Belaset's Daughter - By Feona J Hamilton Page 0,113
Sir Roger’s honour. There is no call for any other reputation to ever attach to him. His family must not suffer for his deeds."
"I understand, Sire," said Jervis. "I give you my word that no-one else shall hear this story."
De Warenne leant close to the King and murmured.
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"You need have no fear for the rest of the de Tourneys, Sire" he said. "Jervis is very fond of them and very close to them. Is that not so, Jervis," he said, turning to his squire.
Jervis blushed scarlet.
"As you say, my lord," he said, meekly.
Henry nodded slowly, gazing at Jervis and seeing his discomfiture with some amusement.
"We will say no more on that score," he said. "But, Jervis, you will come to me in the morning, and we will talk further about this whole matter. I have a task for you. Earl John will spare you for me, I am sure."
"As you wish, Sire," said de Warenne. "It is my honour and Jervis’s, that you should use him as you will."
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CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Jervis shuddered with cold as he doused his head with the freezing water from the pump. He had woken from a heavy sleep, with a thumping headache and a foul taste in his mouth to remind him of the previous night’s events. The feasting with the King had been a high point in his life so far, he decided, and well worth the discomfort he was suffering now. The icy water cleared his mind and his headache, and he rubbed his hair until it was almost dry on a rough cloth. A few splashes on his surcote would soon dry, so he left them, but his face he rubbed briskly, until his cheeks were scarlet from the treatment.
Feeling much refreshed, he went off in search of something to eat. The hall where the King had feasted the night before was still in a shambles. Boys and men lay snoring in huddled groups, or alone, in corners and under trestles. One or two of the Abbey’s lay helpers picked their way among them, distaste plain on their faces, as they tried to make some inroad into the chaos of discarded bones, upturned ale jugs and other more unpleasant detritus.
Jervis approached one of them, trying out his considerable charm in a smile.
"Where might I find something to break my fast?" he said.
The man looked at him with a surly expression.
"The buttery is over there," he said, with a jerk of his head. "You might find something if there’s anything left after last night. Never seen anything like it before, I haven’t."
"My thanks," said Jervis, and escaped before the man could say any more. He felt some guilt at the way that the Abbey had been invaded, but, he thought to himself, what did they expect? As far as he knew, it had been a perfectly ordinary event in the life of the Court. The King, in a good mood after a day’s hunting, had enjoyed an equally good meal.
So had his courtiers and the rest of the retinue. There had been little drunkenness and no brawling, and most people had retired at a reasonable hour, following Henry’s example.
What was there for anyone to grumble about?
He shrugged and pushed through the door. Behind it lay a passage that led to the kitchens, along which wafted an appetising smell of baking bread. Jervis’s stomach rumbled and he quickened his pace. The buttery, which he glanced into in passing, was empty of food and people. He barely broke his stride, before hurrying on.
The kitchen, when he entered it, was warm and bustling, and reminded him, with a sudden pang of homesickness, of the one in Lewes Castle. There was the usual large fireplace, set in a corner, with a fire burning in it, and pots slung above. The usual small BOSON BOOKS
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boy sat beside the spit, ready to stir the contents of a pot, or to dodge a cuff from the cook, whichever came his way.
On a table in the middle of the room stood a wooden platter with several small new loaves piled on it.
Jervis walked over to the table and casually picked up one of the loaves. The boy by the fire was staring at him, so Jervis winked as he broke off a chunk of the delicious warm bread, and stuffed it into his mouth. Taking the rest of the bread with him, he sauntered over to one side of the room, in search of something to drink.