To Defy a King Read Online Free PDF Page B

father dragged him off Longespee and put his bulk between them.
    'Enough! Whatever has to be said and done, let us not make it more of a spectacle than it already is.'

    White-faced, clearly in pain, Longespee responded with a stiff nod. Hugh clenched his body, squeezing down upon his own raw anger.

    'I shall recompense you for your loss,' Longespee offered. 'I'll buy you another courser - one that is sound of wind and limb this time.'

    Hugh bared his teeth. 'I want none of you. I would not take silver from your hand even if I were starving and destitute. That horse was worth more to me than money - but you wouldn't understand that!'

    Longespee said nothing, although his expression implied that he thought Hugh a fool to harbour sentiments over an animal. There was reproach too that his offer was being rejected with such bad grace.

    The King arrived. Someone had retrieved his whip from where it had fallen as Longespee rolled clear from the stricken horse, and now John gripped it in his hand. 'A bad business.' He shook his head. 'My condolences, Bigod.
    Your mare had a turn of speed, but speed is not everything.' He gave Roger and Hugh a pointed look. 'You need to look to your bloodlines, and have a care to how you breed your next generation.'

    'Sire, thank you for your concern and your advice,' Roger replied in a neutral tone. 'Be assured I will take it to heart. No bloodline is immune to failure.'

    John looked sourly amused. 'Indeed not, my lord.' As he started to turn away, he directed a look over his shoulder at Longespee. 'You have leave to use my chamber while I am gone should you need succour for your injuries.'

    Longespee shook his head. 'Thank you, sire, but I will join the hunt.'

    'As you wish. Your devotion is commendable - if foolhardy. ' John tapped Longespee's arm lightly with the whip and took his leave.

    With the King gone, Longespee handed the pouch containing the five marks to Roger, who did not refuse it. 'I regret what happened,' he said, breathing in shallow bursts, 'but the horse would have foundered sooner or later.'

    'So you have said already, and so I accept,' Roger replied impassively. Hugh couldn't bring himself to speak because, unlike his father, he didn't accept it at all.

    Longespee managed a bow before walking gingerly towards his own courser. Ralph, who had been watching wide-eyed on the edge of the fracas, hastily fetched the horse to the mounting block. By the time Longespee gained the saddle and gathered the reins he was white and sweating, but resolute.

    As the hunt rode out, grooms from the Bigod household fetched ropes to drag the mare away. Hugh eyed the bag in his father's hand with revulsion.
    'It's blood money,' he said, his throat working. 'He gives us silver from the wager that cost the life of my mare and he thinks his debt is paid, but I tell you this, sire, I will never lend or give him anything of mine again, and that is a vow unto the grave.'

    4

    Caversham, March 1204

    Mahelt darted her future husband a look through her lashes as he slipped a ring of plaited gold on to her heart finger. Three months ago, he had held her hand and danced with her at the Christmas feast in Canterbury. Now the gesture was part of a ceremony as binding as marriage itself. Hugh's manner was serious, lacking the light exuberance he had possessed before. This time she was strongly aware of being in the company of a grown man with whom she had nothing in common beyond their mutual status and the obligation of performing a family duty.

    Mahelt pressed her lips together and tried to ignore the fear uncoiling in her stomach. It wasn't as if she had to go and live with him right now. This was just a promise for later. All she had to do was make her responses, just like the progression of steps in a dance. She made herself look at him properly.

    His eyes were a summer sea-blue and a brief smile lit in them as they met hers, giving her a glimpse of the humour she remembered from the Christmas