Hempe said.
‘I pray that feeling is justified,’ said Owen, not at all sure himself. He’d spent the better part ofa day talking to people but had learned precious little.
He parted with Hempe once through the gate. It was about the time at which Drogo had gone into the river the previous day. How quickly the lives of the pilot’s family had changed. How suddenly life had lost its certainty for them.
In the early hours, with a dusting of snow falling on frozen ground already thinly covered, Jasper shivered and stomped as he waited for Kate to fetch the food she had packed for them.
‘Perhaps you need more clothing,’ Owen said.
Jasper grunted and shook his head. ‘I’m like this in the morning. I cannot get warm, and then when I truly wake I’m comfortable. I’ve always been this way.’
Owen did not recall that about Jasper, but by questioning him he might undo all the good he was accomplishing by taking him along to Weston. They’d had too many arguments of late, the lad being far more sensitive to any perceived slight than he’d been in the past. Owen did not feel safe suggesting anything or asking for assistance in any task – Jasper would take it as a complaint, or criticism. Lucie said he was suffering growing pains, but Owen wondered whether the troublesome Alisoun had something to do with it. He was hoping that this journey might rekindle the old camaraderie he sorely missed with Jasper. In the past they’d enjoyed archery and gardeningtogether, both skills that Owen had taught him – he’d been an enthusiastic student. He missed their comfortable conversations, the delight of being sought out for advice.
They headed for the palace stables, where Rafe and Gilbert were to meet them. Once in the stables Jasper did appear comfortable, though that might have more to do with the warmth from the horses than his clothing. Owen had taught Jasper to ride when they travelled between York and Lucie’s manor of Freythorpe Hadden, and he’d taken to it quite well. But this was a longer ride, and the weather increasingly unpleasant. Owen wondered whether he’d been premature in bringing Jasper. He laughed at himself and resolved to stop fussing about Jasper’s comfort. It appeared that the lad considered himself in good company. He and Rafe, one of Owen’s youngest men and sometimes a bit too gregarious, were discussing the merits of various saddles, and Gilbert had already managed to compliment Jasper, inspiring a proud smile. Owen relaxed. Jasper had been through more in his fourteen years than Owen had been through when he became an archer for the Duke of Lancaster.
Two grooms had been instructed to escort them, leading the horses from the stables and through the city, across the Ouse Bridge and out Micklegate.
Owen walked beside Jasper, who gazed around as if seeing the city for the first time. The bridge particularly seemed to delight him.
‘You’ve crossed the Ouse many times,’ said Owen.
‘I cannot believe I’m here with you, Captain,’ Jasper said, his smile radiant for a moment, after which he self-consciously straightened his mouth and affected a bored expression.
Seven years? Eight? He still called Owen ‘Captain’, never ‘Da’. But neither did he call Lucie ‘Ma’. Perhaps that was asking too much of him, for the lad had deeply loved both his parents, and still mourned them.
‘Sometimes I cannot believe how you’ve grown,’ said Owen. ‘I must remember to take advantage of you while you’re still in the household.’
Out in the countryside the snow brightened the ground, providing contrast with shapely limbs and dark junipers, stone walls and houses. But it also dampened the riders and Owen’s companions all expressed relief when he decided they would stay in Wetherby for the night so that they might reach Hubert’s home in daylight.
While Gilbert and Rafe flirted with the innkeeper’s pretty daughter, Owen and Jasper sat in a corner near a crackling fire and
‘I pray that feeling is justified,’ said Owen, not at all sure himself. He’d spent the better part ofa day talking to people but had learned precious little.
He parted with Hempe once through the gate. It was about the time at which Drogo had gone into the river the previous day. How quickly the lives of the pilot’s family had changed. How suddenly life had lost its certainty for them.
In the early hours, with a dusting of snow falling on frozen ground already thinly covered, Jasper shivered and stomped as he waited for Kate to fetch the food she had packed for them.
‘Perhaps you need more clothing,’ Owen said.
Jasper grunted and shook his head. ‘I’m like this in the morning. I cannot get warm, and then when I truly wake I’m comfortable. I’ve always been this way.’
Owen did not recall that about Jasper, but by questioning him he might undo all the good he was accomplishing by taking him along to Weston. They’d had too many arguments of late, the lad being far more sensitive to any perceived slight than he’d been in the past. Owen did not feel safe suggesting anything or asking for assistance in any task – Jasper would take it as a complaint, or criticism. Lucie said he was suffering growing pains, but Owen wondered whether the troublesome Alisoun had something to do with it. He was hoping that this journey might rekindle the old camaraderie he sorely missed with Jasper. In the past they’d enjoyed archery and gardeningtogether, both skills that Owen had taught him – he’d been an enthusiastic student. He missed their comfortable conversations, the delight of being sought out for advice.
They headed for the palace stables, where Rafe and Gilbert were to meet them. Once in the stables Jasper did appear comfortable, though that might have more to do with the warmth from the horses than his clothing. Owen had taught Jasper to ride when they travelled between York and Lucie’s manor of Freythorpe Hadden, and he’d taken to it quite well. But this was a longer ride, and the weather increasingly unpleasant. Owen wondered whether he’d been premature in bringing Jasper. He laughed at himself and resolved to stop fussing about Jasper’s comfort. It appeared that the lad considered himself in good company. He and Rafe, one of Owen’s youngest men and sometimes a bit too gregarious, were discussing the merits of various saddles, and Gilbert had already managed to compliment Jasper, inspiring a proud smile. Owen relaxed. Jasper had been through more in his fourteen years than Owen had been through when he became an archer for the Duke of Lancaster.
Two grooms had been instructed to escort them, leading the horses from the stables and through the city, across the Ouse Bridge and out Micklegate.
Owen walked beside Jasper, who gazed around as if seeing the city for the first time. The bridge particularly seemed to delight him.
‘You’ve crossed the Ouse many times,’ said Owen.
‘I cannot believe I’m here with you, Captain,’ Jasper said, his smile radiant for a moment, after which he self-consciously straightened his mouth and affected a bored expression.
Seven years? Eight? He still called Owen ‘Captain’, never ‘Da’. But neither did he call Lucie ‘Ma’. Perhaps that was asking too much of him, for the lad had deeply loved both his parents, and still mourned them.
‘Sometimes I cannot believe how you’ve grown,’ said Owen. ‘I must remember to take advantage of you while you’re still in the household.’
Out in the countryside the snow brightened the ground, providing contrast with shapely limbs and dark junipers, stone walls and houses. But it also dampened the riders and Owen’s companions all expressed relief when he decided they would stay in Wetherby for the night so that they might reach Hubert’s home in daylight.
While Gilbert and Rafe flirted with the innkeeper’s pretty daughter, Owen and Jasper sat in a corner near a crackling fire and
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