|
|
|
|
|
|
when he served Lord William. It was a noble thing to be a squire to a great man, but it was hard, hard work. In addition to the same riding and fighting the men did, a squire had to run messages, oversee the care of his horse and his lord's, clean his lord's armor and weaponsand, of course, his ownsee that meals were properly cooked for his lord and serve them with as much elegance as could be provided, attend to the comfort of visitors should there be any, keep an eye on the men-at-arms and report any gross mistreatment or neglect by the captains, set the pickets and make sure the guards were doing their dutyand do a million other one-time-only things either ordered by his lord or directed by his own common sense. And God help him if his common sense did not direct him and he missed doing something. It was no wonder that the boys slept hard. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Nonetheless, Simon spoke outside the tent before he entered and, although the boys did not seem to have awakened, he did not go too near Geoffrey's cot. His brother-by-marriage did not sleep heavily on campaign and was quicker and deadlier than anyone Simon knew. Adam might be stronger, but Geoffrey was as swift in striking as an adder. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
''Geoffrey, it is Simon," he said softly once he was inside. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
He was glad he had been careful. As he spoke, both squires came to their feet with swords bared. If he had gone closer to Geoffrey's cot, he might have been spitted before he was recognized. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Geoffrey sat up and laid aside his own bared sword, signaling the boys to lie down again. "Madman," he said, "What are you doing here?" |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Why?" Simon asked, throwing back his hood. "Am I accounted an enemy?" |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Not yet," Geoffrey responded dryly, turning to draw his bedrobe over his shoulders. Then he goggled at Simon's blackened face. "What is wrong with you?" |
|
|
|
|
|