The Winter Mantle by Elizabeth Chadwick Page A

negotiation, and he had summoned his family to come to him. This Eastertide Duchess Matilda was to be crowned Queen of England in King Edward's great abbey of Westminster. Simon had pleaded with his father to be allowed to make the crossing as part of the entourage, promising vehemently to be a help, not a hindrance. He could walk, he could ride, he never complained. When his father had frowned doubtfully, Simon had started making plans to stow away on a supply vessel, but it had not come to that; his father had finally agreed to let him come. If only to prevent my ears from being nagged off,' he had said with a reluctant smile.
    De Rules had found Simon light fetching and carrying duties within the household. When his leg grew tired he was made to sit and keep tallies of the goods being transported, or given employment greasing armour and mail ready for the voyage.
    Yester eve they had sailed from the port of Dieppe and headed out into the Narrow Sea. Simon had been boarded on the Duchess's galley, its strakes painted a moon white and rows of overlapping kite shields protecting the deck from the exuberant salt spray. The ladies had recourse to a canvas deck shelter and had spent most of the time inside it, the flaps pulled tight. Duchess Matilda was not fond of journeying across water, although for her husband she would have braved sailing over the edge of the world itself.
    It was Simon's first sea voyage. His stomach was queasy, but he had not succumbed to outright seasickness. On the galley that held the Duke's sons he had several times seen Rufus puking over the side. There was no mistaking the pale sandy hair and thickset body. Simon felt sorry for Rufus and was glad that he was not sailing on that particular ship. Jeers from the Duke's older sons and their companions floated on the wind, laced with the malice of too much wine. The ringleader however, was not of William's brood, but Robert de Bêlleme, a son of the great Earl Roger of Montgomery. The youth was extraordinarily handsome and outwardly of a charming and debonair mien, but Simon knew from bitter experience that De Bêlleme's deeper nature was twisted and cruel. Inflicting pain and humiliation were favourite pastimes of his, and Simon, with his damaged leg, was often on the receiving end of pranks and taunts. Today he was safe, but Rufus, with his lack of grace and his stammer, was not.
    Simon inhaled the salt tang in the air and watched the band of dawn widen and spill across the sea like the glitter from an open treasure chest. Turning slightly, he saw the Lady Judith had emerged from the women's shelter. She nodded to him without speaking and went to look out on the approaching land.
    Simon knew that she did not like him much. He would always be grateful to her for giving him that hanging when he was confined to the tiny wall chamber in Fècamp, but he knew she had done it from guilt, not kindness.
    Lord Waltheof was smitten by her. She seldom laughed or smiled, and Simon thought that the Earl pursued her in the hopes of making her do those things. He was hoping that Waltheof would be at court. He wanted to show him how far he had progressed since their last encounter. From halting steps to strides, from blotted scrawl to fluent script, and from uncertain notes on the bone flute to twinkling tunes.
    He had been standing in one place for too long and as he moved vicious pain stabbed through his leg, making him stumble. He stifled the instinctive cry of pain and managed to grab a stay rope and remain upright. Lady Judith half glanced, then swiftly averted her head.
    Turning his back, pretending he had not seen her look, Simon limped stiffly towards the red-faced sailor at the steer-board. The man greeted him with a grin and let him try his hand at operating the large wooden rudder. Simon's discomfort immediately diminished as he tackled the challenge of learning a new skill. The wind tangling his hair, a mist of salt droplets narrowing his eyes, he became a