Title: Relative Strangers, Part 1

Author: Polly

Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Covington Cross – Gil Grant and the rest of them do.  I’m not making any money out of this either.

 

 

It was a warm, close, afternoon at Covington Cross and the air held the scent of freshly cut grass and summer flowers.  As the servants and tenants of Sir Thomas’ estate went about their daily routines in as organised a hub-ub as possible, a far less serene event was taking place in the main courtyard. 

 

“Give that back!” Cedric Grey yelled, grasping futilely at thin air for the object in question. “I mean it, Richard! I’m not joking.”  What had started out as an amusing prank, was suddenly becoming much more serious for the young cleric who was desperately struggling not to lose face in the company of his entire collection of miserable siblings.  For at that moment, they were all becoming miserable to him.  Richard was the main, villainous perpetrator, with occasional jibes from William, and Eleanor, whilst not strictly aiding and abetting the deed, was not exactly helping him, leaning casually against the fence-post with an expression of mild curiosity in her eyes. 

 

Richard waved the offending roll of parchment just out of Cedric’s desperate reach.  “All I want to know, little brother, is what you are so avidly concealing from us in this letter?  Perhaps you are a spy. Hmm? Reporting our deepest, darkest secrets to Baron Mullens?  This could reveal a treacherous ploy to bring down the Grey family.”

“It’s nothing of the sort, you incompetent oaf and if you had half a brain about you then you would realise that!”  Cedric replied, looking decidedly flustered and red-faced.  Eleanor rolled her eyes heavenward in exasperation.  “Come on, Richard.  It was funny at first, but now just let him have it.  The imp is quickly becoming annoying.” Cedric shot her a sour look, and one not devoid of hurt – after all, he was used to his older brothers joining sides against him, but his older sister usually showed him more support.  Still, at least she was aiming for the desired effect, he mused.  And to her credit, it appeared to be working.  Richard lowered his arm and brought the roll of parchment back down to Cedric’s reach, stepping closer to him as he did so, an expression of amused defeat on his face.

“All right, little brother.  Take your parchment of life-saving proportions and go about your day with a skip in your step and a song in your heart!” Cedric was not amused at the sarcasm but was too relieved at re-obtaining his letter, so he didn’t bother to come up with a suitable rebuff.  However, just as his fingers grazed the edge of the letter, Richard snatched it quickly out of his grasp and opened it, reading the first line out aloud.

“My dear Lily, it has been so long since..” - Cedric launched himself at him, knocking him to the ground in an attempt to stop his brother from reading any further. Richard, however, was easily evading him and managed to climb back up to his feet whilst Cedric was still piled ungainly on the ground. Richard was no longer reading however, but was instead laughing hysterically, so much so in fact, that he appeared to be having trouble breathing.

“Good!” Cedric spat at him, “I hope you burst a lung and....and, any thing else that might happen to an idiot who can’t stop laughing at something which isn’t funny in the least!”

Richard gasped for air, managing to get out, “A love letter?  This is the big secret? Why Cedric - I wouldn’t have guessed you had it in you.”

Cedric looked aghast at all his siblings and was dismayed to see that even Eleanor had the hint of a smile on her lips. “Honestly, Cedric”, she attempted to console, “it’s not like you needed to be ashamed of it. We all know of your amorous dispositions around here.”

Cedric however did not look amused as he finally scrambled to his feet.  He no longer made any attempt to take the letter from Richard and when William noticed that his younger brother no longer had the will to fight, he quickly realised that the jest had gone too far, immediately becoming protective of his baby brother.

“All right, Richard. That’s enough now. Let him have his letter back.  We all write personal letters of some kind and no one wants those spread about. At least,” he said, smugly, with a sideways glance at Richard, “those of us who do actually write.” 

“Your attempts at wit are almost as amusing as Cedric’s letters, brother, but I will concede your point as is fitting to my good grace and intelligence.” He ignored the snort of disbelief from his siblings and graciously handed Cedric back his letter, which he then tucked safely beneath his shirt.  In an attempt to regain some lost dignity, he squared his shoulders evenly and began to surreptitiously straighten his clothing, making it clear that he was still annoyed at Richard, yet too big a man to let the whole situation ruffle him.  Richard noticed these attempts and decided that it couldn’t hurt to mend some bridges and humour his brother.

 

“I’m sorry Cedric. Honestly, I didn’t mean any harm. If I ever compose a sonnet of my own, you will be the first person who will get to hear it, I give you my word.”  He held his hand for Cedric to shake and, though Cedric doubted the complete sincerity of that statement, he begrudgingly took the proffered hand.  “Right then.” William exclaimed, suddenly, “now that we’re all friends again, I’m going to do a check on the inventory.”

“Again?” Eleanor asked. “You did one this morning.  You know I’m certain you boys just lay around the fields when you claim that you are off working.  Cedric and I are most likely the only people who do any real work in this castle.”

“I beg to differ, sister most dear, but what exactly do you do all day that is so strenuous?  That lute must tire your fingers so.”  Richard folded his arms across his chest, clearly waiting for another good argument to begin. She didn’t disappoint him.  “You arrogant pig!” she exclaimed, though a smile was clearly playing on her lips.  “I catch and skin half the animals that you feed your belly with on the table every day.”

“Well women are supposed to prepare the meals - what’s special in that? Besides, hunting only requires a good aim. What William and I do, requires a great deal of strength as well as skill and finesse.”

“A great deal of strength?!”  Eleanor repeated with a laugh.  “They’re sheep, Richard - not oxen!”  “Yes”, he replied, “but you are forgetting that there is a great deal of heavy lifting involved.”

“Yes I don’t doubt it.”  Cedric said joined in with mock sincerity, “I hear the pints at the Magpie’s Nest have doubled in size and weight since Eleanor and I last found time to go in there.”  Cedric was never too downtrodden to join in a good argument between his siblings.  Richard shot him a sour look whilst William just rolled his eyes and began to make his way towards the paddocks.  “Keep that up, little brother”, said Richard, evenly, “and I might just be forced to tell father all about the occasion when you ‘last found time’ to visit the Magpie’s Nest.  When was it exactly?  During the summer festival riots when father had strictly forbidden you or Eleanor to leave the castle grounds? Yes, I think that was it - my memory is coming back to me with an inexplicable rush of enthusiasm.”

Cedric narrowed his eyes, suspiciously, not entirely certain whether his brother was joking or not.  Eleanor, too, now that she had been drawn into this again, came forward from her place by the fence to stand almost toe to toe with Richard, Cedric next to her like two opposing armies poised to strike.  “I would hope, Richard for your sake, that you are joking,” she replied, sweetly. “After all, I think father would also like to know who cruelly abandoned us at the tavern, leaving us all defenceless and alone, whilst he dallied in the back meadows with Susannah the bar maid.”  She smiled brightly at him as he pretended to size her up carefully.  Finally he broke into a grin himself.  “I guess we’re all locked to secrecy till the day we die, then.”

“That seems the best course of action.”  Cedric hastily agreed.

