Page 15 of While Angels Slept
“Tell the men to get some rest and we shall speak on the morrow,” he said. “I shall sleep with Val in case she needs anything.”
Simon nodded. “Very good, my lord.”
With a wave of his hand, Tevin dismissed him. At some point, he realized that Hunt was walking over to him, winding his way amongst the wounded on the floor. The yellow dog followed behind. When Huntreached him, he stood there looking up at him, chewing on his bread.
“Are you hungry?” the child asked.
Tevin shook his head. “Nay, boy. I am here to look after my wounded.”
Hunt took another big bite of bread. “Mam already did that.”
“Where is your mother?”
“In the yard.”
Tevin nodded his thanks for the information and proceeded to the exit of the keep. The kitchens and yard were on the opposite side of the bailey. It took him a moment to realize that Hunt and the dog were trailing after him.
“I thaw the dead men,” Hunt said as they crossed the dusty ward. “Are you going to give them grand funerals?”
Tevin looked down at him, a disapproving expression across his brow. “Why did your mother allow you to see dead men?”
Hunt had finished his bread, but there were crumbs all over his face. He gazed up at Tevin with blue-eyed innocence. “They were in the ward. I thaw them. One of them had arrowth sticking out of him.”
Just like Brac.Tevin didn’t know what to say so it was best that he say nothing. As they neared the kitchen enclosure, he spied a few women in the yard, bent over a large iron cauldron. It was steaming furiously and they were removing pieces of cloth from the boiling brew with big sticks. Even in the darkness of the bailey, he could see great clotheslines of boiled rags strewn all over the yard.
As he stood at the threshold to the enclosure, Cantia suddenly emerged from the warm, moist kitchen with a tray in her hands. She spoke to the servants stirring the pot, asking them to add more lye to the mixture. The bandages were for the wounded and she wanted to make sure that they were clean. Then she spied Tevin and Hunt at the yard gate.
“My lord,” she headed straight for him. “I was just coming to find you. I thought perhaps you might like something to eat.”
As Tevin gazed at her, he quickly realized one thing; he was glad tosee her. “And I was coming to find you to discover the state of my wounded,” he said steadily.
“Perhaps we should go into the keep and discuss it while you eat.”
He merely nodded, allowing her to lead the way. Hunt raced to his mother’s side, holding her hand as they retraced their steps across the bailey. Tevin followed along behind, his eyes alternately scanning the ward and scanning Cantia. He tried not to watch her, the smooth sway of her slender backside, instead focusing on their surroundings. It had long been a habit, as it was the habit of most knights, to be constantly aware of his surroundings. Threats often lingered in the shadows. But no threat this night could capture his attention more than Cantia’s graceful figure.
Somewhere during the day, she had donned a heavy linen apron and tied a kerchief around her head to keep her gorgeous hair out of her eyes. The garments were simple, course even, but she still wore them like a goddess. The woman could wear nothing that made her look bad. But more than that, her spirit seemed much improved. She had greeted him with a clear, even expression and had even smiled, however faint. He was pleased to see that she appeared in a better state of mind.
Entering the cool, dark keep, she took the food into a small alcove directly off the entry. It was barely large enough for three people, but there was a small table and an even smaller hearth that smoked and sparked as she set the food down. Tevin stood just outside of the doorway until he realized that she wanted him to come in and sit down. He did so, silently, as she removed the cloth covering the contents of the tray. A large piece of bread, butter, a pitcher of wine and a knuckle of beef await him.
“I thought you said you weren’t hungry,” Hunt was standing beside him, puzzled, as he eyed the food.
He looked at the boy. “Your mother had gone to much effort to feed me. The least I can do is eat.”
Hunt looked up at his mother. “I’m hungry, too.”
She put her hand on his head. “You ate enough for three people earlier this eve.”
“But I’m still hungry!”
Before Cantia could reply, Tevin tore his bread in two and handed the boy a chunk. “Here.”
“Butter, too?”
Tevin indicated the butter and knife, to which Hunt helped himself generously. The lad pulled up a chair and sat next to Tevin, eventually picking at the beef knuckle. Cantia pulled his hand back the first time he tried.
“Nay, Hunt,” she admonished. “This is his lord’s meal. Consider yourself honored that he has shared his bread with you. Do not ask for more.”
Tevin tore a big piece of beef off the bone and handed it to the boy. His dark eyes looked up at her. “The worst I can tell him is no. There is no harm in asking for more. Most ambitious men do that, and then some.”
