Carnelian

Chapter 8

"Sir, we'll be late for breakfast if you tarry much longer."

Sir James awoke to the sound of his mother's page clearing his throat. At the boy's admonishment, the knight sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, reaching for his hosen as he did so. By habit, he reached over to touch the bracer on his left forearm, to reassure himself that it was there and to connect with the lady and her maids in the only means he had to do so, however limited. His fingers found only bare skin.

It wasn't the first time his bracer had slipped off the end of his stump in the night; he made a cursory search of his bedding, expecting to find it in the tangle of linens that his tossing and turning, night terrors and unsettling dreams usually produced in the morning. Even dressed, with his bed neatly made and thoroughly searched, the bracer was not to be found.

It was not under the mattress, nor under the bed, not even lost in the rushes that covered the floor. The page was pleased to find several coins, an assortment buttons and even a lady's brooch, but the bracer was nowhere to be found.

Frantic to find the bracer, Sir James didn't even stop to wonder who had been using the room before his lady mother had purposed it for her third-born son. The chest at the end of the bed, the chest of drawers, the wardrobe all yielded only the usual contents. Sir James was forced to conclude that the bracer had been stolen overnight.

His last link with the Enchanted Forest, save the blood spilled there, was gone. He sat down on the bed and rested his head on his hand. "You may go on to breakfast without me," he told the boy.

Carefully, the boy placed the double-handful of treasures on Sir James' side table. "Thank you, Sir. Shall I bring you a tray?"

"Take the brooch to my lady mother; the rest you may keep. Thank you for aiding my search." Sir James had no heart for his father's hall, for breaking his fast when his stomach was so full of heaviness already, for making merry with his father's men when all joy had sapped from him. "You needn't bring a tray," he added when the boy waited for an answer. "I'm not hungry."

"And what shall I tell His Lordship?" pressed the page further, "that you're ill?"

"Tell the truth. Lies do not become a knight of the realm, nor do they further his honor."

The page turned to go. "Yes, Sir."

"And Servis?"

The boy turned back. "Sir?"

"Knowing how much to tell, and how to say it, is a skill gained by experience. I would never wish you to lie on my behalf, and neither should anyone else. Lies are ignoble." Seeing that his explanation only furthered the child's perception of chastisement, Sir James sought to soften his tone. "Serve my noble mother well today. You are a good page." He knew he should offer a smile, but couldn't summon one.

Finally, Servis' expression lightened. "Thank you, Sir." He left on light feet. Sir James stayed where he was, having no desire nor will to move at all. He was a cripple, one who could not even dress himself in the morning. What point was there in getting up, in trying, in living at all? The entire household would be better off without him.

~~~

In Lord D'Apice's hall, Lady Adrianna accepted her plate that the page served, with no small amount of confusion. "Where is my son, Sir James?" she asked of the page boy.

Young Servis looked away. "He said for me to serve you well today, My Lady."

"Well now, that is good news!" Lord D'Apice was pleased. "I expect he wants to try on his own again."