Murder for Christ's Mass - By Maureen Ash Page 0,13
task, to take a seat alongside Lambert. Normally Gianni would wait until Bascot had eaten his meal before he was allowed to get his own food, but the day of Christ’s Mass was one of leniency and goodwill, and the Templar felt that the boy, whose eyes were shining with expectation as he dished up his master’s food, could be allowed the laxity. The rest of the household knights seated alongside Bascot were allowing their servants the same liberty and, on the dais, Nicolaa de la Haye gave the pages serving the high table leave to join in the feast. Even the cook and kitchen scullions sat down at a table near the door and helped themselves to the food they had spent so many hours preparing.
The air of merriment increased as tumblers entered the hall and began to cavort among the throng, playing silly tricks as they did so. Some snatched apples from the very mouths of those who were eating them and made them disappear, while others surprised the serving maids by pretending to pull bright ribbons from the necks of their gowns. As the acrobats amused the company, the musicians strolled around the perimeter of the room, playing merry tunes.
As Bascot looked across at Gianni, who was hungrily tucking into the leg of a goose, the Templar once again felt a pang of sadness that he would be leaving Lincoln in a few months’ time. It had not been so very long since he had decided it would be necessary for him to leave the Templar Order to ensure the safety of Gianni’s welfare. It had only been through the intervention of Amery St. Maur, master of the Templar Order in England, that Bascot’s sacrifice had not been necessary. St. Maur had given Bascot sanction to remain in Lincoln until next Eastertide while Gianni completed his training as a clerk and, at the end of that time, if the boy showed competence, Nicolaa de la Haye had promised Gianni a post in her retinue. Since then, Gianni had applied himself to his studies with an industry that gave no doubt he would win the castellan’s approval and realise his dream of becoming a clerk. Pride in the boy’s accomplishments warred with regret in Bascot’s heart. He longed to rejoin his Templar brothers in their battle against the infidel but, at the same time, he knew he would sorely miss the young lad.
John Blund saw the emotion that clouded the Templar’s face and spoke in a whisper too soft for Gianni to hear. “Do not be concerned for the boy, Sir Bascot. Once you are gone from Lincoln, I assure you I will personally oversee his welfare and, if the infirmities of old age or my death should make me incapable of fulfilling that duty, Lady Nicolaa has promised to take my place.”
“I know that, Master Blund, and am grateful for it,” Bascot replied earnestly. “But I shall miss his company all the same.”
“And he yours,” Blund rejoined. “But even though both of your lives will change after you are gone from Lincoln, your affection for one another will not. Many a father would wish such closeness with his son as you have with Gianni. It is a true blessing and should be cherished, even if it must be done in absence.”
Bascot accepted the wisdom in the secretary’s words and both men resumed their enjoyment of the viands on their trenchers. Some moments later, Blund spoke again, inclining his head in the direction of the high table. “It would seem young Master Stephen is most interested in the way Gianni is conversing with Lambert.”
Bascot glanced up and saw that Turville’s son was watching intently as Gianni moved his hands quickly in Lambert’s direction, conveying how much he was enjoying the food on his plate by pointing to his trencher, his mouth and his stomach in rapid succession, then giving a light clap of his hands. Lambert nodded in response and then remarked that he wished they could eat such fare at every meal, and Gianni made another quick movement of his fingers in a signal of hearty agreement. At the high table, Stephen Turville placed his hand on Lucia’s arm to get her attention and pointed in Gianni’s direction.
“Because of his impediment, Turville’s boy speaks little,” Blund said. “And even when he does, there are few that can understand him, his speech is so distorted. I think he is admiring the way in which Gianni, despite his muteness,