A Lily on the Heath 4 Read Online Free PDF

of the king)—as well as a cluster of friends with whom she might make merry.
    Though that cluster of friends might sift and change as they wed and left court, there were always newcomers to befriend. An ever-changing sea of lords and ladies currying favor with the royal couple and their confidantes. And at court, one always had good food and new fashions, priests when they were needed, and the best medical care from physicians of both Paris and London as well as Antioch. Even exotic foodstuffs, such as oranges, olives, and cinnamon, were readily available.
    Truly, Judith had naught of which to complain. And so she lifted her chin and lectured herself into compliance. If she were at Lilyfare, she reminded herself, she’d never have tasted a fresh fig. And that would have been a tragedy.
    Judith approved Tabby’s choice of a simple gold-link girdle to wrap around her waist, then slipped her eating knife into a sheath affixed to the chain and hung a small pouch of coins next to it. As she slid her feet into soft leather shoes, the furious sound of metal clanging rose from below.
    She peered out the narrow window slit, her fingers brushing the cool stone, and looked down. In the courtyard, knights and men-at-arms trained. Their metal blades gleamed though the early morning light was dull with rainclouds, and she heard shouts and jests floating up in deep masculine voices.
    “The men are training early this morn,” Tabby commented. “Even before mass.”
    “From the look of the clouds, it’ll rain betimes,” Judith told her. “Then they’ll be cooped inside like a bunch of riotous chickens. Better to work off some of their bile before then, or there will be fights in the hall. Men are such war-mongering fools,” she added wryly. “Not a one is happy if he isn’t brandishing a blade and making off to fight some battle—whether real or imagined. Never do they care if their women are left behind, waiting for word of them.” As she had been when Gregory went off to fight. And never returned.
    “’Tis one of the things I find comforting about my station,” Tabby said with the frank honesty they shared from more than a decade of being servant and mistress. She’d been Judith’s maid since she was eight and her lady was ten—although at that time, she’d merely been learning how to be a good tiring woman. “The chance of any husband of mine riding off to protect his lands—or even the king’s—will happen nearly about the time Her Majesty releases you to Lilyfare. Should I ever find a husband, he’ll be naught but a marshal, smith or miller—and devoid of warlust.”
    “And that blessing I pray for you, Tabby, dearling,” Judith said. “That you must never lift the mail sherte off or onto the shoulders of your husband. And now, I must see to Hecate before mass, for I fear the rain will come soon.”
    Judith’s slippered feet were light on the curving stone stairs as she bounded down them. Tapestries—some wrought by Queen Eleanor, but mostly by her ladies—as well as the flaming wall sconces fluttered in Judith’s energetic wake. When she reached the bottom, instead of pausing in the hall where serfs prepared for the breaking of the fast after mass, she went out into the bailey.  
    She had to pass by the training yard on her way to the mews…well, mayhap that wasn’t quite true. She could have cut across between the fore stable and the bakery, but then she wouldn’t have had the opportunity to walk past the pairs of men battling with broadsword and shield. And aside from that, the strip of grass between the stable and bakery was sure to be wet from the dew, which would soak her slippers.
    Thus, Judith had ample opportunity to observe the two dozen or so knights and men-at-arms as she went on her way. Many of them wore only mail chausses and boots, leaving their shoulders and chests bare. If it were midday, they likely wouldn’t have been so bold—for fear one of the women might see them. But