightened. 'I am glad that you do. A squire must learn how to handle and look after all weapons. It is one of the first lessons of his training.'
Brunin walked carefully over to the coffer, pacing as if he were involved in an important ceremony. The sword had a pommel shaped like the fat silver body of a stew-pond carp and a grip of braided leather that spanned more than two of his hand-widths. With great reverence, he laid the scabbarded sword on the coffer and turned round.
'Now then.' Joscelin indicated the two youths who had come to stand at either side of him. 'This is Adam and this is Hugh. They will soon finish their training, although, like you, they are my squires. If you are not sure of something and you need to ask when I am not by, then you need not fear to approach one of them.'
Brunin nodded dutifully to show that he understood, but he was wary. Although the youths, who were old enough to show beard stubble, gave him encouraging smiles, he did not smile back.
Joscelin held his gaze while he unlatched the gilded swordbelt and passed it across. As Brunin took it, Joscelin's hand stayed a moment on the strap so that he and the boy were connected by the leather. 'I truly mean you need not fear,' he said. 'I know what happened at Shrewsbury Fair, but I promise that you will come to no harm beneath my rule. I expect swift service and obedience, not miracles.' He glanced briefly to the elder of his squires. 'How often have I beaten you, Hugh?'
The youth rolled his gaze heavenwards as if the answer was written on the roof beams.
'The truth,' Joscelin said with both humour and warning in his voice.
Hugh lowered his eyes and fixed them on Brunin. 'Not very often, my lord. And only when I deserved it… even if I did not think so at the time.' He winked at Brunin and ducked the playful cuff that Joscelin aimed in his direction.
'That is not to say that I am as soft as new butter,' Joscelin said. 'If I treat you fairly, I expect the best in return. And the same goes for everyone under my rule.'
Brunin nodded and tried to look knowing, although he felt out of his depth. The easy attitude between Joscelin and his squires was like a new language… one that he very much desired to learn, but was not sure how to go about doing so.
Joscelin released his grip on the swordbelt and again directed Brunin to the coffer. Brunin laid it beside the scabbard, and lightly touched the gilding on the pattern of stamped lozenges. When he became a knight he wanted a belt like that.
When he turned again, the squires were helping Joscelin to remove his hauberk, the weight of which would have been too much for Brunin. Between them, the youths carried and draped the mail shirt over the coffer near the window. Brunin received Joscelin's spurs and placed them beside the sword and belt while the squires dealt with the quilted undertunic that Joscelin wore beneath his mail.
Now Joscelin was down to his tunic proper, of green wool with detailed embroidery of red and blue. A fabulous round brooch closed the neck opening, amber and garnets glowing like honey and blood amidst the gold.
'Well, young man, am I fit to face your grandmother, do you think?' Joscelin raised his hands and raked them through his hair, leaving deep feather marks in the glossy-russet. His variegated grey eyes were agleam and Brunin was unsure whether to smile or not. Playing safe, he murmured a dutiful response.
'You need not wear your cloak inside,' Joscelin said. 'Take it off and put it over there with mine.'
Brunin raised his hand to the pin, and then remembered why he was supposed to keep it on. His throat didn't hurt, but from the reaction of the adults, he knew that it must look worse than it was. 'I'm… my mother said.
'And I know why she said it. I have
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