The Winter Mantle by Elizabeth Chadwick Read Free Book Online Page A

and her eyes had stayed dry. Her mother had whipped her for childhood misdemeanours or lapses in behaviour and she had not cried. So why now? Why should the gentle reproach from an English hostage lord undo her? Judith sniffed and wiped her eyes with the edge of her wimple, but they only filled again with tears. She leaned against the wall, trying to compose herself, knowing that if she went within looking like this her mother would wring her dry with interrogation.
    'What's wrong?' Her sister Adela had come out to look for her. 'Why are you weeping?' She gave Judith a look full of astonishment and surprise.
    'I'm not weeping,' Judith snapped. 'The dust from the hay barn is in my eyes, that's all.'
    'Have you chosen your horse?' Adela could not give a fig for riding. She much preferred to stay with their mother in the bower and sew. The fact that Judith was to have a new mount, however, had roused a certain amount of sibling envy. She had already begun to wheedle their mother for a new gown to compensate.
    Judith shook her head and reached within herself to seal the breach in her control. 'Simon de Senlis has been kicked by one of the new horses and broken his leg,' she said, and was pleased to hear her voice emerge in its usual measured tones. 'He's being tended by Uncle William's chirugeon.'
    Adela gasped with pity. 'The poor boy.' She bit her lip. 'Will the leg mend?'
    'I pray so.' Remembering the suffering in the boy's expression, the twisted angle of his leg, Judith knew that, no matter what Waitheof of Huntingdon said, the blame was hers to shoulder whilst young Simon de Senlis paid the price.

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Chapter 4

     
    Ducking under the door arch, Waitheof entered the small wall chamber where Simon lay. There was space only for a narrow bed, a stone bench cushioned with bolsters and a niche in the wall for placing a candle. A thin window slit let in a waft of cool air and an arch of powder-blue sky.
    Richard de Rules sat on a stool at the bedside, watching his son's restless slumber with paternal anxiety.
    'How does he fare?' Waltheof asked softly.
    The Norman sighed. 'Well enough for the moment. The chirugeon set the leg as best he could… but it was a bad break.
    'lie has the best of care,' Waltheof said, trying to impart reassurance. 'God willing he will mend."
    De Rules' expression did not lighten. 'God willing,' he sighed and wearily rubbed his face. 'Jesu, he is but nine years old. He was to be trained to arms. What will become of him if he is crippled?'
    'That won't happen, he is too tenacious,' Waltheof said stoutly. 'Even if he is lamed, he will still be capable of riding a horse, won't he? Nor will the injury affect the capacity of his mind.' He was aware of overprotesting, as if doing so would somehow make the situation more positive.
    'That is what I keep telling myself.' The Norman offered his open palm to Waltheof. 'Whatever happens, I am indebted to you for saving his life. If you had not pulled him from beneath those hooves…'
    'I only wish that I had been able to act more swiftly.' Waitheof clasped De Rules' hand, released it and stood up. 'I will come again when he is awake.'
    'I will tell him that you were here.' De Rules gestured to the folds of fur-edged blue fabric on the bench. 'Your cloak, Lord Waltheof. Thank you for its borrowing.'
    Waltheof lifted the garment and draped it carefully over his arm. 'I'm glad it was of use,' he said and went from the room, sombre and troubled. If William's chirugeon said that the break was bad, then what chance did that give the boy? Waltheof had not lived a soldier's life, but he had seen enough wounds treated at Crowland Abbey to know all the permutations.
    Some broken limbs healed with nary a scar or discomfort, save to trouble their owners in damp weather and old age. On other occasions, however, the injury would swell and turn green, sending streaks of red poison through the patient's body, harbingers of an agonising death. Or the bone would heal, but in a