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.He left the royal tent.A miserable ancient relic shuffled in.By all the saints, the king thought, the old wretch stank more than a wet sheep and he looked ready to fall over and die, so appalling and pathetic was he.He gave a soft cackle and essayed a deep bow before the king.He sprang back up with no cracking of aged bones or joints.“I understand it is a royal coin you wish,” the king said, frowning mightily toward the beggar.The old man cackled.“Nay, generous sire, it’s a woman to warm my bed I wish, a woman wondrous fair with bounteous bosom and—”The king stared at the old man, his cleverness momentarily extinguished.“—aye, and a bounty of buttocks, mayhap.A woman as soft of flesh as a rabbit’s belly and deep as a well for my mighty rod.”The king burst into laughter.“Shall I offer you first a woman to bathe you? You smell of slime and piss.Who are you, beggar? Not a common sort of vermin, I warrant, not from your polished impertinent speech.Come, I grow impatient with your antics.”“You are always impatient, sire.Your poor Robbie awaits just without, chewing his fingernails to their knuckles.It’s true, even a good tale is wasted on you, as is an excellent performance.I have heard it said that London’s most wondrous mummers burst into tears at your inattention.Why—”“Who are you, you miserable impertinent lout?” The royal personage rose to his full height.To his consternation, the beggar didn’t quiver in fear, nor did he retreat even a frightened step.He gave him a filthy black grin and looked cockier than ever.Then, just as suddenly, the beggar straightened and pulled off bits and pieces of his face.The king sucked in his breath, words failing him, at the hideous process.Roland stood before him, tall, lean, proud of bearing, rubbing the back of his hand over his teeth.His teeth shone white and his hand shone black.The king shook his head.“I believe it not, and I know how well you can disguise yourself.My God, Roland, I have missed your insolent self.”He embraced him.“By St.Andrew’s knees, you must bathe,” he said, and quickly stepped back.“Aye, it’s sheep dung and a few other disgusting things I found on my way here.I will keep my distance from your hallowed presence.I must ask you a favor, and then I will bathe.Have you time to attend to my plea, sire?”“Robbie vowed you were a beggar worthy to plead before the royal presence.Still, Roland, if I said I didn’t?”“Why, then I should have to tell you of my adventures in Paris, where the ladies performed solemn rites and ceremonies upon my poor man’s body with great enthusiasm and imagination.Ah, sire, these are bold and bawdy tales that will make you lick your royal lips.”“I wish to have both your plea and a full and complete accounting of your adventures.”Roland grinned at his king.“You are the answer to a poor needy beggar’s prayers.I hadn’t a notion of what to do, and you, like my chivalrous knight, come to my rescue, at least I hope that you will consider championing me.”“You make no sense, Roland.Sit, man,” he continued in a bellow.“Robbie, come back in here.I need you to protect me from this rapacious beggar.”“But my stench, sire—”“It matters not.Just keep three feet between us and I shall survive your odor.”9Daria stood at her post at the narrow window that gave onto the inner bailey.She knew such fear she could scarce bear it.The priest had arrived just an hour before, and the earl, impatient to have her sanctified in God’s eyes, and in his bed, announced that their wedding ceremony would take place this very evening.It was difficult to remain submissive, but she tried, asking in her softest voice, “But what of the king’s visit, my lord? Don’t you expect him to arrive shortly?”“I pray the Almighty that his royal majesty takes his blessed time.He can arrive on the morrow.I will allow him to do that.”She kept her eyes lowered, and her brain squirreled with one idea after the other, each of them useless.The earl continued after a moment, “I have kept my vow, Daria.Forget not that I could have taken you at any time, but I held to my oath.I proved to you that I was to be trusted.I have shown you mine honor.You will have no more cause now to bend against me.”He had kept his oath; she’d give him that.She prayed for the king to arrive right now.She looked into the distance but saw no sign of anyone, just impenetrable forests and rolling hills.The earl frowned down at her.“I wish you to gown yourself as befits the bride of the Earl of Clare.Do you understand me, Daria? I wish you to smile and show everyone that you come to me with a willing and submissive heart.”She nodded.He stared at her intently for a moment longer, then grabbed her, hauling her against him.He cupped her chin with his hand and pushed up her face.She closed her eyes, forcing herself not to struggle even when his mouth closed over hers.She felt his tongue, wet and probing, and wanted to gag.He released her and said, “I will wed you even though your dowry hasn’t yet come from your loathsome uncle.But no matter his damned perfidy.I intend to petition the king for what should be mine and what will be mine, for once you are wedded to me, once I have taken you, even the king can’t deny me your dowry, for I have right on my side.” With those words, he actually rubbed his hands together, saying in triumph, “There’s nothing Damon Le Mark can do, for I will have the king with me.And he will curse and whine and it will do him no good at all.Aye, at last I have won, and I like the feeling.” He turned on his heel and left her.Daria stared after him, wondering at his mind.She shook her head to clear it of the feel of him.Suddenly, from one instant to the next, she felt a sharpening of something inside her, an awareness, a renewed remembrance of something utterly vital to her, something—She looked down into the inner bailey, not really seeing anything or anyone specific, but still the feeling was there, that strange feeling, that knowledge that she’d known before.She wondered if her mind had finally snapped.Then she saw him.A bent old man, with a head of scraggly thick white hair, shuffling in his rags toward the castle well.He was dragging his lame right leg [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]