RICHARD AWOKE WITH A start, torn from sleep so abruptly that he felt disoriented. For a disquieting moment, he did not know where he was, for this deeply shadowed chamber did not seem familiar. But then Morgan came into his line of vision, holding a candle aloft, and he remembered. He’d slept for hours, gotten up in the night to pass water, finding it so cold that he thought his piss might freeze, and then rolled into his blanket again and sank back into sleep as soon as he’d closed his eyes. Sitting up, he winced, for every muscle in his body was aching. “Is it morning yet?”
“Actually, the day is well-nigh gone,” Morgan said. “It is about two hours till sunset.”
“Jesu, Morgan, why did you not awaken me? We lost an entire day!”
“We needed to rest, sire,” Guillain said, quietly but firmly. “And so did the horses.”
Richard had to acknowledge the common sense of that, for he knew he’d just about reached the end of his endurance. Morgan was putting down a plate, saying the alewife had brought them cheese, bread, and ale to break their fast, and they’d sent Arne into the town to buy food and blankets.
Richard sipped the ale but did not touch the food. His face was flushed, and they could see sweat stains on his tunic, perspiration beading his forehead. Picking up a second cup, Morgan handed it to the other man. “Drink this, sire,” he urged. “It is barley water, which is said to be good for fevers.”
Richard started to deny his fever, then realized that was pointless. Reaching for the cup, he drank the barley water, grimacing at the taste. He forced himself then to swallow some of the bread and cheese, feeling their eyes upon him. “You say Arne went into the town? Is that safe for him?”
“They’re looking for knights, grown men, foreigners, not boys whose native tongue is German,” Guillain said. “Why would anyone pay heed to him?”
Richard was silent, thinking of all the men they’d lost so far. “I’d give a lot,” he said at last, “to know what happened back in Friesach.”
“I can tell you that,” Morgan said, so confidently that Richard paused with the bread halfway to his mouth. “They spent money like drunken sailors and mayhap even started a brawl if Baldwin thought it necessary to attract attention. When this Lord Friedrich arrived to interrogate them, they denied that the English king was amongst them and were highly indignant that men who’d taken the cross should be harassed or threatened. My guess is that Friedrich then put them under arrest. He must be in dread of Heinrich’s disfavor if he raced all the way from Salzburg to chase down a rumor. But they will not be harmed, sire. They are under the Church’s shield, and whilst some of Heinrich’s lords might be willing to seize you in defiance of that protection, I very much doubt that they will risk excommunication for anyone else.”
“I hope you are right, Cousin.” Setting the bread down, Richard lay back on the blanket, covered himself with his mantle, and his even breathing soon told them that he slept again.
Morgan took out their map and, after positioning the candle, he began to study the route they would take into Moravia. Fifty miles, not far at all. Then Bavaria and Saxony and sailing for England from a North Sea port. Lying down on his own blanket, he wondered where Joanna and Mariam were on this December day. Probably in Rome by now. Mariam would not be pleased when she learned that he’d refused to stay with the others in Friesach, for she had no liking for the English king and would not want him to put his life in peril for Richard. But he’d rather deal with her resentment than face Joanna and tell her he’d abandoned her brother in the lion’s den. He was very fond of his beautiful cousin, but she had a hellcat’s temper. All the Angevins did, he thought with a drowsy smile. He was half asleep when the door burst open and Arne stumbled into the room.
Guillain gestured toward Richard, warning Arne not to speak too loudly. “He needs his sleep. What happened, lad? By the looks of you, nothing good.”
His composure was both comforting and calming. Arne took several deep, bracing breaths, waiting until he could speak clearly and coherently. “I was stopped and questioned by men in the town. The moneychanger told them about my gold bezants. I was about to leave when they grabbed me. I was so scared . . .” he confessed, unable to repress a shudder.