opened it to clear the air in the room. But I’ll close it if you like.’
‘I smell the sea. It’s a clear day, isn’t it? Listen to those gulls cry a storm coming … No. No, close the window, boy. I dare not take a chill, not as ill as I am already.’
I moved slowly to close the wooden shutters. ‘Has your majesty been ill long? Not much has been said of it about the palace.’
‘Long enough. Oh, forever it seems. It is not so much that I am ill as that I am never well. I am sick, and then I get a bit better, but as soon as I try to do anything, I am sick again, and worse than ever. I am so weary of being sick, boy. So tired of always feeling tired.’
‘Come, sir. This will make you feel better.’ I damped the cloth and wiped his face gently. He recovered himself enough to motion me aside as he washed his own hands, and then wiped his face again more firmly. I was appalled at how the wash water had yellowed as it cleansed him.
‘I’ve found a clean nightshirt for you. Shall I help you into it? Or would you rather that I sent for a boy to bring a tub and warm water? I would bring clean linens for the bed while you bathed.’
‘I, oh, I haven’t the energy, boy. Where is that Wallace? He knows I cannot manage alone. What possessed him to leave me?’
‘A warm bath might help you to rest,’ I tried persuasively. Up close, the old man smelled. Shrewd had always been a cleanly man; I think that his grubbiness distressed me more than anything else.
‘But bathing can lead to chills. So Wallace says. A damp skin, a cool wind, and whisk, I’m gone. Or so he says.’ Had Shrewd really become this fretful old man? I could scarcely believe what I was hearing from him.
‘Well, perhaps just a hot cup of tea then. And a pastry. Cook Sara said these were your favourites.’ I poured the steaming tea into the cup and saw his nose twitch appreciatively. He had a sip or two, and then sat up to look at the carefully arranged pastries. He bade me join him, and I ate a pastry with him, licking the rich filling from my fingers. I understood why they were his favourites. He was well into a second when there were three solid thuds against the door.
‘Unbar it, Bastard. Or the men with me will take it down. And if any harm has come to my father, you shall die where you stand.’ Regal did not sound at all pleased with me.
‘What’s this, boy? The door barred? What goes on here? Regal, what goes on here?’ It pained me to hear the King’s voice crack querulously.
I crossed the room, I unbarred the door. It was flung open before I could touch it, and two of Regal’s more muscular guards seized me. They wore his satin colours like bulldogs with ribbons about their necks. I offered no resistance, so they had no real excuse to throw me up against the wall, but they did. It awoke every pain I still bore from yesterday. They held me there while Wallace rushed in, tut-tutting about how cold the room was, and what was this, eating this, why, it was no less than poison to a man in King Shrewd’s condition. Regal stood, hands on hips, very much the man in charge, and stared at me through narrowed eyes.
Rash, my boy. I very much fear that we have overplayed our hand.
‘Well, Bastard? What have you to say for yourself? Exactly what were your intentions?’ Regal demanded when Wallace’s litany ran down. He actually added another log to the fire in the already stifling room, and took the half-eaten pastry from the King’s hand.
‘I came to report. And finding the King ill cared for, sought to remedy that situation first.’ I was sweating, more from pain than nervousness. I hated to see Regal smile at it.
‘Ill cared for? What exactly are you saying?’ he accused me.
I took a breath for courage. Truth. ‘I found his chamber untidy and musty. Dirty plates left about. The linens of his bed unchanged …’
‘Dare you say such things?’ Regal hissed.
‘I do. I speak the truth to my king, as I ever have. Let him look about with his own eyes and see if it is not so.’
Something in the confrontation had stirred Shrewd to a shadow of his old self. He pushed himself up in bed and looked about himself. ‘The Fool has likewise made these complaints, in his own acid way …’ he began.
Wallace dared to interrupt him. ‘My lord, the state of your health has been tender. Sometimes uninterrupted rest is more important than rolling you out of your bed to fuss with a change of blankets or linen. And a dish or two stacked about is less annoyance than the rattle and prattle of a page come in to tidy.’
King Shrewd looked suddenly uncertain. My heart smote me. This was what the Fool had wished me to see, why he had so often urged me to visit the King. Why had not he spoken more plainly? But then, when did the Fool ever speak plainly? Shame rose in me. This was my king, the king I had sworn to. I loved Verity, and my loyalty to him was unquestioning. But I had abandoned my king at the very moment when he needed me most. Chade was gone, for how long I did not know. I had left King Shrewd with no more than the Fool to protect him. And yet when had King Shrewd ever needed anyone to shelter him before? Always that old man had been more than capable of guarding himself. I chided myself that I should have been more emphatic with Chade about the changes I noted when I first returned home. I should have been more watchful of my sovereign.
‘How did he get in here?’ Regal suddenly demanded with a savage glare at me.
‘My prince, he had a token from the King himself, he claimed. He said the King had promised always to see him if he but showed that pin …’
‘What rot! You believed such nonsense …’
‘Prince Regal, you know it is true. You were witness when King Shrewd first gave it to me.’ I spoke quietly but clearly. Within me, Verity was silent, waiting and watching, and learning much. At my expense, I thought bitterly, and then strove to call back the thought.
Moving calmly and unthreateningly, I pulled one wrist free of a bulldog’s grip. I turned back the collar of my jerkin and drew the pin out. I held it up for all to see.
‘I recall no such thing,’ Regal snapped, but Shrewd sat up.
‘Come closer, boy,’ he instructed me. Now I shrugged clear of my guards and tugged my clothing straight. Then I bore the pin up to the King’s bedside. Deliberately, King Shrewd reached out. He took the pin away from me. My heart sank inside me.
‘Father, this is …’ Regal began annoyedly, but Shrewd interrupted him.
‘Regal. You were there. You do recall it, or you should.’ The King’s dark eyes were as bright and alert as I remembered them, but also plain were the lines of pain about those eyes and the corner of his mouth. King Shrewd fought for this lucidity. He held the pin up and looked at Regal with a shadow of his old calculating glance. ‘I gave the boy this pin. And my word, in exchange for his.’
‘Then I suggest you take them both back again, pin and word. You will never get well with this type of disruption going on in your rooms.’ Again, that edge of command in Regal’s voice. I waited, silent.
The King lifted a shaky hand to rub his face and eyes, ‘I gave those things,’ he said, and the words were firm, but the strength was fading from his voice. ‘Once given, a man’s word is no longer his to call back. Am I right about this, FitzChivalry? Do you
