The Shattered Rose Page 0,46
growth. He drank some water himself, and washed the blood off his hands and face. There was gore all over his mail and braies, but there wasn't much he could do about that.
He spotted some brambles and pointed out the fruit to his men so they could gather some if they wished. Then he allocated watch hours to each man, with special instructions to wake him if anyone entered or left Burstock.
Having run out of things to do, he rolled up in his cloak.
He could sleep this way if he had to, but doubted he would sleep tonight.
He could have kept watch all night, but feared his mind would wander. And anyway, he didn't want to have to talk to Raoul.
One question tormented him: Was Lowick in Burstock, awaiting his leman? Were they even now in a bed, pumping together hot and sweatily, and lamenting that Jehanne had needed to whore with her husband to deflect his suspicions?
His whole body burned again with that desire to kill. He desperately forced himself into calm, seeking more palatable explanations.
He could not think of a one.
Jehanne could have no good reason to leave the safety of her home, where she had been commanded to stay.
Perhaps she knew about the bowman, knew he had been tracking Galeran for days, waiting for an opportunity to kill him and still escape to claim the reward. If Jehanne had been waiting for news of her husband's death, then news of his safe return could have thrown her into a panic, causing her to flee to the nearest refuge.
Though the explanation had a certain plausibility, it didn't sit right in his mind. It didn't fit with what he knew of his wife, and it left Jehanne's warning letter unexplained Of course that could have been a skillful attempt to deflect suspicion.
Hell's flames, nothing made sense anymore! Galeran wasn't sure he would recognize sense these days if it snarled in his face.
A few days ago he would have sworn that Jehanne was the same honorable woman he had always known, that her sin had somehow been an aberration. Now he couldn't help but wonder if he'd been duped by hopes and lust.
He went over and over her behavior, from the moment he'd found her waiting for him in the hall to when she'd left him alone with a broken bed.
He sought truth, he sought understanding. He found only confusion.
Eventually he did sleep, to be woken by the dawn chorus poorly rested and chilled by the dew. Spots of rust were already mixed with the dried blood on his second-best mail. Cuthbert would have yet more reason to complain.
He stood and stretched, then went to study Burstock, determined to have done with foolishness.
As soon as he decided what foolishness was.
Lars, the guard on watch, shook his head to indicate nothing had happened yet. But cocks were crowing, and somewhere inside the walls a dog barked.
As the sun turned the sky pink and gold, people straggled up the road to the castle from the nearby village, and the great gates swung open to let others out. Two came out on horseback.
Galeran tensed and studied them, but didn't think they were men of his.
They certainly weren't Jehanne and Lowick riding south.
The sun rose higher, and in fields down by the river work began. Raoul had come to stand beside Galeran, and his stomach growled. Doubtless all their stomachs were complaining. There was no point in staying here until they all starved to death.
"Very well," Galeran said, "let's go down and see what the story is."
They saddled the horses and headed back aways to rejoin the road out of sight of the castle. Then they rode up to the gates, banner unfurled.
Believing that Jehanne had taken refuge there, Galeran expected to be stopped, but the guards at the gate just raised their spears in acknowledgment and waved them through. Too late, Galeran wondered if this was another trap, but in a world turned crazy, he'd still be ready to swear that Jehanne's uncle Hubert was incapable of base deceit.
He looked around cautiously, however, trying to sense betrayal. All he saw was the ordinary bustle of a peacetime castle.
The bailey here contained the old manor house as well as the usual shelters for animals and workshops for the craftsmen. In fact, it was more like a small village than a castle compound. People chatted as they passed, children played among strutting poultry, women pummeled wash in big tubs.
Stable grooms ran forward to take the