the havoc I had caused to the first of the jellies.
I promised to do so and edged my way out of the steam and the noise into the comparative coolness and quiet of the corridor. I was about to return to the great hall following the same route by which I had come, using the stairs immediately opposite the kitchen entrance, when a slight noise to my left attracted my attention and made me pause.
âWhoâs there?â I demanded, peering into the gloom of the passageway, which seemed suddenly, eerily, deserted. I turned around and stared behind me. âIs there anyone there?â
There was a rush of movement and I was thrown against the wall, an extra shove with an outstretched hand sending me sprawling on the bottom few treads of the stairs. I was vaguely aware of a strange, mask-like face before struggling to pick myself up.
âStop!â I commanded, but I was badly winded and the word came out in a breathless croak.
I staggered forward a few steps, but of course there was no one there. Whoever had brought me down had vanished while I was getting to my feet. After a moment or two, when I was feeling a little more myself, I recalled hearing the rattle of a latch and the thud of a closing door, and came to the conclusion that my assailant was one of the mummers late for the start of the entertainment, and that I had been in his way. He had most probably been unaware of the force with which he had pushed me aside. I toyed with the idea of going after him, but then realized that not only would I not recognize either him or the mask he was wearing, but I should be laying myself open to ridicule. I was a big, strong man. Was I going to complain because a mummer had accidentally floored me?
Nevertheless, for no good reason that I could fathom, the silly little incident had upset me and made me uneasy. I stared for a few seconds longer into the gloom of the passageway before brushing myself down and mounting the staircase behind me. At the top, I shouldered open the door into the great hall which had now been transformed into a vast empty space, with all tables except the high table, on its dais, folded and stacked away, and the benches arranged around the roomâs perimeter ready for the audience to take its seat for the eveningâs entertainment. A great number of the guests were still strolling about, exchanging greetings with people they had been unable to come at during the feast, and I noted with relief that my lord Albany, attended by the faithful Davey Gray, had crossed the hall to speak to Master Hobbes, King Edwardâs personal physician. (As a matter of interest, I will mention here that there were no less than nine other surgeons in the royal retinue, not one of whom, it is needless to say, was included for the benefit of the ordinary poor bastard of a foot soldier.)
My relief was short-lived. Turning away from Master Hobbes, Albany spotted me and came striding back to the dais, a gathering frown marring his handsome face.
âWhere the devil have you been?â he demanded wrathfully, mounting the three steps in a single bound and seizing me by one arm. âI ordered you to remain behind my chair throughout all mealtimes. And you have the damned effrontery to disobey me.â
âThen you should have the grace to see that Iâm fed, not left standing while you gorge yourself half to death and Iâm nigh fainting with hunger ⦠Your Highness!â I added as an afterthought.
I heard the page draw in his breath and saw him tense his slim form as he waited for the explosion of royal anger. But this failed to materialize. Albany and I stared at one another, eyeball to eyeball, for several seconds, then he dropped his hand from my arm and gave his charming smile.
âRoger, forgive me my thoughtlessness. Of course I should have made provisions for your sustenance. Have you managed to forage for yourself now?â
âI found my way to the kitchens,â I said.
I promised to do so and edged my way out of the steam and the noise into the comparative coolness and quiet of the corridor. I was about to return to the great hall following the same route by which I had come, using the stairs immediately opposite the kitchen entrance, when a slight noise to my left attracted my attention and made me pause.
âWhoâs there?â I demanded, peering into the gloom of the passageway, which seemed suddenly, eerily, deserted. I turned around and stared behind me. âIs there anyone there?â
There was a rush of movement and I was thrown against the wall, an extra shove with an outstretched hand sending me sprawling on the bottom few treads of the stairs. I was vaguely aware of a strange, mask-like face before struggling to pick myself up.
âStop!â I commanded, but I was badly winded and the word came out in a breathless croak.
I staggered forward a few steps, but of course there was no one there. Whoever had brought me down had vanished while I was getting to my feet. After a moment or two, when I was feeling a little more myself, I recalled hearing the rattle of a latch and the thud of a closing door, and came to the conclusion that my assailant was one of the mummers late for the start of the entertainment, and that I had been in his way. He had most probably been unaware of the force with which he had pushed me aside. I toyed with the idea of going after him, but then realized that not only would I not recognize either him or the mask he was wearing, but I should be laying myself open to ridicule. I was a big, strong man. Was I going to complain because a mummer had accidentally floored me?
Nevertheless, for no good reason that I could fathom, the silly little incident had upset me and made me uneasy. I stared for a few seconds longer into the gloom of the passageway before brushing myself down and mounting the staircase behind me. At the top, I shouldered open the door into the great hall which had now been transformed into a vast empty space, with all tables except the high table, on its dais, folded and stacked away, and the benches arranged around the roomâs perimeter ready for the audience to take its seat for the eveningâs entertainment. A great number of the guests were still strolling about, exchanging greetings with people they had been unable to come at during the feast, and I noted with relief that my lord Albany, attended by the faithful Davey Gray, had crossed the hall to speak to Master Hobbes, King Edwardâs personal physician. (As a matter of interest, I will mention here that there were no less than nine other surgeons in the royal retinue, not one of whom, it is needless to say, was included for the benefit of the ordinary poor bastard of a foot soldier.)
My relief was short-lived. Turning away from Master Hobbes, Albany spotted me and came striding back to the dais, a gathering frown marring his handsome face.
âWhere the devil have you been?â he demanded wrathfully, mounting the three steps in a single bound and seizing me by one arm. âI ordered you to remain behind my chair throughout all mealtimes. And you have the damned effrontery to disobey me.â
âThen you should have the grace to see that Iâm fed, not left standing while you gorge yourself half to death and Iâm nigh fainting with hunger ⦠Your Highness!â I added as an afterthought.
I heard the page draw in his breath and saw him tense his slim form as he waited for the explosion of royal anger. But this failed to materialize. Albany and I stared at one another, eyeball to eyeball, for several seconds, then he dropped his hand from my arm and gave his charming smile.
âRoger, forgive me my thoughtlessness. Of course I should have made provisions for your sustenance. Have you managed to forage for yourself now?â
âI found my way to the kitchens,â I said.
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