Lord Liar Part 26

"Oh, I should have known it was Edward, the clumsy English--I've a good mind to topple that ladder and thrash what's left of you," he growled, g'nting the wooden structure a shake as if in promise of what was to come.

Aldyth clutched the swaying wooden sides, trying not to cry out in fear, but the rafters were two stories high, and if he made good his threat, she would end up with broken bones.

She smothered the urge to tell him to go to the devil. "Sorry, Louis, I was b.u.t.terfingered, it's true," she called apologetically.

"How about if I creep into the butlm'y after the steward is asleep and get you some of that good Gascon wine by way of apology?"

That placated the pudgy page. It would be an easy theft, she knew.

The steward fell asleep in the b.u.t.tery, the victim of the very wine he was supposed to guard. If she had help she could filch a tun of wine with him none the wiser. The other pages chimed in enthusiastically. Before long an informal party had been arranged in the stable to commence after the fires were covered. She would bring the wine, Aldyth figured, then leave as soon as her fellow pages were well into their cups. Ranulf would never miss her.

He was no doubt reveling with the rest of the wine-soaked n.o.bles of this court, aye, and had probably managed to arrange an a.s.signation with some available lady, too, in spite of his supposed mistress, Lady Vivienne.

She should have known Fat Louis wouldn't let her escape so easily.

Two hours later, half a dozen of the pages sat in an empty stall lit only by a lantern. Drinking sparingly while appearing to consume great quant.i.ties of the Gascony was easy enough for Aldyth--just a flick of the wrist when no one was looking and the wine trickled harmlessly into the straw. But then Louis, whom she had seen guzzle prodigious amounts as easily as he drank water, added a new challenge, leaving the barn for a few minutes and coming back with Margot, the blows lest of the palace kitchen wenches. Margot, whose bra.s.sy gold locks owed much to saffron dye, waved and smiled blearily at the boys lounging in the straw. It was evident she had been filching wine, as well.

"Margot is desirous of earning some extra coin for her New Year's gift for her poor old mother," he said with a sn.i.g.g.e.r.

"I brought her out so you boys could fill her, uh, pockets."

At first Aldyth, listening to the excited catcalls from the wine-flushed youths around her, did not understand. Then the wench pulled the neckline of her dirty bodice down, exposing one enormous breast, which she stroked suggestively to the accompaniment of the pages' cheers. Finally, 141 with a meaningful wink over her bare shoulders, she strolled into an adjacent empty stall.

"I'm ready, boys," she cooed.

"Which of you wants to be first?"

"I think Edward should be," Fat Louis announced.

"It should be interesting--I doubt he's ever had a woman before!"

The pages guffawed and looked at Aldyth expectantly. "Well, go on, Edward,"

Bertrand urged her.

"Margot usually isn't so generous with her favors with mere pages. You might as well take advantage."

Jsu, what do I do now. :' This was a problem she hadn't antic.i.p.ated.

"I, uh, I'm afraid I'll have to pa.s.s her up, Louis, though 'twas a good idea," she said, hoping she didn't look as dismayed as she felt.

"I ... my lord didn't leave me with so much as a sou in my pockets."

"Oh, we can't let that stop you, my good man," Louis said with an evil chuckle.

"There would have been no party without you. See here, just to show we're friends now, I'll pay for your turn."

There was much hooting and applause as Louis turned hack to her.

She swallowed hard and prayed for inspiration.

"I, uh, I'm not ready.

As you say, 'twill be the first time. "

"Don't let that stop you, lad! Margot will show you what's what,"

someone suggested.

"Why don't you go first, Louis? I'll just have a few more swigs ... get up my courage, you know," Aldyth said weakly, raising her cup for a refill.

"Your courage isn't the only thing that must rise!" t.i.ttered another of the pages.

"Well, all right, if you insist." Fat Louis seemed pleased by the idea.

"Why not watch through the cracks, little Edward? Margot won't mind, and you can pick up some pointers."

She looked over her shoulder through the cracks in the stall divider.

Indeed, she could see the wench lying on her back in the stall, her legs bent and her skirt pulled up to her waist as Fat Louis entered and began unfastening the points of his hose.

Aldyth looked away, but it didn't help. She could still hear them--Fat Louis grunting and panting like a boar hog, Margot squealing like a sow as the fleshy page rode her. "Edward's turning green," one of the pages tattled as LOuis came back.

"I'll go next, and you see that he keeps drinking, eh? We'll either make him sick or make a man of him?

Aldyth squeezed her eyes shut in an agony of embarra.s.sment. How could they do this? How could a woman like Margot allow these awful boys to shame her--and through her, all women--especially on the very eve of the Savior's birth?

"Please, I am going to be sick," she murmured when they insisted it was now her turn. It was not a lie, for she was frighlz,-ned to the point of nausea.

If she refused, they might either beat her up or strip her with the inention of throwing a naked Edward at Margot. Either way, they would find out she was no boy.

"Hurry up, English. Margot doesn't like to be kept waiting," Fat Louis jeered, waving his eating dagger threateningly in the direction of her belly.

Aldyth stood up on C, embling legs, then backed out of the stall. She hoped she could run flee fly enough to outdistanco them and reach the safety of Lord Ranulf's chamAll at once she felt herself being s.n.a.t.c.hed backward by the neck of her garment.

"So this is where you've been hiding! You English puppy, you're about to rue the day you were born!"

Chapter Thirteen

' My lord, thank G.o.d. I"-- Aldyth began, twisting in his grasp to look at him.

"Silence!" he snapped, and gave her a shake.

"And what were the lot of you about, anyway?" he asked the group, raising the lantern he carried. His manner had gone back to his usual one of the elegant, languid lord, now vexed by a disagreeable sight.

"Just drinking wine, if it's any of your concern," Fat Louis retorted with wine-induced boldness.

Ranulf pointedly ignored him.

Margot, already wearying of putting up with sweating, grunting striplings for a few paltry sous, apparently hoped to net a bigger fish, for she chose this moment to poke her head over the stall divider.