Because neither Foster nor Webster would consider riding their tired horses, Collier’s errand boy had no choice but to walk as well; the three officers trailed by a trooper leading the sleek, shiny, high-stepping horse, and by a second carrying the two sets of Tara-steel cutlery intended for the King and his marshal. In tacit agreement, Foster and Webster maneuvered the flashy young officer between them and deliberately made their way through the wettest and foulest quagmires of the camp streets. Twice, Webster’s long sword “accidentally” found its way between the now mud-coated legs of the once dapper Sussexer. The first time, he sat down forcefully and with a mighty splash; the second, his arms flailing futilely, he measured his length, face first, in a soft ooze of fecal-smelling muck.
The pavillion proved to be quite near to the royal complex. Arrived, the muddy and foul-odored Sussexer turned Foster. and Webster over to a dried-up wisp of a little man who led them into a lamp-lit anteroom, instructed a pair of servitors to sponge the worst of the soil from their boots, then danced about them, chattering while his orders were performed.
“Goodness me, young Edwin takes orders too literally, yes he does. His Grace said immediately, but you gentlemen should have been allowed time to array yourself decently, indeed yes.
“And young Edwin, himself, tchtch, haste makes waste, oh yes; the lad looks as if he’d ottered here on his belly, goodness gracious, but he does.”
When their footwear met the oldster’s critical taste, he ushered them through several more canvas-walled chambers, fetching up in a larger one which obviously was a guardroom. Two captains, one of the Sussex Legion and one of the King’s Own Heavy Horse, sat on either side of a brazier, sipping ale and conversing in hushed tones. They arose when they spied the newcomers, and the King’s Own officer strode over to them, spurs jingling, boots creaking.
These be the gentlemen-officers summoned by Earl William, Corwin?” At the oldster’s nod, he bespoke Foster, “We twain ne’er have met, Squire Forster, but I know ye by repute, and all know of the mighty Captain Webster. Welcome, gentlemen. I fear I must request that you leave your swords in this room, your dirks as well, none save guardsmen are allowed to go armed beyond this point.”
When Foster set down the bundle, in order to remove his baldric, one of the Irish daggers clattered out.
“What’s this? What’s this?” The Sussex captain half-drew his broadsword.
“They’re two broadswords and two daggers of Tara steel,” said Foster. “I captured them on the beach and we have brought them to present to His Majesty and to Earl William. The cloak in which they’re wrapped came off the corpse of an Irish nobleman.”
The first captain drew one of the trophies and fingered the blade, flexed u% and returned it to its case. “A princely gift, sirs, a princely gift indeed, but you cannot bear them into His Grace’s presence. I will do it, however.”
“God, you sthink, Mr. Foster.” Collier wrinkled his nose, waving a pomander of spices under it.
Foster snapped coldly, “You would, too, had you spent the last two weeks in the saddle, Professor Collier. Now, what’s so urgent? What d’you want with us? We’re tired and hungry and thirsty and very dirty, as you just noted. Spit it out, man, I want a bath and a feed. You’ve got it too damned hot in here, too. And what the hell are you burning hi those braziers? The place smells like a Hindu whorehouse.”
Thick layers of carpets lay underfoot in the tent chamber, and others hung in place to conceal the canvas walls. Collier sat behind a long, heavy table, and, for all the sweltering heat cast by three huge braziers of polished bronze, he was wrapped in a full length cassock of thick, rich samite, with a velvet cap on his head and a gairbhe or thick shawl of shepherd plaid across his round shoulders. One gloved hand held t white linen cloth with which he intermittently dabbed at a dripping nose.
“I am afflicted with a virus, Mr. Foster. I have been for ten days and I need medical attention. You are to ride up to Whyffler Hall and fetch back Miss … ah, Dr. Kent, along with any anticongestants and antibiotics she has left”