Part 24 (2/2)
A spark of indignation made her stiffen. ”I am not without humor!”
”Aye, it's been there all along.” He slipped the gown over her shoulders and down, stripping it from her completely, and as he worked on divesting her of the rest of her clothing, he said, ”But you do make me think I'm a wizard.”
Sir David's face loomed above me where I slept on my pallet in the great hall, and his hand shook my shoulder. ”Get up, Eudo. I need you.”
It never crossed my mind to question his command. I stumbled to my feet, rubbing my eyes, and pulled my short cape over my clothes. I think he had to help me-no one wakes an eleven-year-old boy after a strenuous day without having to fight the lingering consequences of sleep.
The others in the great hall rolled away from us, but no one grumbled. Sir David had reestablished himself as a legend once again, and we all knew our safety depended on his experience.
The rush lights on the wall flickered eerily as he led me by the hand to the outer door, then we stepped outside into the darkest night I'd ever beheld. The cool air slapped me awake and Sir David asked, ”Can you walk now?”
I nodded and stifled a yawn, and we moved toward the drawbridge. The men-at-arms challenged us before we even knocked, and Sir David mumbled, ”Good. They're nervous.”
His whispered instructions took only a moment, then two of the men-at-arms disappeared and the chains that held the drawbridge rattled. The sound carried through the still night like the clatter of a corpse's bones, and my skinny knees knocked in sudden alarm.
The drawbridge was never lowered at night, certainly not after an attack like the one that had occurred that day. But without hesitation, Sir David strode across the planks and I followed. I had no desire to leave the castle, but if I had to go, I wanted to keep nigh to my lord.
”Not so close, lad.” Sir David craned his neck and looked at the starry sky. ”Don't you want to know our destination?”
I did, but I didn't think I would like the reply.
”We're going to the churchyard.” Sir David looked down at me and I thought I saw him grin, although his mouth was nothing more than a black hole in the dim glow of his face. ”What do you think of that?”
I thought he was mad, but wisely kept my own council. Instead I tentatively suggested, ”If you have need to pray, Sir David, there's a chapel in the keep.”
”I don't want to pray. I want to visit the graves in the village church.”
I crossed myself and with a boy's hysteria wondered why Sir David's eye sockets appeared empty.
Set on a rise above the village, the church stood apart from the other buildings, and the graveyard sloped off to the side toward the forest. I hoped in my deepest heart Sir David jested, and he would lead me somewhere, anywhere but there.
But nay, the damp gra.s.s beneath our feet made squeaking noises as we cut a straight line across the meadow.
Sir David seemed utterly at ease in the darkness, moving with the poise of a cat and speaking in a cheerful tone that eased a little of my paralyzing fear. ”Are all of Lady Alisoun's family buried there?” he asked.
”Some of them. The older graves are there. The more recently dead were laid to rest within the church under the altar.”
”Are the villagers still buried there?”
”Aye, sir, although not close to Lady Alisoun's family.”
”The countess's family is set apart?”
I nodded, although I knew he couldn't see me. ”By a fence, aye.”
”So no one has been buried in the family plot for years?”
”No family has been buried there for years, but if a visitor is taken sick and dies, we bury them with honor in that place.”
”Ahh.” Sir David's exhale sounded like he'd had a revelation. ”Has anyone died and been buried there recently?”
”Oh, nay. The last time anyone was buried there was clear last winter.”
”That is a very long time ago,” Sir David agreed. ”Who was it?”
”My lady's friend and her babe came to visit, but they sickened and died within two days.”
”Who was this lady?”
”The d.u.c.h.ess of Framlingford.”
Sir David stumbled and almost went down.
I grabbed for him. ”Are you ill, sir?”
His hand found my shoulder, and he pressed it. ”Afraid you'll be left alone out here?”
I saw no reason to lie. ”Aye, sir.”
”The moon is rising. See?” Sir David pointed toward the eastern horizon, and indeed, I saw a white glow on the mountain tops. ”You could find your way back, even by yourself, but to tell you the truth, I doubt anyone is mad enough to come out so late.”
”Except maybe the man who hurt Sir Walter and tried to hurt my lady.” My low voice wavered abominably, but Sir David heard.
”So you think he's mad, too?”
”I hope so, sir,” I said fervently. ”I hope he's obviously raving mad, for I don't want to think he's someone who walks among us undetected.”
”Well said.” Sir David didn't offer any rea.s.surance, however.
I noted that, and started walking close on his heels again.
”Tell me what happened with the d.u.c.h.ess of Framlingford.”
I searched my memory. I hadn't really paid much attention, and at that time in my life, the previous winter seemed eons ago. ”The d.u.c.h.ess was a friend of my lady's, I recollect, and apparently had come for a visit to Beckon. That's one of my lady's other castles.”
”Why?”
”I don't know, sir.”
”I thought you might have heard gossip.”
”There's not much gossip about my lady. Never before has she given us anything to gossip about.”
”Before me, you mean.”
I knew better than to answer that, but Sir David didn't seem to require a reply.
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