“Come on, my young and defenceless siblings - I think those were my ribs, Eleanor - you should watch your ungainly arm-swinging: you’ll never get a husband at that rate - let us go and observe the master at work with the sheep.  He really does seem to excel himself with bovines.”  So, draping an arm casually around his brother and sister, they began to follow William to the pastures.

 

Out of the summer haze, however, came the hastily advancing form of what soon became recognizable as the Friar. Cedric turned and seeing him making for them in some haste, groaned audibly. “I can’t believe he found me again! Does that man never cease?”  They all stopped and waited for the Friar to catch up with them, although Cedric would dearly loved to have made a run for it.  It wouldn’t have been any good, though.  He would have to make it back up to the schoolroom eventually.  Eleanor and Richard, once again relaxed into the comforting scenario of watching their little brother squirm his way out of an uncomfortable situation.  It was so common place that it had become reassuringly familiar.  “You know, Cedric”, Richard said mildly, “for the right price, William and I could show you how to lock the Friar in the privy with much greater efficiency than what you seem to have accomplished.”

 

“William! Cedric!  I...I must speak with you!” the Friar called as he tried to catch his breath.  Finally reaching them, the Friar stood there for a moment, doubled over and panting for breath, before he finally spoke.  “Your father wants you all to come into the Great Hall at once.  He has something very important to tell you all.” 

“What is it?” Eleanor asked, her curiosity piqued.

“Don’t get your hopes up, Eleanor.” Richard cut in, “it’s most likely another trader who is stopping by for us to entertain.”

“I don’t believe so Master Richard - I believe it is family business. Is Master William nearby?  I must tell him as well.”

“Yes, Friar. He should be in the pastures.  If he’s not there, could you let us know because

I’m sure that would be worth a drink or two down the tavern if he knew that we knew.”  Eleanor asked eagerly, already envisaging her idle brother’s face when he was caught sleeping by a haystack.  Though slightly perplexed by her request, the Friar acknowledged it duly, his mind too preoccupied with completing his task to give it much thought. 

“Well, thank-you for the message, Friar.” Richard said as he began to head off towards the castle. “Yes”, Cedric agreed, quickly following his brother’s lead, “very kind.”  The Friar fixed him with a meaningful glare. “You needn’t think that I’ve forgotten, Cedric - and neither has your father.  Who do you think had to free me from the privy in order to send me on this errand?”  Again, Cedric groaned inwardly as Eleanor tried unsuccessfully to cover a smirk, pulling her little brother back towards the castle.

 

Sir Thomas paced the floor of the Great Hall excitedly, waiting for his children to arrive.  He read and re-read the roll of paper in his hand, every now and then, giving it a sharp, triumphant tap, as if he succeeded in solving a puzzle every time he looked at it.  It had all been so long, he thought to himself, wistfully. Too long in his opinion.  Things should have been sorted out long ago, fifteen years ago to be exact but somehow, even with Anne’s death, the time had never seemed right.  Now, however, with this latest development it seemed that an opportunity had been given to him to rebuild the past, and he wasn’t about to turn it down.  After what seemed like an age and a day, the door to the Hall flung open and three of his brood sauntered into the room.  The last of the motley crew was nowhere to be seen, but Sir Thomas had always surmised that his third oldest was the most conscientious worker of his children.  He was doubtless away managing some distant part of the estate. 

 

“What is it, Father?” Richard asked as they entered the room.

“I’m glad you’re all here, but I really should wait for William.”

“Oh please, Father. Tell us what’s going on - we’re dying to know.” Eleanor pleaded. 

“If you could just hold your attention for a few minutes more, Eleanor”, their father replied, somewhat sarcastically.

“I’m baiting my breath as we speak, Father”, she replied as sweetly as possible.  So Eleanor, Richard and Cedric sat themselves down in the Hall, whilst their father continued a slightly calmer version of his previous pacing, until presently, the door opened again and William strode through, his face clearly showing that he considered some great business deal was about to be dropped in their laps.

“Ah, William - good.  If you’ll take a seat with your sister and brothers, then we may begin.”  He didn’t say anything, but curiously took his seat, as instructed. 

“Now,” Sir Thomas began, “as you all may be aware, I have some exciting news - some very good news, in fact.”  He paused to ensure that he had their undivided attention - somewhat like a child about to perform a recital of some kind.  They were, indeed, undivided, so he continued, “Your Great Uncle Peter, has died!”  A noticeable silence filled the Hall for a moment.  Cedric lent forward slightly, his brow furrowed in confusion, “And I take it we don’t like this …great uncle...Peter?”

“Oh, no no”, Thomas amended quickly, “No he was a decent enough fellow - never really knew the man much myself, buut the point is, that he was a very wealthy man, with no surviving relatives, except for our line of the family.”

“You mean there’s an inheritance?” Richard asked eagerly.

“Yes!” said his father, triumphantly.

“Bags I get a new cross-bow!” Eleanor put in, enthusiastically.

“No”, said Richard, defensively, “I am in urgent need of a new horse! As I’m the eldest, my knightly needs should come first.”

“You’re both wrong!” Cedric protested, “this money could ensure that I be allowed to become a Knight - a far more worthy cause, I think father will agree.”  The bickering had the potential to carry on for an eternity, but William succeeded in cutting it short.

“So how much do you get?” he asked, calmly.

“Not a penny!” cried Sir Thomas with great excitement.

Again, silence reigned supreme for a few awkward moments as the four children struggled to make some sense of this.

“Forgive us, Father”, Eleanor said eventually, “but we are failing to reach the levels of enthusiasm which seem to have been bestowed upon you.”

“Quite, Father”, Richard agreed. “If you are not entitled to any of it, then why tell us about it at all?”

“It’s a mean, dirty trick that’s what it is...” Cedric mumbled to himself, ignored by all.

“The good news, children, is that the inheritance should go to my older brother, Charles.”

They all appeared slightly shocked at the latest developments.

“But Father,” William said, “I didn’t know you had an older brother.”

“Oh yes,” Sir Thomas replied, the earlier hint of sadness returning to his eyes momentarily, but then it was gone. “He left a long time ago. I’m sure only Armus might remember him, but even he would have been a very little boy at the time.”

“So where is Uncle Charles now?” Eleanor asked.

“Well I’m not entirely certain, but I have a feeling that he is either in France or the Low Countries.  He doesn’t know about the inheritance yet, of course.”

“Then what’s the problem?” Cedric exclaimed, happily.  “He never has to know!” William elbowed Cedric in the ribs, none too gently.

“Ow!” he exclaimed, “what was that for?”

“Father wouldn’t cheat his own brother, Cedric!”

“Well I wouldn’t think twice if it was you!” Cedric retorted. 

“Enough, children!” Sir Thomas called, raising his hands for peace.  “I am most anxious to resume contact with your uncle and when he arrives here, I hope that you will not only show him the courtesy which I know you are all capable of, but will also grow to accept him as one of the family.”

