legs buckling as he fell headlong into blackness.
He felt himself being lifted by two pairs of hands and carried along, then laid on something softness. Faintly, in the distance, he heard a voice saying his name. He tried desperately to ignore it, to go back to the darkness, but the voice persisted. Try as he might, he could not return to the peaceful dark. He knew that he would feel truly terrible if he made the effort to open his eyes, and yet the voice compelled him. He gave in.
"Thank God!" said the voice. "He has only fainted after all. Jervis, say something what has happened to you? Where have you been?"
The room dipped and swayed, dazzling him with a rain of bright spots that danced in front of his eyes. He blinked carefully, and they began to fade. He turned his head in the direction of the voice, very slowly, and saw Madeleine beside him, with Joan peering anxiously over her shoulder. The thoughts came crowding into his head: Sir Roger dead, killed by an arrow, and Madeleine his wife, here beside him. Did she know what had happened to her husband. Could she know, so soon?
"Madeleine," he said, slowly and with difficulty saying the words, his tongue oddly thick in his dry mouth. "I saw I saw -"
Madeleine patted his hand, soothingly.
"I know what you saw," she said, gently. "I know that my husband was killed accidentally today, while the King was out hunting. You do not have to tell me, Jervis. I have been told already."
Jervis stared at her, his mind working through the words. She had been told that her husband was the victim of a hunting accident! Then he remembered his conversation with Earl de Warenne. This was how they were to account for the murder then as an accident. It relieved his mind to some extent, as Madeleine would cope better with the idea of a husband killed thus, than if she were to know that he had been murdered. He closed his lips firmly, and vowed silently never to tell her the truth.
BOSON BOOKS
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Belaset’s Daughter
Lying there, listening to the women talking softly to each other as they placed cool flannels on his forehead, he pondered on what he should say had caused him to faint in such a foolish manner. The answer came to him, suddenly.
"What time is it?" he asked. "How long was I lying in a faint before you found me?"
"No time at all," said Joan, briskly. "My lady was on her way to eat, when she saw you sway and fall a short distance from her. It was not long since."
Jervis managed a sheepish grin.
"I was sampling some of the monks’ wine on an empty stomach," he said, trying to sound rueful.
"Did I not tell you!" said Joan, triumphantly. "He smelt of drink I told you he did,
when I first bent over him!"
Madeleine looked doubtfully at Jervis.
"You do not usually drink until you pass out," she said.
"I do not usually drink monkish brews," retorted Jervis. "This was their elderflower wine, and deceptively strong. I have not eaten all; day, and it tasted like a light, refreshing drink. So I drank more than I should have done, and far too quickly; its fumes went straight up to my brain and swirled there in a most pleasing manner. Or so I thought . . ."
He let his voice trail away. Joan clucked disapprovingly, but said nothing. Madeleine continued to look doubtful, but something in his face must have warned her to say no more. She decided, visibly, to accept his explanations and to ask no further questions.
"Well , Jervis, you are still a foolish youth sometimes, I perceive," she said, sternly. "If your dizziness has passed, I suggest you return to your quarters and prepare to join the feasting as soon as you can. Let us hope that our absence has not been noticed by anyone who will report our discourtesy to the King."
"Or to my Lord de Warenne," said Jervis.
He sat up, carefully, and swung his legs to the floor. The room stayed as it should, he was relieved to note, so he stood up, slowly. Everything remained steady.
"I will join you as soon as I am cleaned and changed, and fit for His Majesty’s eye," he said, with a jauntiness he was far from feeling, and left the chamber.
He made his way to his own quarters, if a space for his bedding and a small chest could be s dignified