Sparrows

Part 11

Sparrow's Song 11

The company is almost at ease now; it seems with the danger behind us we have all become more tolerant, though Brother William is oft times over pious. Brother Jocelyn smiles and pulls faces when his superior is not looking. He and Tom are become accomplices in boyish pranks. Sargeant Blount and young Piers still have their guard about them, but even they joke and sit more comfortable on their mounts. Only the lordling stays stiff in his saddle, riding apart. I need to bathe again, though I shall have to look to more seclusion this time. I cannot but recall his crude attention. I still shiver at the memory when I feel his eyes upon me.

###

The village of Beckford was a sight Haddie thought never to see again. People bustled full of purpose, and all in seeming good humour. It appeared they had arrived on market day. Gaily draped booths lined the road, their owners called out for customers, touting their wares to any who might buy. Clusters of sturdy old houses sat comfortably about the castle walls.

All was...normal, as if the feuds of kings and empresses, the brutality of soldiers, was of another world.

A notion struck Haddie: Was this world for her, should she ever be entitled to a day's happiness, would that not be a betrayal of her dead child? Biting her lip, she watched with guilty, envious eyes as trusting maidens bargained for ribbons and petty trinkets. The smell of fresh bread and meat pies assaulted her senses.

Tom sat open mouthed beside her, the poor lamb had known little but want and tribulation for most of his short life."Shall we stay here Tom, what do you think?" Haddie asked.

"I think...I think this is heaven. We have died and gone to heaven."

Brother William sighed, smiling none the less. "The earl's eldest daughter is to be married. He has four girls and no sons. 'Tis a very good match and there will be great festivities. In these days of trouble there are few enough reasons for celebration, but this good fortune shows God has not forgotten us. By His grace; joy is still in the world."

As the friar spoke the sound of pipes and a tambor invaded the air, tumblers in their shabby finery, came cart wheeling past.

Sir Robert reined Cassius back and bent from his saddle. He spoke low to Brother William, his voice filled with disapproval. "Keep your wits about you; these vagabonds have the eyes of hawks. The last thing we need is to lose our consignment to casual thievery."

Haddie, alert only to the merry din, hugged Tom, eyes wide. "Oh lambkin, Jongleurs, there will be music, real music!"

Glancing up, Sir Robert saw the look of guileless excitement. It irked, and was worsened by the unaccustomed twist of pleasure it brought him.

The shameless, noisy band trailed past. Pots and pans clanked and clattered where they hung tied to the sides of their covered cart. The rickety wain bounced precariously over the rutted road.

"Can we walk a while brother, stretch our legs?" Haddie was giddy with the thrill of such lively normality, the shred of the real world without fear; a world of music and life.

"I see no reason why not my child." With that Haddie and Tom shuffled eagerly off the back of the waggon.

Robert said nothing, but watched them, face impassive, his eyes following Haddie.

Brother William caught the look. "I thought there to be no harm in it. We near the parting of the ways, surely they will be safe enough now?"

The knight raised an eyebrow. "You thought there no harm at the abbey Brother. Forgive me if I question your judgement." He accepted no guilt for the faulty decision. Eyeing Haddie's bottom, revealed as it was in the borrowed hose, he said. "She'll be tempting men to molest her again if she goes on displaying that arse."