 

“Of course, Father.” Eleanor agreed, quickly. She rose and gave her father a peck on the cheek. “I’m looking forward to meeting him already.” She smiled one of her sincere smiles, to let him know that she was serious.  “Thank you, Eleanor.  I may always count on you for your kindness and understanding.” He sighed, somewhat affectionately, “You have so many of your mother’s qualities about you.”  She looked at him with a mixture of surprise and appreciation, before her embarrassment at her obviously gentile behaviour in front of her brothers, won out and she gracefully excused herself, leaving the room quickly. 

 

“When do you think he will arrive, Father?” William asked, also rising.

“I’m hoping that he will be in England within the next few weeks.  I am so looking forward to this meeting. It has been too long and too negligent of me.”

“Well he could have made the move to contact you first.” Richard pointed out.

“True” Thomas agreed. “Perhaps the burden should be equal.”

“But why have we never heard of him?” Cedric protested. Richard shot him a look to tactfully silence him.

“What?!” Cedric demanded, angrily.  “I only want to know why we never seem to talk about our own families!  Father can’t hate his brother that much, surely?”

“Come along, Cedric”, William said, hastily, “you can help us with the sheep.” He and Richard began to drag the protesting Cedric out of the Hall, whilst Sir Thomas just watched them go, not quite sure what to make of all of it.

“I don’t want to help you with the bloody sheep - I just want to know why nobody is answering my questions!” Cedric exclaimed in annoyance as his brothers finally released him once safely out of the castle.  “Because, little brother!” William replied, sternly, “The topic of the rift between father and his brother, is obviously still painful to him.”

“He didn’t seem pained to me”, Cedric pointed out.

“He did to those who know how to read him.” Richard insisted.  Cedric felt a little hurt by the implication that he wasn’t connected to his own father, but he decided not to continue this argument any further.  “Well you two can think what you like! I have more important things to worry about.”

“You’re right there,” William agreed mildly, “From the sound of the Friar and father’s voices in there, I think he’s just remembered where you were meant to be today.”

“Oh God’s teeth!” Cedric groaned, “If either of them ask - you didn’t see me.”  He didn’t bother checking to see whether his brothers were going to comply or not, but made a hasty retreat to the orchards.

William and Richard watched him go, shaking their heads in amusement.  “You hear that, Richard? If father asks us where the foul-mouthed little man of the Cloth is, then we’ve no idea.”

“Yes”, Richard agreed, “absolutely no idea that the little blasphemer has headed straight to the orchards and that they could catch up with him if they just kept a steady pace.”

“He’s headed straight to Hell, more like, with language like that.” William added.  “So do you want to do a live-stock inventory?”

“Might as well.  Race you to the pastures.”

“Richard, that is far too childish, I am above such things - you scurvy cheat! You started without me!!!  I’ll beat you there, Richard so don’t even try.”....

 

 

Cedric wandered aimlessly through the orchards, the smell of the fruit tempting him with every step he took.  Finally, his hunger over-powered him and picking out a ripe apple, he began to munch slowly on it.  So far the day had been an eventful one, but not entirely pleasant.  He didn’t really care about the loss of the inheritance - it wasn’t as if they were in need of it, after all - but he was generally upset over his whole family.  They treated him like he wasn’t even there at times and when they did acknowledge him lately, it was only to tease him or rebuff him for something he had said or done.  ‘I reckon that I could disappear off the face of this Earth, and they wouldn’t even notice I’d gone’, he thought, ruefully in a pleasant moment of self-pity.  He lay down on the grass, apple in hand and closed his eyes, imagining the horror-struck look on his brothers’ faces if he were to be declared missing and the hell his father would put them through until he decided to turn up safely again.

“You look like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders”, came a soft, kind voice from behind him.  His eyes shot open and he turned on one elbow to see the lady who owned that beautiful voice.

“Nan!” he exclaimed, happily.

“Hello Cedric.  How have you been?”  He stood up to greet her properly.

“Terrible.  I was trying to find you this morning but I got way laid.  I wanted to talk to you about something.  Do you have time to sit and talk?” he asked hopefully.

“I’m sure I can manage it, Cedric.”, she replied, smiling.  Cedric had always held the belief that she had one of the most beautiful smiles he had ever seen - it was filled with compassion, and understanding, love and humour and just a tinge of sadness that he couldn’t place, but was somehow comfortingly familiar.  Her face was soft and pale, framed by a wavy head of dark curls that fell loosely over her shoulders.  Her blue eyes were a perfect match for her sky blue dress and when she spoke and moved, it was with the smooth mixture of the intelligence and grace of an older woman, and a capacity and enthusiasm for fun - the kind small children harness with ease. 

She sat down on the soft grass and Cedric followed suit.  “So tell me your worries, Cedric.”, she said, patiently, “why were you trying to find me this morning?”

“Oh”, Cedric said dismissively with a slight wave of his hand, “it was nothing really, just...well...do you remember that girl I was telling you about?”  Nan pretended to narrow her eyes in deep concentration, “Now...which one would that have been?”

“You know!” Cedric protested with mock indignation - somehow her teasing was always kind and gentle and never bothered him like his family’s did. “Lily.”, he informed her, anyway.

“Ah yes! The infamous Lily. I remember now - please go on.”

“Well, I wrote that poem, as you suggested, and well...”he broke off, sheepishly,

“I would like to look at it, if I may?” Nan offered, kindly.

“Oh,” Cedric said, relieved, “well, yes - if you want to look at it and, maybe tell me what you think, then please feel free.” He handed her the parchment from under his shirt and studied the ground intently whilst she read it carefully.  As her keen eyes darted over the page, a look of sorrow clouded her eyes, even as a gentle smile curled her lips.  Finally she looked up from the page and turned her gaze on the rather nervous young man before her.

“It is truly wonderful, Cedric.”, she assured him, handing him back the letter.

“Are you sure?” he asked, uncertainly, apparently still unconvinced. “I mean I looked at the works of the poets you suggested but when I read mine after I had completed it, it didn’t seem to have the same type of words, or styles...or any kind of eloquence what so ever.”

“That doesn’t matter, Cedric.  What matters is what is in your heart.  I could dictate to you, entire sonnets by some of the greatest poets of our times, but if you didn’t truly mean the words you wrote, then they in turn would mean nothing to Lily.  What you have done is far more effective.”

“So you think its worthy of giving to Lily?”

“I only hope that Lily is worthy of receiving it”, she insisted, warmly.  Cedric appeared happy at last, and tucked the letter back beneath his shirt, a feeling of weight lifting from his chest.

“Is this all that was troubling you?” Nan asked, perceptively.  He looked away for a moment.

“You know you can tell me anything.”, she prodded, gently.  He sighed rather heavily.

“It’s my family - that’s all.”

“That seems to me to be quite a large worry to deal with.  Do you mean all of them?”

“Well, my brothers and sister mainly, I suppose. They treat me like an infant!  Or an imbecile, but neither is pleasant.”  She gave him a sympathetic nod. 

“I am certain that they do not mean to be cruel”, she replied, soothingly, “perhaps you need to tell them how you are feeling?” Cedric laughed derivesly.

