Read Online The Nethergrim by Matthew Jobin - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Matthew Jobin
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Papa!” Katherine waved. Her father did not seem to see her. He stood beneath a brightly colored canopy next to the stern, stooped figure of Lord Aelfric of Elverain, looking obviously uncomfortable amongst the crowd of noble guests gathered to soak in his unwanted glory. Lord Aelfric was making a speech, but his creaky old voice did not carry far.
“We should go and watch.” Katherine grabbed for Tom and turned to push into the crowd. “And then when Harry comes to join them, we can tell him all about what we found up on the hill last night. I could even lead him up there myself, and—”
“No, no!” Edmund wanted more than anything to avoid another brush with Harry. “We should take Tom to see the archery tourney. He’s never seen one before!” He tugged Tom the other way, off toward the dozen targets that had been raised on open ground below the castle.
Tom looked from one friend to the other, his long arms stretched out wide in both directions. He did not seem to care which way they dragged him.
“Well—all right, then.” Katherine let go. “For Tom.”
They turned back across the field, finding a place along the strip of trees beside the archery lists. A crowd of men, none of them rich or noble, stood at the other end with longbows in hand. A few at a time stepped up to the mark, shot three arrows at the butts and earned the praise or joking scorn of their fellows.
“A good day for it, I suppose.” Katherine fluffed out her skirts to sit in the grass. “Not much of a crosswind.” Tom lay back against a walnut tree. He reached out to pluck a blade of grass and started chewing on it. Edmund found a spot on a boulder that had soaked up some heat from the day, and sat atop it with his longbow laid across his lap. One of his neighbors stepped up to shoot—Jordan Dyer took his stance, drew back and hit within a hair of the bull’s-eye.
“Good one, Jordan!” Edmund clapped along with the crowd. He felt an idle wish that he practiced more himself, enough at least that he could enter the tourney without looking a fool. The trouble was that just about everyone in the village was a crack shot—they started drilling at the targets once a week as little kids, and the men were bound by Lord Aelfric’s laws to keep at it until they were sixty. There were no such laws in Bale, the town where Edmund had lived until he was ten. By the time Edmund had moved to Moorvale with his family, the boys his own age were so good that there seemed no point in trying to catch up.
“You’re right—better than a speech.” Katherine settled back against the boulder, her shoulder resting just near Edmund’s foot. “You’re coming to the feast for sure, then?”
“I wouldn’t miss it.” Not for all the world.
“I’m a little afraid of it, to be honest. The dance, I mean.”
“Why?”
“There are going to be rich girls there, noble girls with their dainty little hands, wearing gowns that cost as much as Papa’s house.” Katherine looked down at her own hands, then tried to hide them up the sleeves of her dress. “I know what people say about me. I’m afraid I’ll just stand by the wall all night.”
Edmund could not have asked, could not have dreamed in a thousand nights for a better moment. He nearly let it slip by, so amazed he was at its perfection. He took a breath. “Well, if you want, I would be happy—no, I would be honored, deeply honored, if you—”
She looked up at him. His mouth went dry.
“Ah—Katherine, isn’t it?”
Katherine gasped and leapt to her feet. She curtsied. “My lord!”
“Not a lord yet.” Harry waved a hand through the air. “I was just speaking to your father, Katherine. What a day this must be for him!”
Edmund sat staring at the space where Katherine had just been. Tom awoke, blinked up at Harry and scrambled out of the way without being noticed.
“I have not seen you in some time, Katherine—it must be years, I think.” Harry stood Katherine’s
“We should go and watch.” Katherine grabbed for Tom and turned to push into the crowd. “And then when Harry comes to join them, we can tell him all about what we found up on the hill last night. I could even lead him up there myself, and—”
“No, no!” Edmund wanted more than anything to avoid another brush with Harry. “We should take Tom to see the archery tourney. He’s never seen one before!” He tugged Tom the other way, off toward the dozen targets that had been raised on open ground below the castle.
Tom looked from one friend to the other, his long arms stretched out wide in both directions. He did not seem to care which way they dragged him.
“Well—all right, then.” Katherine let go. “For Tom.”
They turned back across the field, finding a place along the strip of trees beside the archery lists. A crowd of men, none of them rich or noble, stood at the other end with longbows in hand. A few at a time stepped up to the mark, shot three arrows at the butts and earned the praise or joking scorn of their fellows.
“A good day for it, I suppose.” Katherine fluffed out her skirts to sit in the grass. “Not much of a crosswind.” Tom lay back against a walnut tree. He reached out to pluck a blade of grass and started chewing on it. Edmund found a spot on a boulder that had soaked up some heat from the day, and sat atop it with his longbow laid across his lap. One of his neighbors stepped up to shoot—Jordan Dyer took his stance, drew back and hit within a hair of the bull’s-eye.
“Good one, Jordan!” Edmund clapped along with the crowd. He felt an idle wish that he practiced more himself, enough at least that he could enter the tourney without looking a fool. The trouble was that just about everyone in the village was a crack shot—they started drilling at the targets once a week as little kids, and the men were bound by Lord Aelfric’s laws to keep at it until they were sixty. There were no such laws in Bale, the town where Edmund had lived until he was ten. By the time Edmund had moved to Moorvale with his family, the boys his own age were so good that there seemed no point in trying to catch up.
“You’re right—better than a speech.” Katherine settled back against the boulder, her shoulder resting just near Edmund’s foot. “You’re coming to the feast for sure, then?”
“I wouldn’t miss it.” Not for all the world.
“I’m a little afraid of it, to be honest. The dance, I mean.”
“Why?”
“There are going to be rich girls there, noble girls with their dainty little hands, wearing gowns that cost as much as Papa’s house.” Katherine looked down at her own hands, then tried to hide them up the sleeves of her dress. “I know what people say about me. I’m afraid I’ll just stand by the wall all night.”
Edmund could not have asked, could not have dreamed in a thousand nights for a better moment. He nearly let it slip by, so amazed he was at its perfection. He took a breath. “Well, if you want, I would be happy—no, I would be honored, deeply honored, if you—”
She looked up at him. His mouth went dry.
“Ah—Katherine, isn’t it?”
Katherine gasped and leapt to her feet. She curtsied. “My lord!”
“Not a lord yet.” Harry waved a hand through the air. “I was just speaking to your father, Katherine. What a day this must be for him!”
Edmund sat staring at the space where Katherine had just been. Tom awoke, blinked up at Harry and scrambled out of the way without being noticed.
“I have not seen you in some time, Katherine—it must be years, I think.” Harry stood Katherine’s
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