Название | The Last de Burgh |
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Автор произведения | Deborah Simmons |
Жанр | Историческая литература |
Серия | |
Издательство | Историческая литература |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn |
Nicholas turned away, unwilling to let his squire see his dismay. Was he feverish? Had he been stricken with some new malady? Nicholas finished his ablutions in silence, unease overcoming his earlier enjoyment.
Drying himself with a scrap of linen, he sat down to remove his boots, but left on his braies. Although he suspected no attack from outside forces, such was his custom whenever staying in a strange place. He had learned from his brothers how to leave in a hurry and a naked man was vulnerable in a fight.
Lying back upon the bed, Nicholas heard Guy settle on to his pallet. The firelight lent a soft glow to the room, which should be enough to guide Emery’s steps when he returned. Nicholas felt a stab of concern over the lengthy absence, but he doubted there were any threats within these walls. And he was not about to go after the boy.
With an effort, he turned his thoughts elsewhere, considering his plans for the morrow, when they would retrace their steps, heading back towards the Hospitaller commandery. For if Emery lived in the ‘old gatehouse’, then the uncle’s residence must be nearby. And whether Gerard was there or not, their search for him likely would end since there was nowhere else to look. No matter what the outcome, Nicholas’s quest would be over, as well as his association with Emery.
Nicholas shifted restlessly at the thought, balking at the approaching end of both. He had come to realise that he needed a task, something to be doing until he could do no more. And as for Emery … Nicholas shifted again as he acknowledged his odd kinship with the boy.
There was something about Emery that reminded him of home, which might explain the peculiar yearning that had struck him. Emery was obviously devoted to his brother, making Nicholas recall his own siblings with new affection. For a moment, he wondered about them and the changes these past months might have wrought, only to push such thoughts aside.
He also dismissed his plan to teach Emery some of his skills. He could not take on another squire, and he was not sure of his own abilities, considering the weariness, flashes of heat and strange giddiness that had come over him today. He would rather not start something he could not finish.
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