A Lily on the Heath
Page 8

He looked up at Judith to see what her reaction would be to his bluntness. Her expression had turned sober. Even a little sad. “Aye. ’Tis difficult to be away from one’s home.”
Something in her tone prompted him to ask, “Have you not been to Lilyfare as of late?”
Judith laughed, but it was humor tinged with bitterness. “Nay, my lord. I’ve not been to my lands for six years. The queen has made this court my home, and I fear I will never see the green heath of Lilyfare until I am buried there. If perchance the queen will even allow that.” She laughed again, but he heard the strain beneath the lightness.
“I am sorry for that, my lady. But surely there are benefits to being in the confidence of the queen?” Malcolm could hardly fathom what benefits might overweigh the comfort and privacy of home, but he was doing his best to be gallant.
“Oh, aye, I mustn’t sound like I’m unhappy. I’m truly not,” Judith replied brightly. “There is always entertainment here and people to talk with—and play chess with,” she added with a sassy, more genuine smile. “And her majesty has been very good to me on many occasions.”
“And surely you have done aught for her, my lady, or she would not be so attached to you,” he reminded her.
“I copy her private letters for her betimes, and if she consults with someone, I often sit with her so I can help her recall the conversation. She considers me a friend as much as she considers anyone, I trow. I am very blessed to be in my position, my lord. Please excuse my moment of complaint.”
“Not at all, my lady. If it ’twere I, trapped here in this gilded cage of court, I should have more than a few complaints.”
She looked at him, startled. “I said very near the same thing to my maid this morrow—of being trapped in a gilded cage. Never being allowed to fly free.” Then she seemed to shake herself from the melancholy that overtook her. “But on the topic of flying free,” she said, her expression lighting up again, “the king made a most wondrous request of me this morn.”
Mal had noticed the king speaking to her and couldn’t help but wonder on the topic, for their conversation had seemed almost intimate in nature. “Indeed?”
“Aye. He has asked of me to find and train a hunting falcon for her majesty, because she is—oh!” Her eyes flew open and her hand covered her mouth. When she drew her fingers away, her full lips were curved in a secretive smile. “There goes my flapping tongue again! Gavin never ceases to remind me that I cannot seem to keep my mouth closed. Verily, my lord, I cannot say precisely the occasion for which the king wants the gift for his wife, but it is quite an honor to be asked.”
“Indeed,” Mal said again. He decided not to ask what—or, more accurately, whether—the king would pay for such a gift, for Judith seemed so pleased with the honor. “If your raptors are as well trained as those of your father, then the king would be foolish to ask it of any other falconer. The raptors of Lilyfare are well known.”
She smiled, her eyes crinkling sweetly at the corners. “Thank you, Mal—my lord. That is very kind of you to say. And aye—my birds are as well trained as those of Father’s. Mostly due to Tessing and his guidance,” she added modestly. “Mayhap you would care to come on a hunt with me? Then you may see for yourself…and mayhap you’ll request such a bridal gift for your future wife? If ’tis a fine enough present for the queen, then ’twould be a fine bride’s gift.” Her eyes were wide and ingenuous.
Mal couldn’t hold back a laugh. “Very well, Lady Judith. I shall take your recommendation into account.” Just then, Hugh de Rigonier moved into view, meeting his eyes purposefully. Mal nodded in assent and stood. “And now, I believe there is another gentleman who wishes to take on your challenge. Good morrow, my lady.”
THREE
The next morning was rainy and gray, and stayed that way all through the day. Judith found herself cloistered with the queen, who was still in the early months of her pregnancy and required much entertainment, fawning, and solace. By the time she returned to her chamber that night, Judith was exhausted and in dire need of privacy. She didn’t even regret missing dinner in the Great Hall and the visiting acrobats who entertained the court.
However, the next day dawned as different from the days before as possible: sunny with blue skies and nary a cloud to be seen.
“’Tis a perfect day to hunt for the queen’s falcon,” Judith told Tabatha as she looked out the window slit.
Her maid knew what that meant and pulled an old pair of men’s hose and a heavy sherte that fell nearly to Judith’s knees. She donned the masculine clothing then fastened an unfashionably wide leather belt around her waist. Its holes and ties were useful for attaching tools and other implements. She wore a pair of well-worn but sturdy boots and tucked the end of her single braid into the back of her belt to keep it from swinging into her way. Over this ensemble she pulled a wool cloak with a hood then fastened it at her throat with a heavy brooch.
