Georgette Heyer by Simon the Coldheart Read Free Book Online Page A

Indeed, he deserves it on this day’s work alone.’
    Henry looked after the now distant figure thoughtfully.
    ‘There is that in him that pleases,’ he said. ‘But he is very cold. Perhaps he will be a great man one day. I would fain call him friend, methinks.’

Four
    How he was knighted, and how he had speech with his father
    He did not find his lord anywhere on the battlefield, but he was in no way perturbed. Back he rode to Shrewsbury, to Fulk’s lodging, and there he found Montlice, stretched upon a bed, and swearing mightily, whiles a leech dressed the wound in his shoulder. Simon clanked in, a grim figure in dusty, bloodstained armour that in one or two places had been shattered by some lusty blows. The face that looked out from under the peak of his helm was tired and drawn, but his green-blue eyes were as calm as ever, as if he had not seen more horrors today than in all his young life.
    At sight of him a look of relief swept over Fulk’s countenance.
    ‘Ah, God be thanked!’ he rumbled. ‘I might have known thou’dst be hard to kill.’
    ‘As I knew of thee,’ Simon said. He beckoned to my lord’s page. ‘Unlace me, Francis.’
    Montlice nodded.
    ‘Ay, ay, unlace him, boy. Art whole, Simon?’
    ‘Save for a scratch,’ Simon answered. ‘Gently, Francis, with mine arm. How deep goes your wound, my lord?’
    Fulk growled.
    ‘A nothing, a nothing – Hey, thou clumsy wretch, have a care!’ he roared as the leech handled him. ‘I saw thee by Malvallet, Simon. What madness seized thee?’
    ‘None,’ said Simon briefly. With his ungauntleted hand he unstrapped his helm and cast it on to the table. ‘When left you the field, sir?’
    ‘I fell,’ Fulk replied angrily, ‘and they bore me away, a million curses be upon them! I left it not of mine own will! They were wavering. What came of it?’
    ‘They are in full flight,’ Simon said. Free of his armour he stretched himself, and heaved a sigh of relief. ‘God’s my life, I am weary! Give me leave, sir, I would sleep.’
    ‘Wait!’ Fulk ordered. ‘Thine arm?’
    Simon untwisted the bloody scarf, revealing a great gash that at once began to bleed again. Fulk pushed the leech away from him.
    ‘Go tend my squire, good surgeon. I shall do very well.’ He waited in silence while the leech washed and bandaged Simon’s wound. Then he nodded.
    ‘Go thou, Simon, and rest. I will see thee anon.’
    Simon went out and to his own tiny room. There he flung himself down upon his hard bed, and slept almost at once. He did not wake until past eight on the following day, and then he made all haste to dress himself and wait upon his lord. He found Fulk breakfasting, despite the late hour, his shoulder neatly bandaged and himself seemingly not very much the worse for wear. He grunted when he saw Simon, and waved him to a seat at his own table. Simon, unimpressed by the honour, sat down and disposed of a tankard of ale. He then drew a platter towards him and proceeded to make a hearty meal. Neither he nor Fulk spoke until they had satisfied their hunger. At length my lord pushed back his chair, and wiping his fingers on the coarse cloth, looked across at his squire.
    ‘Thomas of Worcester and the Scottish Earl were taken,’ he remarked.
    Simon nodded, and there the conversation ended. Fulk went out presently, accompanied by his page, and Simon spent the morning polishing his sword and armour. Fulk did not return for dinner, which he took at Court, but soon after three in the afternoon he rolled in.
    ‘Hark ye, Simon,’ he puffed, ‘the King goes to make some dozen knights.’ He looked narrowly at Simon as he spoke, but Simon displayed no interest. He was cleaning my lord’s shield, and his whole attention seemed centred upon it.
    ‘With my good will he will make thee knight,’ Fulk said.
    Simon’s busy hands grew still. He shot an upward glance at Montlice.
    ‘Ye jest, my lord.’
    ‘Nay. The Prince remarked thy courage on the field and hath