“Come now, Cedric!” she chided, gently, “they can not be such monsters.”

“You’ve never met them!” he retorted jokingly.  “All right”, he relented, “I suppose you’re right, but if talking doesn’t work then I think I should pour buckets of water in their beds one night.”

“What ever you think best, Cedric.”, she conceded, wisely.  He paused for a moment, as if considering his next words carefully.

“Nan?”  He waited for her response to go on.  “Why do we always have to meet like this?”

“What do you mean?” she asked, kindly.

“Well, I mean, just randomly - out and about, in the gardens, in the kitchens?”

She looked at him intently for a moment.  “Am I not here when you need to see me?”  Though ostensibly calm, Cedric could detect an inner desperation of kinds inside her and so quickly allayed her fears, “No, not at all! In fact, you always seem to be around when I need you, but - don’t you want to meet my family at all?”

“From the way you talk about them, I feel like I already know them.”, she answered, lightly.

“Oh they’re not as bad as I make out, if that’s what is discouraging you.”, he assured her.  She laughed, “No, I don’t suppose that they are.  Oh Cedric, you know I care for you very much and I am sure, if I ever met them, that I would care for your family too, but I’ve told you before that it is not possible.”

“But why?” he persisted.  She gave an almost imperceptible sigh.

“Family difficulties.”, was all she said by way of answer. Cedric could see that this was making her feel uneasy and he didn’t want to drive her away.  He smoothly tried to draw her off the topic.  “Families are funny things, aren’t they?  I thought I knew mine and then today I learn that I have an uncle I never even knew existed!”

Nan looked up, almost sharply from the flower she was studying.  Cedric was momentarily afraid that he had offended her, but her expression and demeanour relaxed immediately.  “Tell me about him.”, she said.  He shrugged.  “I don’t think there’s much to tell - at least I don’t know much about him.  Father says that he’s been out of the country my whole life - in France or something.  I’m sure we’ll find out when he arrives.”

“He’s coming to Covington Cross, then?” she asked with polite interest.

“Apparently so.  An old relation of ours died, and uncle Charles is due for the inheritance.”

“When do you expect him?”

“Father says a few weeks.” Nan got smoothly to her feet. “Wait!” Cedric protested, “where are you going? Can’t you stay a bit longer today?”  She shook her head, kindly.  “I’m afraid not, Cedric but I will be back, I promise and you must be sure to tell me how Lily received your poem.”

“I will”, Cedric assured her, hastily, following her to the edge of the orchard and the beginning of the forest edge.  “And remember, Cedric”, she said as she reached the edge of the forest and turned back to look at him, “speak of our meetings to no one - not even your family. I know this seems strange to you, but you must trust me that this is something which cannot be spoken of - not yet.  Do I have your word?”

“Yes, of course - you know you do, but you’re right - I don't understand this.”

“You will in time,” she called as she disappeared into the growth of the forest.  For a moment Cedric was tempted to follow her and see where she went, but he had long ago promised never to do that, and he considered himself a man of his word.

 

 

Three weeks passed at Covington Cross without incident.  The siblings continued to jibe one another, the estate ran smoothly, Cedric’s relationship with Lily ran its natural course and ended as swiftly as it began and Sir Thomas spent his spare hours preparing for the arrival of Charles Grey.  His room was constantly kept up by the house-keeping staff on the off-chance of a sudden entry into England, despite the assurances that Sir Thomas was getting from his scouting agents, that Charles was steadily making his way home and they would inform Thomas of every update on his brother’s activities.

 

Finally, a messenger came riding swiftly to the castle to inform everyone of the arrival of Charles Grey within the hour.  Sir Thomas erupted into a flurry of action.  The cooks were instructed to prepare a hearty meal, the maids to double check the guestroom and messengers were sent to retrieve William and Richard from the fields.  Thomas removed a much delighted Cedric from his Latin lesson and charged him with the task of locating and returning Eleanor from her hunting expedition.  An hour flew by like no time at all.

 

Sir Thomas once again resumed pacing the Great Hall.  “Thomas will you please be calm?” Lady Elizabeth pleaded, placing a gentle, restraining hand on his arm as he crossed her path. He stopped abruptly, as if suddenly realising his agitated behaviour. He sighed, “Oh, I am sorry Elizabeth.  It’s just that we didn’t part on the best of terms as you know.  What if he doesn’t want to mend the past? What if he’s here for the inheritance and nothing else?  I don’t think I could stand another rift between us.”

“Thomas, you have nothing to worry about”, she said, coaxingly.  “If I remember Charles rightly, then he was too full of the spirit of life to let anything weigh him down long.”

Thomas looked at her pointedly, “It’s been fifteen years, Elizabeth - that seem long enough to me.”

“But not too long to break a blood tie - you’ll see.  It will be all right.”  Finally, he seemed to relax for a moment. “Thank-you Elizabeth.  I cannot tell you how glad I am that you were here today when the message arrived.  I can just imagine Charles coming home to find me a nervous wreck on the floor!”

“More’s the pity, brother - you know how I find these fan-fares and banquets such a bore, but then you never did have a flare for the dramatic entertainment.”  Thomas spun around at the sound of the almost long-forgotten voice.  A man, in his early fifties, stood in the entrance -way to the Hall, watching the scene before him with some amusement.  His slightly unkempt black hair was protruding from beneath his travelling hat, his full beard streaked with silver-grey.  He would not immediately have been taken for a brother of Sir Thomas’, despite they being the same build and height but there was something about him - some essence of life, which marked him out to be a member of the Grey clan.

 

“Charles!” Thomas exclaimed, softly, a smile spreading over his face as he moved forward to greet his brother.  “My God!  It is you - it’s really you. I almost cannot believe it.”  Charles chuckled quietly, holding his hand for Thomas to take. “Yes, Thomas, it is I - in the flesh.  And it has been too long.”

“Indeed it has”, Thomas agreed, gravely, shaking Charles’ hand in earnest, “and we have much to discuss.”

“So we have, brother - but later, hmm?  First, I wish to reacquaint myself with your family and with Covington Cross.” 

“Of course!” Sir Thomas agreed, releasing Charles with one last pat on the back.  “My family should be with us at any moment.  Come, take a seat at the table - you must be weary after all that travelling.” He led Charles to the table and pulled out a chair for him to sit down.

“If you insist, Thomas, but I should point out that I spent this travelling sitting in a carriage, not hiking up the mountains.”

“Naturally,” Thomas amended, “but it does not hurt to be hospitable - my goodness I have been so rude!” he exclaimed, suddenly, seeing Lady Elizabeth patiently waiting by the table, an amused expression on her face.  Charles rose immediately and crossed to greet Elizabeth. “No need for introduction, Thomas.  I can clearly surmise that you must be Lady Elizabeth.  I fail to see how Thomas has once again attracted such a marvel as this kind lady.”  She smiled and offered him her hand, which he duly kissed lightly.  “The pleasure is mine, Charles, I can assure you.”, she replied graciously.  “I must confess, however that I was not sure if you would remember me.”

