Almodis by Tracey Warr Read Free Book Online

nightshift. I rake my fingers through my hair and step out into the chill dawn air. The courtyard that had been so frantic yesterday is now deserted and silent. An old black cat sits by the well eyeing me. I take a tin cup from its hook and dip it into the well bucket. The cold water revives me and I am hungry but first I need to check on my falcon. I walk towards the arch in the far corner of the bailey and find my way to the falconry mews, adjacent to the stables. Passing the stables I hear the horses chomping softly on hay, shifting their positions.
    I duck inside the dark mews and exchange a morning greeting with Piers who is already here about his work, cleaning harnesses and leather straps. He and I have an easy relationship now. He does his work very well and I try to forget our fight in the stables in Aquitaine when we were newly arrived as child-hostages. I was dressed up in all my best clothes and jewellery and playing queen. It was a game I played at home with Raingarde. He came in and sniggered at me. ‘You won’t ever be a queen,’ he said. ‘All you’ll be doing is laying on your back with your legs open being fucked and having babies.’ That was when I punched him and his nose bled, and I got the scars on my knuckles and a thrashing from Agnes.
    I pick out my peregrine falcon in the dark rows of birds on perches and begin talking gently to her and feeding her a fewtitbits of quail that Piers has prepared for me. The dim light of the mews dims further as someone else enters behind me. The new occupant murmurs a greeting: ‘My Lady.’ I hear the Catalan lilt in his accent. Like me he is attending to his falcon, ensuring that she feels secure with her owner’s voice in this strange mews. I sneak a glance at the newcomer as he talks to his own bird, a magnificent gyrfalcon. He is the tall blond boy who entered the investiture behind us yesterday with his grandmother: Ramon, Count of Barcelona.
    He turns suddenly to me, deliberately catching me in the act of studying him and we both laugh. He makes me an elaborate bow and I can see that he is also in his nightshift beneath a very resplendent blue cloak with a border of elaborate silk embroidery. Even in the gloom of the mews I can see the blue of his eyes. I am suddenly conscious that my hair is hanging loose and uncovered down my back and that my own white undergown is visible below my fur cloak. But what does it matter. He is only a boy after all.
    ‘May I take the liberty, my Lady, of introducing myself and asking your name? I am Ramon, Count of Barcelona.’
    ‘I am pleased to meet you. I am Almodis of La Marche.’
    ‘Ah! Were you not recently at the Court of Aquitaine?’
    He is very well-informed for a boy! ‘Yes I was there for the last twelve years and am only just returned to my father.’
    ‘My felicitations on your reunion with your family, and with your honoured father, Count Bernard. At the Court of Aquitaine you must have known the two dukes, the old Guillaume V, The Great, and now his son, Guillaume VI?’
    ‘Yes, the old duke was my guardian all through my childhood. I was privileged to have access to his Great Library and share his passion for music and poetry.’
    Ramon shows no surprise at my implication that I can read. ‘Ah! Won’t you tell me something of that library?’ he asks, inviting me to sit on a bench behind us.
    I picture the shelves of the duke’s library in my mind. I count off the books I can remember on my fingers. ‘He had many bibles. And Augustine’s City of God , Orosius’ History of the Ancient World and Eusebius’ Church History. ’
    ‘And did you read all these heavy tomes, Lady?’
    ‘Yes,’ I say. I am about to carry on with my catalogue of the library but realise that I have heard a tone of humour in Ramon’s question. I look up quickly at his smiling face. ‘Are you laughing at me?’ I say abruptly.
    ‘Indeed no.’ His expression sobers. ‘I am simply delighted to find someone who shares