Buku The Colour of Poison by Toni Mount
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The Colour of Poison by Toni Mount

Author:Toni Mount [Mount, Toni]

Language: eng

Format: epub, mobi

Publisher: MadeGlobal Publishing

Published: 2016-02-16T08:00:00+00:00

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The Colour of Poison by Toni Mount

The Hart’s Horn Tavern

Goodwife Fletcher stepped back to survey her handiwork. ‘There, Master Seb, I’ve done my best for you, but you’ll need to see a surgeon about that eye, I think.’

‘I’m grateful to you, mistress,’ I said quietly, leaning back against the warm chimney wall in the kitchen of the Hart’s Horn.

 

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The Colour of Poison by Toni Mount

Author:Toni Mount [Mount, Toni] , Date: June 12, 2019

,Views: 53

Author:Toni Mount [Mount, Toni]

Language: eng

Format: epub, mobi

Publisher: MadeGlobal Publishing

Published: 2016-02-16T08:00:00+00:00
The Hart’s Horn Tavern

Goodwife Fletcher stepped back to survey her handiwork. ‘There, Master Seb, I’ve done my best for you, but you’ll need to see a surgeon about that eye, I think.’

‘I’m grateful to you, mistress,’ I said quietly, leaning back against the warm chimney wall in the kitchen of the Hart’s Horn.

‘She’s right, Seb. It’s a nasty gash you have there. It’ll probably need a few stitches,’ Sir Rob said, handing me a wet cloth to wipe away a renewed trickle of blood. ‘Does this sort of thing happen to you often?’

‘No. I tend to avoid folk who don’t know me too well and, if that’s not possible, Jude’s always there to look out for me. No one crosses him, if they know what’s good for them.’

Jack nodded agreement. I held the cool, damp cloth to my eye. It was swelling rapidly, so I could barely squint between the lids. My hands still shook. Carefully, I touched my jaw, my cheek. My face must be a mass of bruises, my hands cut and my ribs hurt from yet another pounding. Maybe bones were broken this time but, for the moment, I was too weary to do anything but rest where I was.

‘You ought to be abed,’ I heard Sir Rob say.

The bed upstairs at the Hart’s Horn was warm and comfortable. The surgeon, Master Dagville – I had been sufficiently aware to insist I didn’t want the services of Gilbert Eastleigh – had attended me, stitched the gash above my left eyebrow and another on my right arm, smeared an evil-smelling ointment on my face and ribs to bring out the bruises and administered a potion of willow bark so bitter it made me shudder. And he had charged six pence for the tortures inflicted.

I must have slept fitfully for a while, I had no idea how long. It was dark in the room with the window shutters closed, so it could be day or night. I seemed to be alone, for I sensed no one else with me, only the sounds of the busy tavern downstairs and the smell of food cooking in the kitchen below. I lay, dozing for a while until raised voices broke in on my half-conscious mind.

‘You can’t tell him now. He’s in no fit state,’ I heard Goodwife Fletcher say.

‘He must be questioned,’ said an angry male voice I didn’t recognise.

‘You go in that room, you’ll answer to the duke for the consequences.’ Sir Robert sounded threatening.

‘He don’t know nuffin anyhow!’ Jack shouted. ‘How can he? He’s been abed since dinnertime.’

There was no doubt they were talking about me. Questioned about what, I wondered, but I must have drifted off to sleep again.

‘I don’t believe you! It can’t be true.’

Sir Rob sat on the bed, looking at me with a sorrowful expression.

‘I’m sorry, Seb, but it is. Jude has escaped from the Bailey. He’s on the run. He took advantage of the commotion when everyone had their attention on the riot around you and gave his gaolers the slip.

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