Free The Reckoning - 3 by Sharon Kay Penman Page A

said in a normal tone of voice that he owed his host some new crockeryas if that flare of killing rage had never been. Others did not find it so easy to forget. Hugh in particular was unsettled by what he'd seen, for it made him doubt his own judgment. He knew that Bran still bled, but Guy had seemed impervious to the past, so much so that Hugh even resented him a little for it, wondering why Bran must bear such deep scars when Guy bore so few. Now he knew better and wished he did not.
THE one most affected by Guy's outburst was his brother. Bran began drinking in earnest even before the broken crockery was cleared away.
    40
By midnight he was well and truly drunk, and was still badly hungover when he stumbled down to the great hall the next morning. Christians were expected to abstain from breakfast during Lent, but even the devout often found appetites overcoming obedience, and a number of men were helping themselves to tankards of ale and chunks of bread, soothing their consciences by eschewing butter.
Others, those who had followed Bran's example, slumped on benches looking greensick, sip^>kig ale or herbal potions supposed to cure a morning-after malaise.
Waving aside Noel's offer of hot bread, Bran drained a flagon of wine much too quickly, and, to the dismay of his squires, demanded another. Hugh had attempted to coax Bran to bed the night before, and in consequence, got his first taste of the fabled de Montfort temper. He was not eager to sample any more of it, but he watched Bran with growing unease, for they were meeting that forenoon with Charles and the King of France. In their months together, Hugh had never seen Bran publicly drunk, except for that night in Wales, when fever and mead had proved to be such a potent mixture. But he'd never seen his lord start drinking so early in the day, and he hovered about anxiously until
Bran curtly told him to help Noel in saddling their horses. Even then he retreated from the hall with reluctance, with backward glances that Bran was determined to ignore. As fond as he was of Hugh, he was in no mood this morning to bear the burden of the boy's devotion.
Noel was worried, too, about Bran, but he and Hugh were well past the point where they could share anything, even a mutual concern, and they headed for the stables in sullen silence. Friday the 13th was believed to be a day of ill omen, but after yesterday's torrential rains, the morning seemed off to a promising start. The sky was an infinite, azure blue, and the air was cold but very clear, as if the night's storm had washed the world clean.
Niccold di Tavena was already in the stables, tightening the girth on the
Count's flashy white stallion. He beckoned hastily at sight of them. "Who is
Henry of Almain and what is he to the de Montforts?"
It was an unexpected question. They exchanged quizzical looks, then answered almost in the same breath, Hugh saying, "Their cousin," and Noel, "Their enemy."
Niccol6 frowned. "Which is it?"
"Both." Before Hugh could elaborate, Noel seized control of the conversation.
"He is the eldest son of the English King's brother Richard, which makes him a first cousin to the de Montforts and the Lord Edward. They're all roughly of an age, grew up together, and he was once a fervent supporter of the Lord
Simon. He claimed to believe in the Earl's reforms, but then he renounced his allegiance, at a time when Lord Simon most needed his backing. The de
Montforts saw it as a betrayal,
    41
and there has been bad blood between them ever since. Why? The last we heard, he was on crusade with the Lord Edward. What put him in your mind this morn?"
"He's herein Viterbo. It seems he arrived four days ago, with the two Kings. A
couple of the English knights saw him in the marketplace. I heard them a few moments ago outside the stables; Walter de Baskerville was vowing to tell the de Montforts, and the other man was arguing against it, right vehemently, too.
So I wondered who he was"
"De Baskerville? We just