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well. In fact, except for his pallor and the strident voice, he did not look or act drunk now. But he must be. He must have said something or done something to offend Joanna. Well, that could be mended easily enough, but not if Geoffrey went sulking back to camp. |
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''It is as well that you decided to stay," Salisbury began. |
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"There is no need for that now," Geoffrey interrupted. "I am going back to camp." |
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"Oh no, you are not, orI do not care if you do, so long as you return here for lauds. There will be a war council as soon as we have heard mass." |
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"At sunrise?" Geoffrey protested, putting a hand to his throbbing head. |
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A shadow passed over his father's face, but all he said was, "Yes, the king is eager to be at the Welsh already." |
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"I know," Geoffrey replied drily. |
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The camp had sustained several visits from their royal leader. The last one had been the immediate motivation for Geoffrey's little jaunt into Wales. John had criticized the lack of oxen and carts in Geoffrey's preparations for the transport of supplies. To do the king justice, he had not argued when Geoffrey explained his reasons nor been unpleasant, but he had raised the question in public where the men Geoffrey would lead could hear. Ostensibly, John's visits had been to see for himself how well his vassals had responded to his summons, but Geoffrey thought privately that he did not really care. The number of mercenaries, under a skilled and ruthless but honest captain, Faulk de Bréaute, was greater than the levied troops. |
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Then another thought came to Geoffrey. "Did I miss that messenger too? How is it that no summons was left for me?" he bristled. |
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"There was no affront to you intended," Salisbury soothed, but his worried frown deepened. "No summons was sent to any of the men in the camp. Richard Marsh is just passing the word along now." |
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Geoffrey pressed the heels of his hands into his temples. "Do I hear you aright?" he asked uncertainly. "Did you |
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