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how all the time he had been with Alinor he had not taken another woman. Aroused as he had been by her touch and presence, it had never occurred to him to ease his frustration on one of the many whores that serviced the Court. There had been no conscious impulse to ''faithfulness." Simply, Alinor's proximity had quenched casual desire. With distance that restriction had lifted. Simon had made no secret of the women he took to his bed. He was not playing the part of a faithful lover; to the best of his ability he was acting exactly as he would if no thought of Alinor had ever crossed his mind. He tried intermittently to erase the memory of that moonlit encounter, especially on nights when he lay awake watching the moon rise above the treetops. |
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Tonight at least he would not be troubled by the sight of the moon. Simon stopped at the edge of the field and scanned the huddle of huts still some distance away. The foreriders, some of Lord Rannulf's hunts-men-turned-soldiers in answer to Alinor's need, had chosen the path well. The troop would emerge where the fields were narrowest between the wood and the village. To each side, the fields were widertoo wide for bowshot accuracy. If anyone wished to attack them here, they would need to show themselves. Simon touched his horse with his heels and rode forward. There would be no attack. |
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When at last the wet wood the men had gathered had been induced to burn, Simon squatted naked on the damp mud floor of the largest hut. He was shivering a little and coughing when the wet wind blew the smoke away from the smoke hole in the roof and into his face. His mind was nearly blank as he watched the steam rise from his clothing as it dried. In the saddle bag lying near the wall were a couple of handfuls of rusty grain and three or four strips of leather-hard dried meat. Simon's innards growled but he made no move toward that unappetizing fare. Ian and the younger man of the troop were out. With God's mercy |
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