“How could one forget you?  And now, Thomas - what of your merry brood?  I remember them too, you know.”

“Of course, of course. They are certainly around the castle somewhere.  Richard and William have just returned from the fields and Cedric and Eleanor should be on their way back as well.”

“And what of Armus?”  Charles asked.  At the mention of his eldest son’s name, Sir Thomas’ face fell, his brow furrowed.  “Armus is away fighting for the King in the crusades.  We pray always for his safety and his swift return.”  Charles’ jovial expression at once became serious, “As will I, brother - you may count on that.  I only wish that I could have offered you more support when he first went away.”  They had time to exchange a brief smile before the door burst open and Richard and William hurried into the room.

 

“Is he here yet?” Richard asked as he entered.

“Well what does it look like, Richard?” William replied, sarcastically.

“My, Thomas, they haven’t changed a bit.” Charles remarked, dryly, a twinkle in his eye.

“Richard, William - I want you to come over here and meet your uncle Charles.” Thomas said, beckoning them over excitedly.  They approached quickly.  “It’s good to meet you”, William said.

“How was your journey?” Richard asked, shaking the hand he was offered.

“My journey was fine - thank-you for asking, my boy.  So you two are Richard and William?  Will it cause you great offence to tell you that the last time I saw you, you were both near knee-high, if that?”  Richard and William exchanged amused and embarrassed glances.

“Er, normally, ‘yes’ but I suppose we can let you have that one.” Richard said, merrily.

“Richard!” their father remonstrated, lightly.

“Oh not at all, Thomas.” Charles exclaimed, “it’s good to see you’ve raised two honest and forthright boys.” Thomas muttered a remark which could have been to the affirmative or not, but William and Richard just grinned guilessley.  They were beginning to like Charles Grey.

“So, what have you been doing for fifteen years, Uncle Charles?” Richard asked, curiously.

“Expanding my business mainly.  I concentrate my efforts mainly in the cloth market though my other industries such as sheep rearing and farming are also doing well.  I hear you boys were in the fields when I arrived.  I take you both more for knights than shepherds.”

“Oh, well that’s William’s idea mainly.” Richard put in. “He likes to involve himself in the labourers’ trade and I supervise him mostly.”  William shot his brother a very sour look.  “Well that’s good.” Charles said, mildly.  “Idle hands, eh Thomas?”

“Quite.”, their father agreed, casting Richard a warning look as he did so.

 

“I found her, father and you wouldn’t believe where she was!”  Cedric called as he stumbled into the Great Hall, laughing heavily as Eleanor raced in hot on his heals.  “You liar!” she challenged, also out of breath and giggling.  “I was hunting a stag - don’t let him tell you otherwise!”  A throat cleared in front of them.  They stopped abruptly, mid-way through a pretend wrestling match, and looked up at the group assembled before them.

 

Richard and William were unsuccessfully covering a smirk and their father stood there watching them expectantly, arms folded across his chest.  However, their focus came to rest on the gentleman standing to the left of their father.  He was looking at them intently, his expression unreadable, but with a glimmer in his eyes.  Hastily, they got up from the floor and hurried over to the assembled group.  Thomas did not appear too impressed and they both had the feeling that they would hear more on that particular topic later. 

“Charles”, Thomas began, moving forward to take Eleanor’s hand, “you remember my daughter, Eleanor.”  He gave a glance over her hunting trousers, shirt and leather jerkin, finally resting on the crossbow and dagger which hung by her side.  He cast a look at Cedric who had the good sense to appear a little guilty, as Thomas said through clenched teeth.  “Cedric, I thought you were going to ask your sister to change before you came to greet us?”

“Ah, yes - I was, wasn’t I?  Well, you see we were going to go upstairs and change in just a moment, but we had kind of lost track of time.”, he admitted, glancing down at the ground.

“We’re sorry father.”  Eleanor added, “we didn’t know Uncle Charles was here yet.”  However, Charles cut off anything Thomas might have said in reply.  He stepped forward and gently took Eleanor’s hand, his expression one of tenderness and wonder.  “So here you are, Eleanor,” he said, almost to himself.  “You were but a babe when I saw you last, and my, you have turned out most wonderfully.” She blushed slightly at his remarks.  “You’re very kind.  I did mean to change though - this is just my...well my casual clothes.”, she explained, awkwardly.  Normally she cared nothing for what others thought of her masculine past-times, but for some reason, she felt the need live up to whatever image he might have built up of her over the years.

“There’s no need to explain, Eleanor.  I had a suspicion from the moment you rejected the dolls your relatives tried to give to you, that you would grow up with your brothers, not apart from them.  And”, he added, “that you would in turn, grow to excel at many of your pursuits.  May I take it from that fine cross-bow at your hip, that you are a keen huntress?”

“I have a stag already delivered to the kitchens this very day!” she said, proudly. 

“Then I shall never have tasted a meal so fine, I am sure.”, he assured her, smiling broadly.

“And this”, Thomas said, moving on to his youngest son, “is my youngest child, Cedric. I don’t believe you have ever met him before.”  Cedric felt decidedly uncomfortable at that moment, especially now that he was the last one and all eyes were rested upon him.  Charles appeared to be scrutinising him carefully, more so than he had done for any of the others and Cedric could not quite understand why.  “Ah, yes”, Charles replied, softly, more to Thomas than Cedric, “our little Cedric. I have often wondered about him.” Then he turned his comments to Cedric himself. “I regret that you are the only one of your siblings whom I did not hold as an infant nor watch you grow.  However! I am not here to embarrass you with tales of the past. Instead let us concentrate on the present and the future as I am certain to know all of you better in due course!”  Cedric smiled graciously along with his uncle and the rest of his family, although inside he was still bridling over being referred to as ‘our little Cedric’. 

“And is Cedric a knight, like his brothers?”  Charles asked Thomas.

“No”, Thomas replied, “Cedric is studying to be a cleric.  It was Anne’s last wish that he join the Church.”

“Really?  Then perhaps he will be the intellect of the family, as his brothers are the strength?”

“Yes, very intellectual.” Thomas agreed, chuckling.

“Quite so”, Cedric agreed lightly, a tight smile plastered on his face, “So educated I can read, write and even talk for myself in conversations.”  Charles’ smile faded from his face ever so slightly. “Uh, of course Cedric - my apologies.”  Cedric gave a small smile back in acceptance,  unsure of how to react to an apology from his elders.  Swiftly, Thomas broke the uneasy tension in the room.  “Well, everyone! I am certain that supper must nearly be ready.  Why do we all not sit down and have some wine in the mean time?”  Glad of the change of direction, everyone quickly took their seats around the table as the servants moved from the back of the room, to fetch the wine.  When Charles was out of earshot, Thomas took Cedric aside for the talk the young man knew was coming.  “Cedric, I expect you to keep a civil tongue in your head whilst your uncle is here. Is that understood?”

“But father, he was treating me like I wasn’t even there.”, he protested, quietly.

