So, let’s see what the good nuns of Saint George have furnished us with - something special knowing Benjamin. And a little extra for you I saw from Monica-Jerome.’ He winked. ‘I think the lady has a soft spot for you, my boy.’ He rubbed his hands together in anticipation. ‘Come, the ride has made me ravenous. What have we got?’
‘Pottage.’
His grin remained fixed but his eyes registered disappointment. ‘Pottage.’
‘But there’s always my apple.’ I took it out to show him. ‘You may bite on it if you wish.’
He put up his hand. ‘No no. Monica-Jerome intended it for you and you shall have it all. Denial is good for the soul. Jane and I will make do with the erm...pottage.’
I collected what dry twigs I could find and cleared a patch of snow for our fire. Then I got out my fire-striker. At least with all this clean snow we wouldn’t want for water. It would melt quickly on our make-shift hearth
‘How’s Jane been doing?’ Samson asked once I’d coaxed a flame.
I looked across at her sullen countenance as she sat upon her mule. ‘I’m a little concerned about her, actually. She hasn’t moved from her saddle since we left the nunnery.’
‘Hm, still pining over Ralf.’ He patted my shoulder. ‘Get a good fire going and see if that will entice her down. I have to answer nature’s call. If she’s not down by the time I get back I’ll speak to her.’
While Samson went off to relieve himself behind a tree I set the pot among the flames to warm. I had already hobbled the mule carrying Ralf so it could not wander off but Jane remained stubbornly on hers. When he returned Samson raised his eyebrows quizzically but I shook my head. He went over to her.
‘Now Jane, what’s this?’ he said firmly. ‘You can’t sit up there all day and not eat. We’ve already got one corpse, we don’t want another. And Clytemnestra could do with a rest.’ He stroked the animal’s ear.
Jane did not respond.
‘You know, it’s bad manners to ignore someone when they are speaking to you. So I’m asking you, please come down and warm yourself by the fire.’
Jane sneered and looked away.
‘Do you not want to shit?’
Still no response.
‘Very well. As your lord I command you.’
She shot him a bitter look. ‘You en’t my lord. My lord is the Bishop of Ely.’
‘I’m sure Bishop Eustace would be heartened to hear of your loyalty, but I’m afraid while you live with the nuns you are in my care like it or not. Now, I command you. Come down and eat. Brother Walter has lit a fire for you, and look, we have pottage.’
She reluctantly swung her leg over the pommel. ‘I get down because I want it, not because you say.’
She dropped onto the powdery snow and ambled off into the woods. Samson watched her go with disdain.
‘I fear we will be having trouble with that lady before very long.’
It was then that we heard it. Distant at first but slowly getting louder. A sound that rose and fell like a cat in distress.
‘Yu uuule-prrrrrp-tick-tick-tickety, brr, brrr, pooo-bop!’
‘What on earth?’ said Samson squinting hard in the direction we had come. The road , I should point out, at this point was long and straight with no bends. We had chosen this place carefully just so that we have good views in both directions and could see trouble coming from afar. And trouble afar there seemed to be. In the distance coming up the hill from behind us was a tiny black dot that buzzed and fluttered like a fly.
Samson screwed up his face and peered hard. ‘Your eyes are younger than mine , Walter. Can you see what it is?’
I squinted against the sunlight and shielded my eyes. ‘It’s a man - I think.’
‘Or a devil,’ said Samson. ‘A fool whoever he is announcing his presence like that. Every footpad for miles must have heard him.’
As the creature drew closer his words became clearer: ‘Yo-liddle-idus, my name is Tom-e-linus. I come up from Mont-i-pillery and I’m on my way to
‘Pottage.’
His grin remained fixed but his eyes registered disappointment. ‘Pottage.’
‘But there’s always my apple.’ I took it out to show him. ‘You may bite on it if you wish.’
He put up his hand. ‘No no. Monica-Jerome intended it for you and you shall have it all. Denial is good for the soul. Jane and I will make do with the erm...pottage.’
I collected what dry twigs I could find and cleared a patch of snow for our fire. Then I got out my fire-striker. At least with all this clean snow we wouldn’t want for water. It would melt quickly on our make-shift hearth
‘How’s Jane been doing?’ Samson asked once I’d coaxed a flame.
I looked across at her sullen countenance as she sat upon her mule. ‘I’m a little concerned about her, actually. She hasn’t moved from her saddle since we left the nunnery.’
‘Hm, still pining over Ralf.’ He patted my shoulder. ‘Get a good fire going and see if that will entice her down. I have to answer nature’s call. If she’s not down by the time I get back I’ll speak to her.’
While Samson went off to relieve himself behind a tree I set the pot among the flames to warm. I had already hobbled the mule carrying Ralf so it could not wander off but Jane remained stubbornly on hers. When he returned Samson raised his eyebrows quizzically but I shook my head. He went over to her.
‘Now Jane, what’s this?’ he said firmly. ‘You can’t sit up there all day and not eat. We’ve already got one corpse, we don’t want another. And Clytemnestra could do with a rest.’ He stroked the animal’s ear.
Jane did not respond.
‘You know, it’s bad manners to ignore someone when they are speaking to you. So I’m asking you, please come down and warm yourself by the fire.’
Jane sneered and looked away.
‘Do you not want to shit?’
Still no response.
‘Very well. As your lord I command you.’
She shot him a bitter look. ‘You en’t my lord. My lord is the Bishop of Ely.’
‘I’m sure Bishop Eustace would be heartened to hear of your loyalty, but I’m afraid while you live with the nuns you are in my care like it or not. Now, I command you. Come down and eat. Brother Walter has lit a fire for you, and look, we have pottage.’
She reluctantly swung her leg over the pommel. ‘I get down because I want it, not because you say.’
She dropped onto the powdery snow and ambled off into the woods. Samson watched her go with disdain.
‘I fear we will be having trouble with that lady before very long.’
It was then that we heard it. Distant at first but slowly getting louder. A sound that rose and fell like a cat in distress.
‘Yu uuule-prrrrrp-tick-tick-tickety, brr, brrr, pooo-bop!’
‘What on earth?’ said Samson squinting hard in the direction we had come. The road , I should point out, at this point was long and straight with no bends. We had chosen this place carefully just so that we have good views in both directions and could see trouble coming from afar. And trouble afar there seemed to be. In the distance coming up the hill from behind us was a tiny black dot that buzzed and fluttered like a fly.
Samson screwed up his face and peered hard. ‘Your eyes are younger than mine , Walter. Can you see what it is?’
I squinted against the sunlight and shielded my eyes. ‘It’s a man - I think.’
‘Or a devil,’ said Samson. ‘A fool whoever he is announcing his presence like that. Every footpad for miles must have heard him.’
As the creature drew closer his words became clearer: ‘Yo-liddle-idus, my name is Tom-e-linus. I come up from Mont-i-pillery and I’m on my way to
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