“Why do we not simply tie both of them to the stake, naked, back to back?”
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Her eyes glittered. “I like the way your mind snaps to the perfect pun-
• hment. You said that Sir Roger sees nothing wrong with what he has A e to your mother. I would imagine that because he treated her with
• Difference the two women you picked to care for her became quickly h rdened. I don’t know where the second woman is. Your mother is very thin Severin. Her feet are very bad-she was barefooted the entire time she was hiding in the forest-but I have treated them as best I can and bandaged them with clean linen. I have given her some of the potion the Healer prepared. She is sleeping now, in one of my night shifts. Her clothes were filthy. This fat woman probably ate all your mother’s food.”
“Where have you put her?”
Hastings smiled slowly. “In the chamber Sir Roger moved her out of. In the lord’s chamber. I had two of the servants move in a small cot for her. She is now sleeping on clean covers and she herself is now clean. Do you mind sharing with your mother?”
He shook his head.
“I, ah, had all of Sir Roger’s clothing and possessions and those of his mistress moved to the small chamber where they had put your mother.”
“I like the way your brain works as well, Hastings. Excellent. I wish to question Sir Roger more closely. His mistress is visiting in the village, he told me, but she should return soon. Then, very briefly, before he escaped me, he complained that the money I have sent has not been enough to accomplish anything. It has bought only enough food to keep the people from starving. That isn’t right.” He stopped, cursed, then fell again to pacing.
Hastings looked about the hall. “This is very strange, Severin. Sir
Roger is still gone. We are very nearly alone here. What is happening?”
I don’t know. Gwent and our men are looking about to see what
needs to be done to the barracks, to the keep itself, and to the peasants’
cottages and the fields. It doesn’t look very hopeful, Hastings.”
“T
J^o matter. You will fix it. I wish the man would return so that you maY question him.”
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“We will see once he returns. I believe he was so surprised at My anger that he wanted to take himself off, perhaps speak to his mistress and decide how best to deal with me. Aye, I shall tie them both to a stake in the village.”
She laughed. It was the first sound Sir Roger heard when he came into the dim hall, his mistress, Glenda, behind him. All would be well. His heart slowed. He realized the moment the words had escaped his mouth that Lord Severin wasn’t pleased to hear him complain about the money he had sent to Langthorne. Then he had seen Gwent just outside the hall and the look the lout had given him had shriveled him to his toes. Thurston had looked grim. That mangy bastard betrayed him, had sent the messenger to Lord Severin. He could give him orders, but he could not have him whipped. He was Lord Severin’s man. Damnation.
It was true that he had panicked when Lord Severin had come from seeing his mother. He had seemed angry. But why? She was alive, wasn’t she? He, Sir Roger, had found her. The mad old woman wasn’t worth more than a man’s spit. No, Lord Severin would have to reward him for finding that mad old crone. He would give him another bag of coins. Aye, everything would be all right. Still, he thought to pray as he moved forward.
“My lord, my lady,” he called, his voice complacent now, with more tha*teaeugh deference to please the master. “I am pleased that you are here, though your visit is a surprise. Your dear mother is fine, just as I told you. The women you selected have cared well for her, except that the second one died so now there is just one.”