Carnelian

Chapter 4

Sir James wished he could sleep, but the pain in his arm and foot kept him awake most of the time. He could see his left hand and part of his wrist, had watched his hand turn from mottled blue to a deep purple, watched the yellow streaks form between his shirt cuff and the discolored hand. If a lack of food and water didn't kill him first, then infection would surely do the job. He'd given up trying to move the hand or fingers, which meant that any attempt to struggle against his leafy prison would be out of the question.

To pass the time between Maid Willow's visits, Sir James had taken to reciting his catechism, as much of the Psalter as he could remember, his knightly creed, even mathematics if he was truly desperate. Singing anything could only be done immediately after a meal for the dry condition of his throat during the in-between times.

Exhausted and unable to sleep, Sir James closed his eyes and did his best to picture the mosaics at the entrance of the chapel inside Broadway Castle. In his mind, the choirboys sang while he admired a lily that was part of the mosaic.

Maid Willow's enthusiastic voice interrupted the knight's musings. "Sir James!" The child's voice was a distance away, though a short distance. "Sir James, guess what we have for dinner?" It was the same question she had asked five times before this and each time, Sir James humored her with outlandish guesses before settling on the correct one.

Sir James pictured the Christmas feast at Broadway, knowing he wouldn't have to answer until she'd asked once more. Finally, he rendered his first guess. "Pickled eel with squab pie?"

Delighted, she giggled. "No, silly. Why would anyone eat eels?"

"As you wish," he responded with a grin, knowing she knew nothing of life inside a castle. "Roasted goose with mulberry sauce?"

"Now that does sound tasty, but not quite." The voice wasn't Maid Willow's.

Sir James opened his eyes and did his best to straighten his stance as embarrassment stole over him. "Your Ladyship," he greeted her with as deep a nod as he could manage. "Forgive my cheek, My Lady, but Maid Willow and I have been at this game for two days now and I had not seen that you were in attendance."

"No offense was taken," she assured him with a slight nod in return to his. "Have you another guess?"

"Stewed venison with radishes and tubers?" He could only dare hope! It was a guess as foolish as the last, but was also his favorite meal.

Maid Willow beamed. "How did you guess?" she asked him. "I pulled the radishes myself!"

Her mistress agreed with a fond smile for the child. "Yes, and helped me pare the cattail tubers, also." She offered Sir James the water skin and allowed him to drink as deeply as he wished, even to the point of draining it.

Sir James nodded his thanks. "My Lady, the errand?" he asked her.

She reached through the vines to squeeze his shoulder. "The message is delivered and I am returned."

"And my lady mother, is she well?" Sir James couldn't prevent himself from asking.

Her Ladyship's expression was thoughtful. "I had no opportunity to meet her," she replied after a while. "But your noble father is in good health, though he mourns for you. He was a man bereft when I left, for though his son is in mortal peril, he can do nothing to change that."

Sir James couldn't wholly repress a sigh. "Yet he could have come to sit with me," he pointed out. "Though erect, I am on my deathbed."

"But for my king's warning, he would have brought an army," she replied as she cut a bite of the venison for him. "Do you really think your father could have stood here and watched you die without cutting you free?"