The Winter Mantle Read Online Free PDF Page B

twins with plaits the colour of retted flax and complexions of new cream.
    The dark girl's initial aloofness reminded Waltheof of Judith, and in his drink-blurred state it had been easy to close his eyes and imagine that the body he was possessing was that of the Duke of Normandy's niece. Now, in the sobriety of the morning light, he saw that apart from her colouring there was little resemblance. The sultry aloofness was contrived, as much a technique of selling herself as was the enthusiasm of her fellow whores.
    She whispered words in his ear that he was certain Judith would not know, urging him on, clawing his spine. Waltheof groaned and gave himself up to the surge of climax. The whore gasped and writhed. That too, he thought hazily, must be an act. How could it be any other when she must have known so many men and her pay was dependent on satisfying her clients?
    He rolled off her and lay regaining his breath, listening to the sounds of the city of Fecamp awakening and beginning to bustle.
    'I please you?' She eyed him through the tangle of her hair and propped her chin on her hands.
    'Yes, you please me.' Waltheof sat up and flipped her another silver penny from his pouch.
    Clasping her hands at the back of his neck, she kissed him with enthusiasm. 'You will visit again?'
    'Perhaps,' he said, not wishing to disappoint. Suddenly he wanted to be out of this room with its stale odours of wine, sweat and copulation. Easing away from her, he donned his shirt. Last night she had told him her name but he could not remember it - didn't want to.
    She appraised him through her lashes, and sucked her index finger. 'Have you left a woman behind in England, my lord?'
    'Why should you think that?' Waltheof asked with a sidelong glance.
    'The way you hesitated before you made your choice - as if you had a conscience or thought you should not be here.'
    He gave a snort of grim amusement. 'You are perceptive.'
    She eyed him questioningly.
    Without bothering to lace his shirt Waltheof drew on his tunic. Braies and chausses swiftly followed. 'Are you always so inquisitive about your customers?'
    'Only the handsome ones with large pouches.' She stretched sinuously like a young vixen and smiled at him. 'And I have seldom seen one larger than yours, my lord.' Her gaze rested suggestively on his groin.
    Despite his irritation. Waltheof had to laugh. Leaning over, he slapped the girl's pert rump. 'I am glad to hear it.' Without giving her the chance to probe further, he went out of the door and quickly down the outer stairs.
    Peering into the main room he saw it was empty save for a woman scraping old wax from the candle prickets and a couple of William's hearth knights seated at a trestle sharing a pitcher of buttermilk. Waltheof greeted them courteously enough but with a wry set to his mouth. He and his fellow Englishmen might be permitted to roam abroad, but a Norman guard was never far behind, ensuring that no one attempted to escape. The knights were brawny and, although neither of them wore mail, the swords at their hips were conspicuous.
    Of Edgar, Edwin and Morcar there was no sign. Waltheof thought about kicking them out of bed and almost immediately decided against it. The pleasure of the deed would likely not compensate for the ensuing aggravation. Wandering outside he pissed in the midden pit beside the stable, and began a leisurely stroll in the direction of the palace.
    Another Norman wearing the quilted gambeson of a man-at-arms rose unobtrusively from a bench outside the kitchen buildings and followed him into the street. Waltheof gave a rueful half-glance over his shoulder and considered evading his shadow among the warren of lanes leading away from Fecamp's harbour, but it went no further than a thought. Rather like the notion of kicking his companions awake, the strife it would raise was not worth the bother of the mischief. If he did attempt to lose his guard, doubtless King William would confine him to the palace and double