Read Online The Honor Due a King by N. Gemini Sasson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: N. Gemini Sasson
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to silence. “This is a joyful night, not to be sullied with prattle of politics or warfare.”
The soul-stirring drone of the pipes drifted on the air, notes rising, then undulating. The drummer thumped a languorous beat, the rhythm building to a brisk cadence. Robert rose from his seat and led Marjorie by the hand onto the floor. A peaked Elizabeth observed wistfully as more couples rushed forward to join in the ring dance. Soon, the fiddler’s bow danced over the strings to strike up a lively rotundellus . As Robert whirled his daughter about the floor, Marjorie glanced at me, her eyes swimming in sorrow.
I would rather have been jilted and seen her happy, than to think it even possible that she regretted this happening as much as I did.
***
N igh on evening the next day, Randolph and I were walking slowly through one of the palace’s corridors. An hour ago in the great hall over cups of mulled wine, I had been sharing tales of my raids into northern England, but the talk had soon turned to Robert’s plans to send Edward on campaign to Ireland. Aware that we could too easily be overheard, we left the hall.
“Do you think,” I said, “that he is carrying this out merely to pacify Edward in some way?”
Hands clasped behind his back, Randolph paused beside a wavering torchlight and gazed at me sincerely in the half-darkness. “I’ve heard Edward say Scotland is not big enough for both him and Robert. And Robert would just as well prefer his contentious brother go elsewhere. We all would for that matter. But what is Robert to do with him? The plan is far-fetched, I agree. It gambles valuable resources and men that are needed here, particularly at our borders.”
Hearing footsteps around the corner, I lowered my voice. “Should this come to pass, where will it leave either of us?”
Randolph shook his head. “A hundred times I’d have given my life on Scottish soil, but I deign not to die in Ireland, God willing. Curse my loyal head, though, I’ll go where Robert sends me. But think not for a moment that I’ll go without protest.” He sighed and rubbed at bloodshot eyes. “Ah, I’m weary of thinking. Good even, James.”
Shoulders slumped, he left. Shadows passed him ahead in the corridor. As the forms shifted into the light, I made out Christina’s serene face and beside her ... Marjorie. Her eyes widened in surprise. Immediately, I looked at the floor. As they brushed past, I muttered a greeting. Their footsteps faded away, but just as I braved a look back at them, Marjorie pressed a hand on Christina’s arm.
“Go on,” she said to Christina. “I forgot to light a candle for my father’s brothers.”
Christina kissed her on the cheek and went. Marjorie waited until she was out of sight before approaching me.
A halo of light shone from behind her as she stepped closer. “Would you escort me to the chapel?”
“I ... w-w-would not consider it proper,” I replied, stuttering to my embarrassment.
“Please.” She tilted her head at me and looked at me with such depth and tenderness, that I could not have denied her any request.
I gave her my arm, but kept my eyes forward as we went to the chapel. The corridor was so narrow that her skirt brushed my leg. We turned a corner and went down a short flight of stairs. There, the door of the little chapel stood before us, iron studs arranged in the shape of a cross.
She turned to me and opened her mouth to speak, but stopped when snatches of conversation and broken laughter drifted through the tunnel of the corridors. After the voices ceased, she said to me, “Edward wishes I had never come back. Least of all does he wish for me to be married and having children.”
I wanted to ask her if that was what she wished for, to marry and have Walter’s children, but I was too angry. Angry at things being the way they were. Angry at myself for not having said more to her or to Robert. But ... what if I had been wrong? What if she cared nothing for me
The soul-stirring drone of the pipes drifted on the air, notes rising, then undulating. The drummer thumped a languorous beat, the rhythm building to a brisk cadence. Robert rose from his seat and led Marjorie by the hand onto the floor. A peaked Elizabeth observed wistfully as more couples rushed forward to join in the ring dance. Soon, the fiddler’s bow danced over the strings to strike up a lively rotundellus . As Robert whirled his daughter about the floor, Marjorie glanced at me, her eyes swimming in sorrow.
I would rather have been jilted and seen her happy, than to think it even possible that she regretted this happening as much as I did.
***
N igh on evening the next day, Randolph and I were walking slowly through one of the palace’s corridors. An hour ago in the great hall over cups of mulled wine, I had been sharing tales of my raids into northern England, but the talk had soon turned to Robert’s plans to send Edward on campaign to Ireland. Aware that we could too easily be overheard, we left the hall.
“Do you think,” I said, “that he is carrying this out merely to pacify Edward in some way?”
Hands clasped behind his back, Randolph paused beside a wavering torchlight and gazed at me sincerely in the half-darkness. “I’ve heard Edward say Scotland is not big enough for both him and Robert. And Robert would just as well prefer his contentious brother go elsewhere. We all would for that matter. But what is Robert to do with him? The plan is far-fetched, I agree. It gambles valuable resources and men that are needed here, particularly at our borders.”
Hearing footsteps around the corner, I lowered my voice. “Should this come to pass, where will it leave either of us?”
Randolph shook his head. “A hundred times I’d have given my life on Scottish soil, but I deign not to die in Ireland, God willing. Curse my loyal head, though, I’ll go where Robert sends me. But think not for a moment that I’ll go without protest.” He sighed and rubbed at bloodshot eyes. “Ah, I’m weary of thinking. Good even, James.”
Shoulders slumped, he left. Shadows passed him ahead in the corridor. As the forms shifted into the light, I made out Christina’s serene face and beside her ... Marjorie. Her eyes widened in surprise. Immediately, I looked at the floor. As they brushed past, I muttered a greeting. Their footsteps faded away, but just as I braved a look back at them, Marjorie pressed a hand on Christina’s arm.
“Go on,” she said to Christina. “I forgot to light a candle for my father’s brothers.”
Christina kissed her on the cheek and went. Marjorie waited until she was out of sight before approaching me.
A halo of light shone from behind her as she stepped closer. “Would you escort me to the chapel?”
“I ... w-w-would not consider it proper,” I replied, stuttering to my embarrassment.
“Please.” She tilted her head at me and looked at me with such depth and tenderness, that I could not have denied her any request.
I gave her my arm, but kept my eyes forward as we went to the chapel. The corridor was so narrow that her skirt brushed my leg. We turned a corner and went down a short flight of stairs. There, the door of the little chapel stood before us, iron studs arranged in the shape of a cross.
She turned to me and opened her mouth to speak, but stopped when snatches of conversation and broken laughter drifted through the tunnel of the corridors. After the voices ceased, she said to me, “Edward wishes I had never come back. Least of all does he wish for me to be married and having children.”
I wanted to ask her if that was what she wished for, to marry and have Walter’s children, but I was too angry. Angry at things being the way they were. Angry at myself for not having said more to her or to Robert. But ... what if I had been wrong? What if she cared nothing for me
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