“He simply did not know how to act around you - he certainly meant no offence.  Now I trust I can expect no more rudeness from you?”  It was more a statement than a question, and Cedric wisely decided to treat it as such.  “Yes father.”

“Good then.  Let’s rejoin the others.”  They both moved to their seats at the table as the servants hurried back in with the wine jars.

 

Supper was a quiet and pleasant affair.  Obviously there were still questions on everybody’s minds that were left unanswered but the topics of conversation were never strained or contrived.  William discussed the politics of the realm, Richard spun marvellous tales of his knightly deeds, which Eleanor proceeded to disrepute, and Cedric decided that despite his earlier first impression, his Uncle Charles was actually quite likeable.

 

It was late in the day before the meal was finally over and the discussions had begun to die down.  The sun had set hours ago and fatigue had washed over the table’s occupants. 

“Come Charles. I have had the servants take your belongings up to your room. I will show you the way there - you look exhausted.”  Thomas stood and stretched the knots out of his back and neck.  Charles followed suit, as the children continued to hotly debate amongst themselves, not paying the adults any heed. 

“Charles, I shall say goodnight as well, though it was lovely meeting you again.  Thomas, your hospitality has been most gracious, as always.”  Elizabeth smiled and rose from the table, Thomas moving to escort her to the door. 

“Elizabeth, must you go now?” Thomas asked. 

“Yes, I’m afraid so.  As we have already said, it is late and I must ride back tonight.”  There was a noticeable silence between them, which Charles was not oblivious to.

“Elizabeth”, he said, taking her other hand, “it has been my honour to be reacquainted with you.  I hope I shall be seeing you again soon?”

“You may depend on it, Charles.  Good night.”  Thomas and Charles both walked Lady Elizabeth to her carriage, where her driver was waiting.

 

“Will you let it go, Eleanor?” Cedric groaned, his head cradled on his arms, “you and William are equal at riding!”

“That’s not what he says!” she protested, “Father will support me, won’t you -”  She looked up at the head of the table where her father and uncle had been sitting.  “Oh”, she said in surprise - “they’re gone.  Must be seeing the wench off.  Pity.”, she said, sweetly.

Richard sighed, “Father is going to skin you alive one of these days if he hears you calling her that.”

“Humph!  If Cedric can get away with his jibe to Uncle Charles today, then I should be given freedom to say what I like about ‘Lady of the Night’ Elizabeth - after all, I have much more cause to do so then Cedric had with Charles.”

“So what do you think of Uncle Charles?” William cut in, anxious to change the topic.

“He seems like a good man.” Richard commented.

“Hmm, I like him.” Eleanor agreed.  “He said he would help me to master jousting while he was here.”

“Yes”, Cedric added, “and he told me he would teach me sword-work when he had the time.”

“He was humouring you, little brother - no one has time enough to teach you fighting skills.” Richard replied. 

“They’d be harder pushed to teach you manners, Richard.” Eleanor teased.

 

At that moment, Thomas and Charles re-entered the room.  “Are you four still arguing?” Thomas asked in exasperation.  They all stopped their conversation and looked to the newcomers.  “Not at all, father”, Eleanor replied, “just straightening out a few truths.”

“Really? Well how is this for an indisputable truth?  It is time for bed - all of you.”  He was met with the chorus of groans he had expected.  He turned to Charles.  “You see what mutiny I am faced with on a daily basis, brother?”

“I do, Thomas, and with only the lovely Lady Elizabeth to offer you support!” he teased, implicitly.  They both missed Eleanor’s scowl.  Thomas laughed good-naturedly at his brother’s jest.  “At least you and I agree that she <is> lovely! That is more than we ever agreed on as children.”

“Ah, do you fear I have intentions for your lady friends again, Thomas?” he asked, a wicked glint in his eye.

“Not at all, Charles, “ Thomas replied smoothly, “As I recall you always had more intentions for my lady friend’s younger sisters than for themselves.  I imagine Anne was most offended that Mary received all of your attention!”

 

“What? So now I have an Aunt Mary that I knew nothing about as well!” Cedric exclaimed in exasperation.  An uncomfortable silence shuffled into the room as Thomas and Charles gave each other an awkward glance, long-buried memories, clearly surfacing again.  The children did not believe that they had seen Charles look quite so sombre as he did at that moment.  Quickly Thomas cleared his throat and moved the conversation in a different direction.

“Come now - I said retire and I meant it.  Busy day on the morrow.”  Hastily, they all rose and, excusing themselves, left the room.

 

Once they were safely upstairs, Eleanor turned to her brothers.  “So what was all that about?”

“I believe it was Cedric displaying his usual level of tact and diplomacy!” said William, sarcastically.  Eleanor groaned. “Oh, I haven’t the energy to start another argument now.  I’m going to bed.”  With that, she wandered off to her own room.

“I’m going too.” Richard said, yawning.

“Wait!” Cedric protested, “I want to know what happened down there? You two must know something!”

“Why should we know?” William asked, somewhat indignantly.

“Because you always claim to know everything!” Cedric challenged back.  William and Richard exchanged a long glance, obviously deciding whether or not to say anything.  Finally William said.  “If we tell you what we know, you have to promise to employ a little more intelligence in revealing it when-ever and to whom-ever you chose.”

“Agreed!” Cedric assured them quickly.

“Well, it’s not absolute fact, but Richard and I have done some investigating into the time when Uncle Charles was last at Covington Cross.”

“Talked to old servants - the usual thing.” Richard put in.

“Yes.  Anyway, from what we can gather, Mother had a younger sister named Mary.  This sister had a romance of sorts with Uncle Charles, only I think he was more infatuated with her. Anyway, it didn’t work out because one night Mary eloped.”

“Seriously?” Cedric asked in amazement.

“Yes. She left secretly, hurting all the family she left behind, especially Uncle Charles.”

“Is that why he left?” Cedric asked curiously.

“Well, I’m not sure for certain,” William continued, “but when Mary left, she disgraced the family.  Most of them disowned her then and there - never even tried to contact her again.”

“Even father and mother?” Cedric asked in amazement.  Richard and William nodded, wordlessly.  “Mother didn’t want to, of course but she didn’t want to go against Father. And Father...well, you know how he can get about right and wrong, law and justice and so on.”

“Well she was in the wrong.” Richard pointed out.

“Of course”, William agreed, “But Uncle Charles didn’t see it that way. He hated the family for the way they’d treated Mary.  Rallied to have her brought back and into the protection of the Greys again.  When Father wouldn’t help him, he left England shortly afterwards.  It was most likely in connection with the rift between them.”

Cedric took all this in, thoughtfully.  There was so much about his family that he didn’t know. 

“Don’t think too much about it now, Cedric,” Richard advised, “No doubt Father will speak to you about your latest brilliant outburst, tomorrow - you can ask him for all the details then.  Now, if you will both excuse me, I am going to bed.”  Cedric sighed, and decided to follow his brother’s example lest he should add failing to follow his father’s instructions to the many other items on the list of faults against him.

