Lords of the White Castle by Elizabeth Chadwick Page A

one thought ahead of his opponent all the time.
    'Stretch your arm.'
    Obediently he complied and she measured him from armpit to wrist.
    'I won't come to any harm in Ireland,' he said. 'Lord Theobald will not put his squires at risk.'
    Hawise knotted the cord. 'If you trust Lord Walter, then so do I.'
    'Then what is wrong, Mama? Why don't you want me to go?'
    Hawise took another measure from armpit to knee. Then, stepping back, she sighed. 'I have striven never to hold you or your brothers back, by word or by deed. With my heart in my mouth I have encouraged you to gallop your pony bareback, to climb to the top of a wall, to fly a falcon that could gouge out your eyes with one strike of its talons.' She turned away to place the lengths of knotted cord in her sewing basket. 'I have hidden my fear because it is mine, not yours, and I never wanted you to become infected by it.'
    'And you fear Ireland?' Fulke looked puzzled.
    'No.' She shook her head a trifle impatiently. 'I have heard it is a wild place where it constantly rains and the people are untamed half-heathens, but in that respect it is little different to certain parts of Wales.'
    'Then what?'
    His mother bit her lip. "When I was a small child, we had reason to make a river crossing on a ferry, but in midstream the boat capsized and I was almost drowned. It was winter, the water was very cold and my clothes dragged me under. By the time my father pulled me out, I was more than half dead.' Her voice wobbled. 'Since that time I have harboured a dread of crossing water. I think of the river that almost claimed me, how I was dying even though I could see dry land on the other side.' She swallowed and compressed her lips, fighting for control. 'When I think of the ocean you must cross, my heart dies inside me.'
    'I do not fear crossing water, Mama,' Fulke said. 'I have travelled on the great River Thames often enough these past months without mishap and I can swim.' He did not add that on more than one occasion he had played at water jousting, where opposing boats would come at each other and a pole bearer at the prow would try to knock his counterpart into the water. Then, of course, there was the exhilarating but more dangerous sport of shooting the arches of London Bridge at high tide. What she did not know could do her no harm.
    From around her neck Hawise removed a small reliquary cross and, with shaking hands, gave it to him. 'Will you wear this for me when you go? It contains a lock of St Elmo's hair and it is proof against drowning.'
    'Of course I will, Mama.' Fulke kissed the cross and placed it around his own neck, tucking it down inside his tunic.
    She forced a smile. 'I might sleep a little easier now. I only wish I had something for Jean too.'
    'Oh, he wears a token of St Christopher in his cap, and I've yet to see him not land on his feet whatever the situation,' Fulke said lightly in an attempt to ease the atmosphere. He was more than relieved as footsteps hammered outside and a panting William burst into the room.
    'Are you still being measured or do you want to come and join us at ambushes?' He was pink with exertion and the joy of play. 'Jean says he'll take the part of Roger de Powys. We're using the midden as Whittington keep.'
    'I've finished for the nonce,' Hawise said quickly and gave Fulke a gentle push. 'The tunic won't be ready for trying until late this evening.'
    Fulke did not require a second bidding. The boy in him clamoured to be out with his brothers, and the man did too. He needed to release the tensions raised with a bout of vigorous activity.
     
    Hawise drifted to the window and watched him as he emerged into the winter afternoon. The wind ruffled his dark hair. She saw how the other boys clamoured around him, William foremost and clearly full of worship; she watched the way he organised them, including the little ones. He had always possessed those abilities, but life at court was honing and polishing them, taking and changing him. If