‘Alyn Shortblade,’ said Will. Ill have the old bastard one of these days. What was I saying?”
‘Can’t remember, something about buildings going up and immigrants coming in,’ answered Relph, pausing at a meat stall and helping himself to a salt beef sausage. The stall holder said nothing and looked away. Relph bit into the sausage. ‘Not bad,’ he said, ‘but too much cereal. Shouldn’t be allowed. Can’t rightly call it a sausage if there’s more bread than meat in it.’
The two moved slowly through Market Street, then down Baker’s Alley and into the main square, where the tents and marquees were being erected ready for Tournament Day. The sound of hammers on nails filled the square as workmen continued to build the high banked
seats for the nobles and their ladies and Will saw the slight, blond Lord Leofric directing operations. Beside him stood the Captain of the Watch. Will cursed softly. Relph tapped Will’s arm.
‘Let’s go back through Market Street,’ he advised. Will was about to agree when the Captain saw them. With an imperious flick of his finger he summoned them over. Will took a deep breath. He had no liking for the Captain, and worse, no respect. The man was a career soldier, but he cared nothing for the well being of his men.
Redgaer Kushir-bane, Knight of the Court, son of the Earl of Cordenia, did not wait for the soldiers to reach him. Arms clasped behind his back he strode towards them, his red beard jutting. ‘Well?’ he asked. ‘Caught any cutpurses?’
‘Not yet, sir,’ said Will, giving the clenched fist salute.
‘Hmmm. Nor will you if that stomach keeps spreading, man. I’ll have no lard bellies under my command.’
‘Yes, sir.’ It was futile to offer any form of argument, as Will Stamper had long ago discovered to his cost. Happily for Will the Captain turned his attention to Relph.
‘There is no shine to your buckle, man, and your helmet plume looks like it’s been used to wipe a horse’s arse. That’s a five copper fine, and you will report to my adjutant for extra duty.’
‘Yes, sir,’ said Relph meekly.
‘Well, get on with your rounds,’ commanded Redgaer spinning on his heel, his red cloak swirling out.
‘What a goat-brain,’ whispered Relph. ‘Yourplume looks like it’s been used to wipe a hone’s arse,’ he mimicked. ‘More likely it was used to brush his tongue after he’d dropped on his knees to kiss the Baron’s rear.’ Will chuckled, and the two soldiers continued on their way through Tanner Street and back into the market.
‘Whoa, look at that!’ said Relph, pointing. Will saw the object of his attention and let out a low whistle. A tall woman was moving through the market, her hair shining silver despite her youth, and on her left fist sat a red hawk. ‘Look at the legs on that girl, Will. All the way up to the neck. And what an arse, tight, firm. I tell you, I wouldn’t crawl across her to get to you!”
‘Bit thin for my taste,’ said the older man, ‘but she walks well, I’ll say that. She’s a Highlander.’
‘How do you know? Just because she’s wearing buckskins? Lot of Lowlanders wear buckskins.’
‘Look at the way she moves,’ said Will. ‘Proud, arrogant. Nah … Highlander. They’re all like that. I see she’s not wearing a marriage bangle.’ As they watched they saw the hawk suddenly bait, wings flapping in panic. The woman calmed it, gently stroking its red head.
‘She could stroke me like that,’ said Relph. ‘A bit lower down, though. Come on, let’s talk to her.’
‘What for?’
‘I go off duty at dusk. You never know your luck.’
‘I’ll bet that five-copper fine that she’s not interested.’
‘And I’ll bet you I’ll spear her by midnight!’
‘You arrogant son of a bitch,’ said Will, with a smile. ‘I’m going to enjoy watching you cut down to size.’ The two soldiers angled through the crowd, coming alongside the woman as she stood by the dried fruit stall.
‘Good morning miss,’ said Will. ‘That’s a fine bird.’
The woman offered a fleeting smile. ‘She hunts well,’ was all she said, then she turned away.