 

Charles Grey slept for the majority of the following morning, during which Cedric received his second warning about choosing his words carefully, in as many days.  That done however, life returned to normal at Covington Cross.  Well, not quite normal:  Charles proved to be a very entertaining guest for all.  True to his word, Eleanor began her very first jousting lessons later in the week and discovered that she had a natural talent for it.  Charles refused her request to allow her to pit herself against Richard and William, not entirely trusting the motivations on either side.  Cedric also began instruction for swordplay, though Thomas was quick to point out that it was for recreational purposes only.  Any delusions of Knighthood (though not so cruelly worded) were to be banished from thought.  Charles was a good teacher and a good encourager when it counted.  Thomas and Charles also spent much time alone together, working hard to rebuild whatever was previously lost in their relationship.  One day, three weeks after Charles’ arrival, Elizabeth entered the study in time to see Charles and Thomas exchange a warm, brotherly embrace.  She left as silently and as unnoticed as she had entered and missed the conversation, which ensued.  “Let us never part on such ugly terms again, Charles”, Thomas entreated earnestly.  “Quite so, brother”, Charles agreed, “you have my word on it.  We were all different people then, and I see now that it is wrong for the past to chain us any longer.”  And so all was mended.

 

A few days later, Charles found himself wandering the main courtyard of his former home of many years ago.  Hearing voices in the outer yard, he ambled over to investigate, suspecting that it sounded like his rambunctious nephews and niece, though which of the boys it was, he couldn’t be too sure.  On arrival he was met with the sight of Richard earnestly giving personal pointers to Cedric and Eleanor on their jousting techniques.  He watched the exchange with interest, impressed with Richard’s care of his younger siblings, which occasionally showed itself.  “That’s right, Eleanor, keep your arm up. That’s it!  Well done.”

“Can I try again, Richard?”  Cedric asked, keenly.  Richard eyed him suspiciously whilst still trying to simultaneously watch over Eleanor who was happily trotting her horse round for another round.  “I don’t know, Cedric”, he said, cautiously.  “Do you promise not to lunge at me again?”  “I didn’t mean to the first time!”, Cedric protested sheepishly.  “ I just got turned around a little.”  Richard raised an eyebrow at the relative understatement his little brother had just uttered, but said nothing for a moment.  Finally he sighed and relented.  “All right, Cedric.  But you have to promise to be careful and for God’s Sake, whatever you do, don’t injure yourself or father will string me up!  Just remember you’re banned from ever learning jousting after that fiasco with Betty the cow, last year.”  “That wasn’t my fault”, Cedric mumbled to himself but his expression soon turned brighter as it dawned on him that he was about to get another turn.  “All right, Eleanor - that’s much improved but come down now and let Cedric try again.”  Richard called.  Eleanor slowed her horse and looked round at her brothers in dismay.  “But I’m in the mood for it now!  And I wanted to show Uncle how much I’d improved before our next lesson.”  “That’s all well and good, Sister, but it’s time for Cedric to try his hand again, and let’s face it, he needs a good deal more practice than you!”  Cedric didn’t bother to take any insult at the jibe.  He was too excited at getting another stab at it (poor choice of words, though they were) and besides, it was perfectly true - he was hopeless at it.  “Oh come on Richard! He’ll never improve in the few hours we have left before supper.”, she insisted.  “I’ll have you know, that you are talking to the master trainer, here.  What I can’t teach, can’t be learnt!” Richard returned. 

“William swears he’s better than you.” Eleanor pointed out.

“A likely lie - I taught him myself.”

“He says Father taught him.”

“Another lie.”, he insisted , firmly.

“On the very day Father took him to see the King whilst you were home in bed with a cold.” Cedric piped up, adding his penny’s worth.

“And yet still more!” Richard exclaimed, shaking his head in shock at his brother’s audacity.

“Seriously, Richard - just a while yet, please.”  Eleanor begged.

“I think I may have a solution to your problems, children”, came a deep voice from behind them.  They all turned (Eleanor rather awkwardly in her saddle) to see Charles watching them, hands on hips. “Uncle Charles!”  Richard remarked in surprise.  “I didn’t hear you approach.”

“I’m not surprised, given that you were intent on a hot debate at the time. You must always keep aware, Richard - a lesson you should be teaching to the other two”, he remonstrated, lightly.  Richard felt his cheeks flush at the slight correction and strove to conceal his embarrassment.  “Richard’s been teaching us very well”, Eleanor pointed out, usually delighted to see her older brother taken down a peg or two, but in this instance, unexpectedly dismayed at her uncle’s remark. “Yes”. Cedric added.  “It’s remarkable. Every now and then, we discover a use for him.”  “Thank-you, little brother”, Richard answered a little snidely. “I’m sure you do, at that”, their uncle agreed.  “But for now I have a way to alleviate your problem.  I propose that I take Cedric to continue with his sword-work, allowing Eleanor to continue her jousting under Richard’s expert tutelage.”  Eleanor all but beamed at the suggestion though Cedric seemed somewhat downcast at proposal.  “What a truly wonderful idea, Uncle Charles. How clever of you!” she remarked, cheerily. “I thought you might approve”, Charles remarked, knowingly.  “But Uncle,” Cedric protested, “I’m sure I can get the hang of it if I’m just given the chance! It’s not fair that I only have one try.”

“Life is not about fairness!” Charles corrected, sharply, slightly shocking the three of them.  Then he continued more gently.  “We must all learn to persevere with things in life, Cedric - even if we find them unpleasant.  It is the measure of a true man.  In any rate, I am sure I heard Richard remark that you were banned from jousting and I will not have your father’s wishes flaunted.” He finished, firmly, in a tone that broached no argument.  Cedric and Richard had the sense to appear abashed at this statement, and glanced down at the ground, momentarily.  When they dared glance up again, they saw that their uncle’s stern expression had been replaced by a benign smile which they couldn’t help but return - partly in relief that they were safe from their father’s wrath for another day. 

“Come then, Cedric”, his uncle said, kindly.  “I believe I have a sword here that you can use.” 

