CHAPTER11
Judith gasped and wriggled around in the bed, squinting through her lids as the brightness of daylight flooded the room.
Guyon wrenched the covers aside. ‘On your feet, you lazy baggage, or are you going to sleep until noon?’
She sat up, glowering.
Guyon laughed. ‘You’ll miss a surprise if you do.’
Judith rubbed her eyes and regarded him blearily. He was wearing his hunting tunic of green plaid and leather hose. She had not heard him wake and dress, but then he could be as soft-footed as Melyn when he chose.
‘What kind of surprise?’
‘The kind that will not wait for ever.’ He hooked his thumbs in his belt and studied her. Her hair spilled down. A freckled white shoulder gleamed through the untidy tresses and a small, apple-sized breast. Flank and leg were lithe and long. Flustered, she lowered her eyes, a pink flush staining her throat and face. Abruptly he turned away to her clothing pole and, selecting garments, tossed them on the bed.
‘I’ll send in your maid. Don’t be too long,Cath fach.’
His tone was light and his face wore its customary good humour so that her momentary qualm dissolved into an impudent grimace as he reached the door.
Most of the household was still asleep and, as Judith indignantly discovered on entering the hall, it was not long after dawn. A yawning boy was arranging the side trestles for the serving of bread and curd cheese. Guyon was leaning on the edge of the dais, deep in conversation with the steward and the reeve, Cadi as usual glued to his side.
The two standing men bowed. Judith smiled a greeting to the steward. To the reeve she spoke. He had not long been appointed to the position – a young man with small children, well able to cope with the task of mediating between the lord and his tenants, but still finding his feet.
Guyon listened to her enquiries after the health of the man’s family with whose every name and circumstance she was familiar and was once more amazed at her scope.
‘I didn’t know his aunt Winifred suffered from gout,’ he chuckled as he led her out of the forebuilding and into the early morning bustle of the bailey.
‘She doesn’t.’ Judith regarded him with grave clarity. ‘She just likes their attention. There’s nothing wrong with the cantankerous hag. I could think of several effective if drastic remedies to cure her condition. Cutting out her tongue, for one.’
‘Judith!’ he spluttered.
‘It is the truth and only you to hear it. Why should I lie?’
Guyon shook his head, unable to think of a response or reprimand because in essence she was right
A lanky youth of about Judith’s own age was forking soiled straw into the yard. Hens pecked and scratched near his feet. Balls of yellow fluff twinkled hither and yon, imitating in miniature the actions of their parents, miraculously avoiding the lad’s stout boots and the sweeps of the fork.
‘Good morning, Hob,’ Judith greeted him. He turned a dusky campion-pink and mumbled into his chest.
‘What’s the surprise, Guy?’ She smiled up at him as she had smiled at Hob.
‘You are, constantly,’ he replied, then said in English to the boy, ‘Where’s your father?’
‘Just coming, sire. He’s walking her round to stop her getting cold.’
‘Who?’ asked Judith.
Guyon took her arm and turned to face his head groom who appeared around the edge of the building with a harnessed mare following behind in a well-mannered fashion.
‘Guyon?’ Judith twisted to look up at him and then back at the delicately stepping palfrey.
‘I thought it was time you had a more mettlesome mount than that old bay nag you’ve adopted. Her name’s Euraidd. She’s five years old and from the stud herd down at Ashdyke.’
Judith stared at the vision filling her eyes and it swung its head to return the compliment with limpid black eyes. Euraidd – golden. A mare the colour of the sun. Darker dappled rings like gold coins shimmered on the silken haunches and contour of shoulder and belly. Her mane and tail were a flossy blonde, the former braided with tassels of scarlet silk. The harness, like the horse, was expensive.
‘She’s beautiful!’ Judith gasped, more than a little awestruck. ‘Are you sure you want me to have her?’
‘How else do you expect to keep up with me when we go riding?’ Guyon grinned. ‘That bay bag of bones might as well have been standing still the other day.’
