Read Online The Reckoning - 3 by Sharon Kay Penman - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Sharon Kay Penman
Tags: Fiction, Historical fiction, General, Historical, History, Medieval, Great Britain, Wales, Wales - History - 1063-1284, Great Britain - History - 13th Century, Llywelyn Ap Gruffydd
Ads: Link
to make do with the most disliked of all Lenten dishes, smoked red herring. Hugh usually had an appetite to put a starving wolf to shame, but tonight he could muster up no enthusiasm for the salt-embalmed fish on his trencher, and he was poking at it listlessly with his knife when Niccolo di
Tavena generously offered to share the last dollop of hot mustard.
"Senape," he said, "e pesce morto," for Niccol6 never missed an opportunity to increase Hugh's Tuscan vocabulary. His own French was quite good, but he magnanimously forbore to laugh, no matter how Hugh mangled his native tongue, for he'd met numerous French and English knights since Guy de Montfort had wed the daughter of his
37
lord, and Hugh was the only one who showed a genuine interest in the language of Tuscany.
Hugh dutifully repeated the words. "Senapemustard, right? And pesce mortoherring?"
"Nodead fish," Niccol6 said and grinned at the face Hugh made. "I have another one for you, so pay attentionfiglio di puttana. This is for Noelwhoreson!"
Both boys laughed, for Hugh's relationship with Noel, fractious from the very first, had soured beyond redemption once Noel learned of Serafina. "Fair is fair, Niccolo. Let me teach you a blood-curdling French oath, one you"
Hugh got no further. Voices were rising; the table rocked suddenly, and a bench overturned with a loud thud. Hugh swung about just in time to see one of the Florentines draw a dagger upon his neighbor. Evading that first thrust, the second man snatched up a table knife, slashed his assailant's sleeve. By now the hall was in an uproar: men shouting, shoving, dogs barking, other daggers being drawn. Into the very center of all this turmoil strode Count
Ildebrandino. His own sword never left its scabbard, for his was the authority of blood and privilege, authority that took compliance for granted. Moving between the cornbatants, he quelled them by the very arrogance of his assurance, by his obvious disbelief that they would dare to disobey.
In minutes it was over, the transgressors rebuked, banished from the hall. As calm returned, Niccolo explained to Hugh what had driven the men to daggers.
"They fought over a past wrong. Florence and Siena have often been at war.
This time the Florentines won, and after plundering Siena, they took a number of the city's young women back with them to Florence."
Hugh was instantly on the side of the Sienese. "That is an outrage! Women are to be protected, not treated as spoils of war!"
"Easy, lad, I agree. But ere you offer to lead a rescue mission, you ought to know thisthat abduction took place more than forty years ago, before either man was even born!" Niccolo laughed at Hugh's look of bemusement. "You see, Hugh, we Tuscans nurture our grievances, tend them well from one generation to the next. Forget not, forgive not; we live by that."
Hugh nodded slowly. "The Welsh live by that creed, too." Within the hour, he was to be given disturbing, dramatic proof that so did the de Montforts.
The quarrel set the tone for the night. Once the food was cleared away, men settled down to drinkand to trade stories of other war atrocities, of kingly cruelties and crimes of statecraft. It was a macabre game, but the menbored, restless, stranded indoors by the storm
38
entered into it with gusto, sought to outdo one another, and Hugh and Niccolo and the other squires listened in appalled awe to sagas in which soldiers raped nuns, stole from the dying and from God, melted down church chalices and candlesticks, sold false relics to gullible pilgrims, and broke each and every one of the Holy Commandments.
As the evening advanced, the tales grew grimmer; men dredged up gossip steeped in blood. The Tuscans told of wars in which entire ^>wns were put to the torch. The French countered with accounts of the si4^e of Castle Gaillard, in which citizens who'd taken refuge within were expelled by the garrison, only to find themselves trapped between the castle walls and the besieging French army;
Tavena generously offered to share the last dollop of hot mustard.
"Senape," he said, "e pesce morto," for Niccol6 never missed an opportunity to increase Hugh's Tuscan vocabulary. His own French was quite good, but he magnanimously forbore to laugh, no matter how Hugh mangled his native tongue, for he'd met numerous French and English knights since Guy de Montfort had wed the daughter of his
37
lord, and Hugh was the only one who showed a genuine interest in the language of Tuscany.
Hugh dutifully repeated the words. "Senapemustard, right? And pesce mortoherring?"
"Nodead fish," Niccol6 said and grinned at the face Hugh made. "I have another one for you, so pay attentionfiglio di puttana. This is for Noelwhoreson!"
Both boys laughed, for Hugh's relationship with Noel, fractious from the very first, had soured beyond redemption once Noel learned of Serafina. "Fair is fair, Niccolo. Let me teach you a blood-curdling French oath, one you"
Hugh got no further. Voices were rising; the table rocked suddenly, and a bench overturned with a loud thud. Hugh swung about just in time to see one of the Florentines draw a dagger upon his neighbor. Evading that first thrust, the second man snatched up a table knife, slashed his assailant's sleeve. By now the hall was in an uproar: men shouting, shoving, dogs barking, other daggers being drawn. Into the very center of all this turmoil strode Count
Ildebrandino. His own sword never left its scabbard, for his was the authority of blood and privilege, authority that took compliance for granted. Moving between the cornbatants, he quelled them by the very arrogance of his assurance, by his obvious disbelief that they would dare to disobey.
In minutes it was over, the transgressors rebuked, banished from the hall. As calm returned, Niccolo explained to Hugh what had driven the men to daggers.
"They fought over a past wrong. Florence and Siena have often been at war.
This time the Florentines won, and after plundering Siena, they took a number of the city's young women back with them to Florence."
Hugh was instantly on the side of the Sienese. "That is an outrage! Women are to be protected, not treated as spoils of war!"
"Easy, lad, I agree. But ere you offer to lead a rescue mission, you ought to know thisthat abduction took place more than forty years ago, before either man was even born!" Niccolo laughed at Hugh's look of bemusement. "You see, Hugh, we Tuscans nurture our grievances, tend them well from one generation to the next. Forget not, forgive not; we live by that."
Hugh nodded slowly. "The Welsh live by that creed, too." Within the hour, he was to be given disturbing, dramatic proof that so did the de Montforts.
The quarrel set the tone for the night. Once the food was cleared away, men settled down to drinkand to trade stories of other war atrocities, of kingly cruelties and crimes of statecraft. It was a macabre game, but the menbored, restless, stranded indoors by the storm
38
entered into it with gusto, sought to outdo one another, and Hugh and Niccolo and the other squires listened in appalled awe to sagas in which soldiers raped nuns, stole from the dying and from God, melted down church chalices and candlesticks, sold false relics to gullible pilgrims, and broke each and every one of the Holy Commandments.
As the evening advanced, the tales grew grimmer; men dredged up gossip steeped in blood. The Tuscans told of wars in which entire ^>wns were put to the torch. The French countered with accounts of the si4^e of Castle Gaillard, in which citizens who'd taken refuge within were expelled by the garrison, only to find themselves trapped between the castle walls and the besieging French army;
Similar Books