 

With that, he led the quieted Cedric through to the main courtyard.  After locating a sword for Cedric to use, they commenced their lesson with a little more vigour than Cedric felt up to using. “Keep up, boy!  Mind your feet!  Remember to block and guard, Cedric - what’s the matter with you?!”  Charles kept up this barrage of remarks until Cedric’s arms had begun to ache and his co-ordination had almost abandoned him completely, causing him to stumble over his own feet whilst attempting to circle his uncle.  Finally, with a great sigh of frustration, his uncle called a halt to their practice as the exhausted (and much relieved) Cedric, leant against a wall to catch his breath.  “What was all that about, Cedric?” Charles demanded.  Cedric glanced up at him, ashamedly.  “I don’t know, Uncle.  I tried my best but I kept wearing down.”  “Well you would not have been so tired if you had cut out all of that ridiculous thrusting and extravagant movements!” Charles declared in annoyance.  He could not tolerate a poor performance from a pupil who knew better, especially one whom he had taught himself.  “Look at your sword!” he continued, gesturing to where a good deal of the edge of Cedric’s sword had been badly blunted during the fight.  Cedric guiltily examined the blunted edge in question, wishing like anything that he could disappear into the ground rather than face this humiliation.  He would even have preferred his scripture lessons at that time.  He cursed himself, inwardly: he had wanted to please his uncle, very much.  The man was the only person at Covington Cross who actually took his training seriously and Cedric had been determined not to let him down.  “Well?  What on Earth came over you today?” his uncle insisted, pulling Cedric’s thoughts back to the situation at hand. His stomach was rolling over inside and he knew his cheeks were flaming.  Still, he mumbled a reply - the truthful answer to the best of his knowledge. “Well, Richard was teaching me how to fight offensively. He said that it was common to try to fool your opponents with moves you don't intend to make...” he trailed off, awkwardly.  He glanced up at Charles and was dismayed to see anger building in his black eyes.  “You take the advice of a child who has never seen battle?!” he demanded, enraged. “You take that advice over mine?  What, pray tell, have I been doing teaching you all these weeks?  Have I been wasting my time? Clearly I have if you dismiss my words so easily!  I try to train you to be the best, Cedric, but maybe your father was right: go back to your books!”  Cedric cried out in dismay: “No, Uncle - please! I do listen to what you say and I CAN train to be a knight!  The moves were working earlier when Richard showed them to me, it’s just that you - “ he stopped himself before he could say any more, but not in time enough to evade his uncle’s returning question.  “I what, Cedric?”  The young man swallowed before mumbling: “Well, it’s just that you were attacking a little harder than Richard was.” Try a lot harder than Richard was, he wanted to add, but dared not. “And you expect your enemies to be so lenient on you when you go to battle, hmm?  You expect the French to act with courtesy and chivalry?” Charles demanded, forcing Cedric’s chin up to make the boy look at him.  Cedric met him squarely in the eyes, determined not to appear a coward.

 

A boot scuffed the hard ground behind them.  Charles released Cedric and turned to see the source of the interruption. When he had moved aside, Cedric almost groaned to see who it was standing there, looking rather upset if truth be told, and more than a little curious.  Richard had begun to hear the commotion from the outer yard and when he realised that the voices were not kind or constructive, but rather angry and bitter he had immediately left Eleanor to her manoeuvres and gone to investigate.  The sight of his uncle, heatedly berating Cedric (for what, he was not quite sure), was not a pleasing one to Richard who felt he alone was permitted to make Cedric feel uncomfortable.  He was determined not to go in there on the offensive and to control his temper until he had learned what was going on (a very difficult thing for him to do, in any event).  After all, it was quite possible that his little brother deserved the lecture and this was his father’s brother, after all - not a stranger. 

 

Charles’ anger did not seem to dissolve with the arrival of Richard, instead it seemed to change focus slightly. “What’s going on, Uncle?” Richard asked, as mildly as possible.  Cedric cut in as hastily as he could, hoping that Richard would accept his explanation and go away. Quickly, before their uncle decided to turn his anger on Richard as well.  “I wasn’t performing as well as I should have been in my sword-play.”, he explained, silently begging Richard to leave it at that.  Naturally, things could never have been that easy. Richard bristled at the treatment of his baby brother.  “Cedric was doing very well this morning”, he insisted, just a touch of hardness in his voice.  “I’ve been helping him myself and I thought he was making good progress.”  Of all the wrong things, at the wrong times to say, Richard had them both mastered.  “If he progressed at all, it was into a spectacle at a fair-ground!” Charles, barked, turning to face Richard, squarely.  “You had no business to interfere, boy!”

“And you have no business chiding him like that!” Richard spat back, his temper fully riled, now. “Please, Richard!” Cedric pleaded, “it really doesn’t matter now.  Please just leave it. Uncle”, he said, turning to address Charles, “Richard was only trying to be kind, not to replace what you were teaching me.  Please can we forget this?”  Richard knew when Cedric would really prefer to have the subject drop and so reluctantly, he complied.  Charles, too calmed down and began to back off from the tension.  “Very well, Cedric.  Richard, I trust we may also put this matter to rest?  Your intentions were well-meant, as I assure you, were mine.” Richard nodded slightly and smiled as sincerely as he could. “Of course.  I  ...apologise, Uncle.”, he managed to get out.  Cedric shot him an appreciative look, which he didn’t miss.

 

“Right then!” Charles began again, his mood now abruptly lighter, “you must replace that sword, Cedric and now that you are rested, we will resume our lesson.”  “Yes, Uncle”, he agreed hastily, glad that they were all on friendly terms again.  “You can borrow one of mine, Cedric”, Richard offered.  Charles smiled slightly.  “That is very generous, but I feel that for the time being, Cedric should not perhaps use a sword of particularly....” he trailed off, not wanting to appear tactless. Finally he came up with “of particularly great value.  I am sure there are some older varieties about the castle?”  He looked at Cedric’s crestfallen expression. “Now Cedric, Richard will tell you that we all have used older swords for training at one time in our lives.  Besides, I want you to practice with the heavier weapons - it will be good practice for your balance and stamina.”  Cedric saw that Richard was genuinely agreeing with his uncle and so brightened up a little.  “Good!” his uncle said, approvingly.  “Now where might these be around the castle?” He looked to Cedric expectantly, who was beginning to look rather uncomfortable again.  He muttered something so quietly that Charles was forced to exclaim: “Speak up, boy! I can barely hear you.”  Cedric repeated himself, a little louder this time.  “There’s some which the guards keep in the dungeons.”  “Splendid!  Go down and fetch one and return to me immediately.  We have an hour till supper and I am sure to make you the finest swordsman in the kingdom before that time.”  Cedric shot an apprehensive glance towards the low windows in the castle wall, which gave what little illumination could be offered on the dark passages down to the castle’s dungeons.  Still, he remained where he was, nervously rocking from ball to heel and back again.  Richard understood immediately.

“Cedric doesn’t like the dungeons”, he explained, quietly to Charles, “he never has.  I’ll go.”

“Nonsense”, Charles said, holding a hand out in front of Richard to stop his exit.  “Fears are meant to be overcome and we cannot have a man who would be a knight, hindered by such childhood fears, can we?”  Cedric was not sure if it was meant to be a rhetorical question or not, but past experience had taught him that it was always wise to assume the latter.  “No, Uncle”, he agreed, quietly. “Right then.  You will please go down and fetch up a sword so that we may begin again.  I do believe we have already been delayed a deal already.”  And whose fault was THAT? Richard thought, irritably.  Still, Charles was beaming at Cedric’s response, and despite his misgivings about dank and horrible dungeons, Cedric could not help but feel pleased and proud at the reaction he had elicited from his uncle.  “Good man!  We’ll make a knight out of you yet!  Chain you to those books, indeed - we’ll have that father of yours seeing sense in no time!”  Cedric smiled shyly in response to the praise and then headed off to the stone stairs that would lead him down into the setting of many a personal nightmare.

 

Continue to Part 2