When she searched for hunting birds, Judith was known to climb trees or over rocky terrain into small mountains in order to find their nests. It was no easy task, but one she enjoyed on most occasions. There was something exhilarating about being so high in a tree she could see for what seemed like leagues…not to mention wearing clothing that allowed such freedom of movement.
“Now, lady, I’m getting too old to folla you up into them branches,” Tessing told her when she informed him of her plans. They stood in the mews while she gathered up the items she needed for her task.
“And right you are,” she told him. “You’re to stay on the ground so if I fall, you can catch me.” This last she said with a jest and he rolled his eyes and shook his head, tsking.
“If’n yer pap was alive, he’d send me up after ye anyway,” said the elderly man. “Old bones or nay. Tell me if’n one hair on yer head was bent, I’d be hung by m’toes.”
“And now you’re jesting with me, Tessing, because we all know all my hair is bent and curly,” she teased her mentor. “And asides, Papa used to send me up in the trees for him when the branches were too delicate to bear his weight.”
“An’ he’d be on the ground the whole time, pacin’, waitin’ to catch you if’n you fell.”
“And I never did,” she reminded him, swinging a small leather bag over her shoulder. Inside was a hunk of cheese, two apples and some dried beef. She’d tucked a skin of watered-down wine into her belt. Now she took two live mice and a vole from the cages where Tessing kept them and stuffed them into a small wooden box-cage. The small rodents would be good bait for her trap, or food for a young hawk if she needed it, and then her captured bird could ride back in the empty cage. “I want you to stay here anyway, Tessing. Someone must take care of Hecate, Gall and Petrus. You know I may not return until late tonight, or even tomorrow.”
The nearest forest that could be inhabited by raptors was a two hours’ ride away. But it was near a shallow ridge of rocky hills, and there was a good chance one or both places would offer a selection of nests for Judith to raid.
“Sir Piall is coming with me,” she told him when he began to protest. “And dressed as a boy like I am, and him as a simple man-at-arms, the two of us will attract no unwanted attention. We’ll ride quicker if it’s only us, and I am not about to be naysaid,” she finished, her voice going a little steely. “This is a special gift for the queen, and I must find the right hawk. If I don’t find one today or on the morrow, then I’ll go back on another time.” Though she didn’t say so, Judith was determined not to return until she found the best hunter…even if it meant sleeping on the ground. Hence the heavy cloak.
Tessing tsked again, but his mistress had spoken and Judith knew she made good sense. “Very well. Don’ break any of yer bones, my lady,” the old man told her. “Or Tabatha will have my head because I didn’t go with ye.”
Since Tabby was Tessing’s granddaughter, Judith suspected he was correct. “I vow to return with no broken bones,” she told him, and pressed a kiss to his warm, weathered cheek. Then she was back out in the sunlight where Piall waited with their horses.
Sir Piall was one of her men-at-arms, currently at court with her from Lilyfare, but he’d been on many hawk-hunting trips. He knew what to expect from the excursion, and as well, he was an excellent warrior and a kind man. Judith was no rock-head when it came to her safety and that of her mare and hawks. She trusted Piall as implicitly as she trusted Sir Holbert and Tessing.
Because of her clothing, she was able to ride astride; although with the long cloak covering her and the back of her mount, no one could tell. When she and Piall rode past the training yard where the men sweated, clanged, and clashed, no one seemed to recognize or even notice her hidden beneath the heavy hood. The disguise was purposeful because in order for her to be relieved of duty to Eleanor long enough to see to her task—and not have to make an explanation to the queen—Judith directed Tabby to respond that she was ill and resting if someone sent for her.
The last men she saw as she and Piall trotted toward the main portcullis gate were Malcolm and Rike, feinting and parrying in the near corner of the yard. Mal, she noticed with rapt interest, was the only one not wearing a sherte while training this morrow. He was also nearer to her pathway than the last time she’d seen him, giving Judith an excellent view of his tanned, golden skin and slabs of rippling muscle. Dark hair covered the upper part of his formidable chest, and as she rode past, she realized her mouth had fallen partly open and that she was staring.
Thankful for the enveloping hood so neither Malcolm nor Piall could see her gawking, Judith closed her mouth and turned her attention so it was focused where it should be: precisely between the upright ears of her mare and the task at hand. But despite her redirection, the image remained in her mind far longer than she preferred.