A Place Beyond Courage Read Online Free PDF Page B

casket. Sybilla had no trinkets of her own apart from her bronze cloak brooch and assorted hair ribbons. Her mother said she was too young to own such fripperies and the time would come all too soon when she was grown enough to have a lady’s responsibilities and therefore a lady’s privileges.
    Gazing upon the beautiful set of beads, Sybilla felt an enormous temptation to run to her bed and hide them under her pillow. No one would know; they would be her secret treasure. Perhaps God had meant her to have them by making her the finder. Then again, perhaps Satan was tempting her. She was old enough to know the Ten Commandments and that coveting and stealing were wicked sins. If she took the beads and her mother found out, the punishment would be terrible. Being whipped and denied dinner would be the least of it. She would probably be barred from playing with the jewel casket ever again too.
    Sybilla was still deliberating the merits and disadvantages of desire versus honesty when the young woman and her mother returned to the hall. Clearly distraught, the former was searching the floor, stooped over and taking small, slow paces. The mother followed, looking too, eyes screwed up as she struggled to focus. Guilt flashed through Sybilla. With a pang of regret but also a feeling of relief, she approached the women and held out the beads. ‘I found these,’ she said. A small, righteous glow warmed her stomach.
    The young woman fell on them with a joyful cry. ‘Thank you, thank you!’
    ‘I told you they would turn up,’ the mother said with a roll of her eyes.
    ‘They’re very pretty.’ Sybilla’s gaze was wistful as she watched their owner secure the beads to her belt and stroke them possessively.
    ‘The King’s marshal sent them to me,’ the young woman told her. ‘He’s my guardian.’
    Sybilla considered the statement with interest. She knew about guardians because her father often had to deal with such matters and she had heard him speaking to her mother about this heiress or that with lands in wardship. She wondered if their guardians sent them presents too. Perhaps it was a good thing to have a guardian.
    The mother reached into the purse hanging from her belt and producing a silver halfpenny gave it to Sybilla. ‘You’re a good girl,’ she said.
    Sybilla curtseyed politely as she had been taught, and thanked the woman, but the small piece of coin didn’t warm her hand as the beads had done and she went to drop it into the bowl of a beggar sitting outside the hall door where it fell with a soft, cold clink.

3
     
    Northampton, September 1131
     
    John paced Northampton castle’s wall walk and inhaled the scent of dying leaves and woodsmoke on the sharp midnight air. He was glad to be wearing his fur-lined cloak rather than his lighter indoor one as autumn began to encroach. The leaves were turning, the swine had been herded into the woods to feed on pannage in preparation for the November slaughter, and mushrooms were integral to every meal.
    He spoke to the guards, checked that all was well and looked out over a sward populated by the tents and pavilions of men unable to find lodgings in castle, town or auxiliary buildings. John and his officers had been toiling like ants to ensure the smooth operation of their particular concerns. Thus far, everything was running as easily as oiled fleece through an experienced spinster’s hands, but one had to be constantly alert for snags and tangles. Although most folk were abed by now and those who weren’t had legitimate reasons for being on the prowl, John hadn’t allowed the men on duty to relax their vigilance.
    The King was holding a grand session of pleas on the morrow and John knew he was going to be busy beyond belief. Still, it would be a lucrative time too, and he was expecting to prosper via the gratuities that would flood the marshal’s coffers. For every baron paying homage to the King, John was entitled to five and a half marks. There were lesser