Read Online The Seeing Stone by Kevin Crossley-Holland - Free Book Online

fifth time was just curds and whey. After that, I couldn’t stop shivering.”
    The messenger looked at me strangely, and then he gasped and clutched his stomach. “God’s guts!” he exclaimed, and he turned and half-walked, half-ran out of the hall.

24
ROYAL BROTHERS
    U GH!” SAID MY FATHER. “THAT MESSENGER! WORSE THAN a dung beetle.”
    I held out the bowl, and my father dipped his hands into the water, then watched as the clear beads dripped back into it from the ends of his fingers.
    â€œNo wonder King Richard said he’d be glad to sell London—the buildings, the river, and all the scum who live there. He said he’d sell the lot if that would raise the money to pay for another crusade.”
    My father took the cloth hanging over my right forearm and thoughtfully dried his hands. “Did you hear how he spoke to us? As if we were March blockheads? And did you hear him try to teach me my duty?”
    â€œJohn…” my mother began.
    â€œAnd then he spends the whole night souping up our latrine,” said my father.
    â€œJohn!” my mother said again.
    Then my father looked round and saw that everyone was standing at their places, so he replaced the cloth on my forearm. “Thank you, Arthur,” he said. “Right! Benedictus benedicat. Per Jesum Christum dominum nostrum. Amen.”
    We sat down and Slim at once brought over a large covered dish from the side table, and planted it in front of my father. “Herbolace!” he announced.
    â€œHerbolace! Really!” exclaimed my father. “You mean to say we eat delicacies like this out in the March? I thought we only ate… only…Well, Sian? What’s the worst thing to eat?”
    â€œSquirms!” said Sian. “I did once. No! Toads!” And she bunched up her right hand and hopped it off her trencher.
    â€œThat’s what he was,” said my father. “One of King John’s toads. Yes, Helen. I know. I’m keeping you all waiting.” Then my father lifted the dish lid, and helped himself to a large dollop of scrambled eggs and cheese and herbs, while Slim brought over another dish from the side table.
    â€œCollops, Sir John,” he announced.
    â€œVery good, Slim,” said my father. “Fit for a king! And too good for King John.”
    As soon as my father had finished eating, and we had just begun, he exclaimed, “It was insulting! That message! It insulted King Richard. Not one word of praise, not one word of sorrow. And not one lean word about King John’s own plans. Just—ring bells! And more bells! Does he think we’re all fools?”
    â€œSurely,” said Serle, “the new king wants to please his earls and lords and knights. He wants them to like him.”
    â€œIf that’s what he wants,” replied my father, “he would do best to tell us what’s what. To be fair and to be straight. I don’t need covering with a coating of slime.”
    â€œYou’re judging the king by his messenger,” said my mother.
    â€œI am not,” said my father. “I am judging him by his words. And his words were all fat.”
    â€œErk!” exclaimed Sian. “There’s a squirm in this cheese!”
    â€œPut it on the floor!” my mother said.
    â€œAnother one!” wailed Sian. “Look!”
    â€œJust give it to the dogs,” said my mother. “Don’t fuss so!”
    â€œThere’s the difference,” said my father. “Two men. Two brothers from the same pod, but as unalike as you can imagine. Do you know why his men followed King Richard to the kingdom of Jerusalem? Because he was open with them. Tough? He was very tough! But he never asked them to do anything he would not do himself.”
    â€œSir William told me,” I said, “that the leader of the Saracens…”
    â€œSaladin,” said my father.
    â€œâ€¦Saladin sent King Richard a