Read The Falcons of Montabard for Free Online Page B

charcoal dust from her fingers. 'Did you have time in all the upheaval of Sabin and Simon's return to mark the presence of Edmund Strongfist and his daughter? They were passing through on the way to Branton.'
    Matilda frowned, seeking threads of memory among the tangled yarns of recent events. A thin strand emerged. 'Wasn't the daughter among the ladies of the chamber?'
    'Aye, she was. Straight from the nunnery at Coldingham.'
    Matilda winced at the mention of nuns.
    'Strongfist fostered her there after the death of his wife,' Helisende said. 'But she's not taking vows.'
    And what have Edmund Strongfist and his daughter to do with Sabin?' Matilda's tone was impatient. She hoped uneasily that Sabin had not debauched the girl. His reputation with women had begun the moment his voice had broken. But then it would have come to her ears earlier than this. Indeed, knowing Edmund Strongfist, Sabin would have been emasculated by now and the offending member cast to the hounds.
    'They are making plans to go and dwell in Outremer,' Helisende said patiently. 'I heard it from his sergeant when I was fetching you that camomile tisane from the kitchens.' Her eyes held a crafty glint. 'If I were you, I'd send Sabin with them. He could atone for his sins at the Holy Sepulchre and you would not have to worry about what he was doing.'
    Matilda gazed at Helisende in dawning admiration. 'That is an excellent idea,' she said after a moment.
    'I know,' Helisende replied without a shred of false modesty. 'It'll either be the making or breaking of the lad. Edmund
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    Strongfist is not one to suffer fools gladly. He'll control him.'
    There was a tap on the door. Helisende went to answer it, and Matilda swiftly put the eagerness from her expression. It would not do for the young man to see her smiling like a cat that had just eaten a mouse.
    Looking dubious, the guard ushered Sabin into the chamber. Stalks of straw adhered to the young man's garments and the musty chill of the cells emanated from him in tangible waves. Beneath the bruising, his complexion was white with cold and tinged with blue. The dark hair lay flat and limp over his brows and the tawny-green eyes were as dull as stones.
    A pang went through Matilda and suddenly it was very easy not to smile. 'You look frozen to the marrow,' she said compassionately. 'Come, sit by the brazier and get warm.'
    Sabin gave her a wary look, but did as she bade. Usually every movement was imbued with fluid grace, but now he walked with a hunched shuffle more appropriate to an old man.
    'Was I released by Prince David's command, or yours?' He glanced around as if expecting to see her husband.
    'By mine.' Matilda poured him warm wine from the jug that was standing by the hearth. 'And do not ask me why, because I am not sure that I know myself.' She handed him the cup. He took it with hands that were thin and supple like his mother's. He drank and she saw his teeth chatter against the rim of the cup. There was a red abrasion on his wrist where the manacle had chafed. 'When did you last eat?'
    He looked towards the ceiling and frowned in recollection. 'The day before yesterday, at the dinner trestle ... I think.'
    'I'll bring food,' Helisende said, and whisked from the room. A brief silence followed her leaving.
    'What will you do with me now?' Sabin broke it to enquire.
    'If you give your word of honour not to leave these rooms, you may remain here,' Matilda said, knowing that she could not possibly send him back to his cell.
    Wry amusement curled his lips. 'Surely that is setting a fox amongst all the plump little chickens? Besides, I thought that
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    my word of honour counted for nothing around here.'
    Matilda refused to rise to his bait. 'I do not believe that you have ever intentionally acted with dishonour.'
    'It is just that circumstances conspire against me,' he mocked.
    Matilda went to a coffer standing against the wall and brought out the casket containing her ointments and simples.
    'I suppose