Bone of Contention by Roberta Gellis Read Free Book Online Page A

cut off by someone coming in from a side lane, who called out, “Bellamy of Itchen? Is that you?”
    Bell turned, stared, and then lifted a hand in salute. “It is, indeed, Sir Ferrau.”
    A shade of annoyance flicked over Lord Ormerod’s face, but he let his horse drop back as Sir Ferrau took his place beside Bell and replied, “You remember me? It has been more than ten years.”
    Ferrau smiled as he spoke, and Magdalene looked at him over the draped veil that hid most of her face. His smile was genial, his teeth good. He was dark-eyed and dark-haired, the hair fashionably cut in a bang across the brow and a smooth edge at the bottom of his ears. His tunic, split fore and aft for riding, was of good mulberry-colored cloth and he wore a short scarlet cape that Bell eyed with a touch of envy. He was broad shouldered and had as easy a seat in the saddle as Bell’s.
    “Of course I remember you,” Bell replied. “How could I forget the drubbing you gave me when I said I wished to be a knight— I could hardly walk for a week. But it was kindly meant, I am sure.”
    “It was, indeed,” Sir Ferrau replied, laughing again. “One of your teachers—Brother Simon, I think it was—asked me to show you that the profession of arms would bring you no joy. I could have told him he was wrong. I could see it in your eyes when you took hold of the sword I lent you. Well, and so—” he took in Bell’s rich surcoat and the well-polished coat of mail that could be seen on his arms and through the surcoat’s open sides, the inner edge of Bell’s shield, which showed around his body although the device on it was hidden, the fine destrier he rode “—I see that you have achieved your ambition and been knighted.”
    “Oh yes. I left Abingdon when I was fifteen.” Bell grinned. “But I took your lesson to heart and used all the money my mother sent me for sweetmeats and other toys to buy lessons from the men-at-arms that Lord Sutton owed to the abbey. They had not all the knightly skills but taught me enough to let me sell my sword to a merchant ship captain as a mercenary.” He grimaced. “I learned more over the next few years, and by the time I returned home my father had resigned himself to the fact that I would not be a priest. So I spent another year as squire and was then knighted.”
    “And you have come to Court to forward your fortune?”
    “I am not so high in the world yet as to need the king’s favor,” Bell said, smiling. “I am presently at the service of the dean of Winchester. But I could ask you the same question. Have you come to argue some case for Lord Sutton of Culham? I hope he is well. I heard about the great tragedy in his household some time ago, that his daughter was beaten to death and her maid was murdered also.”
    Sir Ferrau paled. “I am so sorry! I had not heard! I knew the girl as a child. I am appalled! When I left Lord Sutton’s service all was well with him and his. He is a good man, but content with his small place. I was not. I am now in the service of Count Alain of Brittany, earl of Richmond.” He shook his head. “I must ask leave of my lord to visit Lord Sutton and give him my condolences. He was very fond of the child. Did they catch the killer?”
    “Not that I had ever heard.”
    “How terrible for Lord Sutton.” Sir Ferrau sighed then shrugged. “Was there some reason…?”
    “I don’t know.” Bell had lost interest in the old story, distracted by an idea that might help Lord Ormerod.
    He turned around to gesture Ormerod closer. Seeing the gesture, Magdalene fell back to make room and Sir Ferrau cast an interested glance at her.
    “Is she your wife?” Ferrau asked.
    Startled, Bell replied, “Alas, no,” and grinned. “I am not rich enough to support a wife. The lady is a tenant of the see of Winchester and requested my protection on her way to Oxford. I was glad to agree. She is good company.”
    “Her husband would not escort her?” Sir Ferrau’s eyebrows