appalled. Unable to take his eyes off the woman, he moved towards the cluttered, gay tables.
“Where in the Hell is Gloucester?” he grumbled.
Lucas and Gannon sped after him, following him as he made his way deeper into the room, on the hunt for the Duke of Gloucester. Diners, noting the enormous, dirty knights in their midst, began to whisper and point, but Bastian didn’t notice and even if he did he would not have cared. He was singularly focused on finding Gloucester in the midst of the chaos. As he rounded the corner of one of the tables, his gaze came to rest on the man himself.
Gloucester was several feet away in conversation with someone Bastian didn’t recognize. Bastian hadn’t seen Gloucester in a year, however, and even though he recognized the man, he noted how badly he had aged during that time. The brown hair was turning shades of gray. That’s what a wife will do to you , he thought. Without reserve, he marched up on Gloucester and made sure the man saw him.
Gloucester couldn’t help but see Bastian, a man at least a head and shoulders taller than even the tallest man in the room. His enormous, imposing presence filled up all air and space. Gloucester was so surprised that he nearly dropped the golden chalice in his hand when he realized Bastian was in his midst. His thick lips opened in surprise.
“Bastian!” he gasped. Then, he laughed loudly and grasped Bastian by the arm. “By God’s Holy Rood, the Beast himself. I had heard your ships had docked in London but I truly did not expect to see you until tomorrow, old friend.”
Bastian was impatient and exhausted, a bad combination. It was a struggle to be polite. “Your Grace,” he greeted evenly. “I received word that you wanted to see me immediately. I did not delay.”
Humphrey of Lancaster, Duke of Gloucester, displayed all the signs of a man who was truly thrilled to see Bastian. He beamed at him and Gloucester was not a beaming man. Congenial at times, loyal, courageous, and scholarly, Humphrey embodied what a well-rounded prince should be. As the youngest son of Henry IV, he was close with his brothers, with his nephew the young king, and consequently close to the men who served them. He was particularly fond of Bastian.
“It is very agreeable to see you again,” Gloucester said. “You seem healthy and whole enough.”
Bastian nodded. “Indeed I am, Your Grace,” he said. “I am relieved to be back in England and hope to see my father very soon. He has not been well.”
The smile on Gloucester’s face faded somewhat. “I know,” he said. “Braxton de Russe was a very great knight, once. He served my father and then my brother flawlessly. I am sorry for his troubles.”
Bastian dipped his head in thanks. “As am I,” he replied. “Therefore, I should like to see him as soon as possible. If you would not mind coming to the point of your summons right away, I would be grateful.”
Gloucester was already in motion, complying with the request. He pulled Bastian along with him as he moved. “Come with me, then,” he said. “I shall not take much of your time, but it is important that we speak.”
Bastian directed Lucas and Gannon to remain in the hall with a simple hand gesture, following Gloucester as the man pulled him along, introducing him to guests as he went, pointing out the great de Russe knight known as Beast and watching the expressions on the diners’ faces. Soon enough, everyone was whispering about de Russe and pointing in his direction as Gloucester dragged him through the well-lit, fragrant hall. As they passed by the last long table in the “U” formation, Bastian pointed to the actors still on the floor before them.
“May I ask what goes on, Your Grace?” he asked the duke. “My knights and I were attempting to figure it out.”
Gloucester paused, a sly grin on his lips as he watched what had once again become mock combat. “Do you not know King Richard and the fall of Acre when you see
“Where in the Hell is Gloucester?” he grumbled.
Lucas and Gannon sped after him, following him as he made his way deeper into the room, on the hunt for the Duke of Gloucester. Diners, noting the enormous, dirty knights in their midst, began to whisper and point, but Bastian didn’t notice and even if he did he would not have cared. He was singularly focused on finding Gloucester in the midst of the chaos. As he rounded the corner of one of the tables, his gaze came to rest on the man himself.
Gloucester was several feet away in conversation with someone Bastian didn’t recognize. Bastian hadn’t seen Gloucester in a year, however, and even though he recognized the man, he noted how badly he had aged during that time. The brown hair was turning shades of gray. That’s what a wife will do to you , he thought. Without reserve, he marched up on Gloucester and made sure the man saw him.
Gloucester couldn’t help but see Bastian, a man at least a head and shoulders taller than even the tallest man in the room. His enormous, imposing presence filled up all air and space. Gloucester was so surprised that he nearly dropped the golden chalice in his hand when he realized Bastian was in his midst. His thick lips opened in surprise.
“Bastian!” he gasped. Then, he laughed loudly and grasped Bastian by the arm. “By God’s Holy Rood, the Beast himself. I had heard your ships had docked in London but I truly did not expect to see you until tomorrow, old friend.”
Bastian was impatient and exhausted, a bad combination. It was a struggle to be polite. “Your Grace,” he greeted evenly. “I received word that you wanted to see me immediately. I did not delay.”
Humphrey of Lancaster, Duke of Gloucester, displayed all the signs of a man who was truly thrilled to see Bastian. He beamed at him and Gloucester was not a beaming man. Congenial at times, loyal, courageous, and scholarly, Humphrey embodied what a well-rounded prince should be. As the youngest son of Henry IV, he was close with his brothers, with his nephew the young king, and consequently close to the men who served them. He was particularly fond of Bastian.
“It is very agreeable to see you again,” Gloucester said. “You seem healthy and whole enough.”
Bastian nodded. “Indeed I am, Your Grace,” he said. “I am relieved to be back in England and hope to see my father very soon. He has not been well.”
The smile on Gloucester’s face faded somewhat. “I know,” he said. “Braxton de Russe was a very great knight, once. He served my father and then my brother flawlessly. I am sorry for his troubles.”
Bastian dipped his head in thanks. “As am I,” he replied. “Therefore, I should like to see him as soon as possible. If you would not mind coming to the point of your summons right away, I would be grateful.”
Gloucester was already in motion, complying with the request. He pulled Bastian along with him as he moved. “Come with me, then,” he said. “I shall not take much of your time, but it is important that we speak.”
Bastian directed Lucas and Gannon to remain in the hall with a simple hand gesture, following Gloucester as the man pulled him along, introducing him to guests as he went, pointing out the great de Russe knight known as Beast and watching the expressions on the diners’ faces. Soon enough, everyone was whispering about de Russe and pointing in his direction as Gloucester dragged him through the well-lit, fragrant hall. As they passed by the last long table in the “U” formation, Bastian pointed to the actors still on the floor before them.
“May I ask what goes on, Your Grace?” he asked the duke. “My knights and I were attempting to figure it out.”
Gloucester paused, a sly grin on his lips as he watched what had once again become mock combat. “Do you not know King Richard and the fall of Acre when you see
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