“Then you will forget that you were serious in your threat. All is still well. You are right, Hastings. Sir Roger is a fool. Ah, here he comes. This should prove interesting.”
Severin knew in his gut that there were coins missing from the thick eather pouch. He could see it in Sir Roger’s eyes, see it in the nervous movements of his hand when he handed Severin the pouch, see his guilt ln e sheen of sweat on his forehead. And, he supposed, that is what made P is mind. He counted out the coins on the trestle table and frowned down at them.
What did you plan to do with the money? ” Severin asked, not mov-
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ing, just standing there tall and strong and dark-browed as the Devil him self.
“I was waiting, my lord, waiting to see what was really needed.”
“Was I not very clear in my instructions? Have you not viewed the holes in the outer walls? Have you not seen the devastated fields? Have you not remarked the sullen faces all about you? By Saint Andrew’s eyeballs, you have done nothing but clothe yourself and your mistress. You have not even limed the jakes. The stench is overwhelming. Damnation man, you’d best pray that the meal you will feed us reflects your buying of decent food.”
“I have held your money close, my lord,” Sir Roger said, and he looked scared now, very scared. “I have waited, but what is wrong with that? I have been here but a month and a half. Surely that is a very short time to expect anything. Surely. Besides, you should not have come here for another half year, at least.”
Glenda crept into the great hall. There were more clothes in her
• arms. She was not shaking like Sir Roger, but she looked as if she were on her way to judgment and knew herself guilty. She was.
“Hastings,” Severin said. “I would that you examine all the clothing she has brought us and select those things you think would suit my mother.”
Qfentîa squawked. “My lord, nay! Your esteemed mother is much thinner than I am. Your esteemed mother does not even know what her name is usually. There is no reason to give her lovely clothes. She would not know the difference. She would spit her food upon the gowns. She would piss on the shifts.”
^ Severin said very quietly, “It matters not what you believe. You are
speaking of my mother. If you ever speak about her like that again, I will ensure that Hastings makes you bleed your life away. See to the clothes, Hastings.” He added to Glenda, “You will oversee the meal now. I as” sume that it is one of your tasks, to oversee the servants?”
She nodded, head down.
“Take Sir Roger with you. Sir Roger, make certain there are no
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es in the flour. I like my bread to be soft on the inside. Ah, Gwent, I
triad you are come. We have much to discuss.”
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Gwent spat on the reeds as he watched Sir Roger and his mistress walk ickly from the great hall. “Will you skewer the mangy whoreson?”
“I am thinking about that.” He pointed down to the piles of coins. “At least the fool did not spend it all on his mistress. But he did spend a goodly oortion. I wonder why many men lose their wits over simple females?”
Gwent would not have gone near an answer to that inquiry. He merely looked grim, which is what he felt, and waited.
“What say you, Gwent, if Thurston takes over here?”
“He’ll whip the arses of every healthy peasant in the area to rebuild Langthorne and plant the fields and repair their cottages. Aye, and they’ll give him loyalty once their bellies are filled again and they have decent garments to wear on their backs.”
“I think so as well.”
That night, Severin looked down at his sleeping mother. He was surprised at how young she looked in her sleep, young and very clean. Hastings had combed her hair until it was dry, then braided it loosely. It looked soft and thick, a lovely pale brown. He said quietly as he backed away from the small cot, “I remember it was always thus. She would sleep and sleep and when she awoke, she would remember who she was and her mind would flow smoothly for a week or perhaps longer.”