Honor in the Dust (23 page)

Stuart remembered his words again now.
“It's like keeping score at a joust.”
Then he looked down to the field where the king's opponent now lay. Two men ran out to help him rise. “I wonder why the king would risk his life.”

“I don't.”

“I wish you'd tell me. I can see that it would be important to fight in a battle, where you could win something, but nobody wins anything at these competitions.”

“Why, man, don't you understand? These jousts, they're for Henry's childhood dreams of knighthood. He grew up reading all the stories. It got into his blood, and he's determined to be a noble knight.”

“Do you think he'll survive?”

“It's very hard to be noble in this day and age.”

The two men went over to the king when he dismounted, and Vining said, “Well done, Your Majesty. Well done indeed.”

“I've done better. What about you? Would you like to try a little jousting, Vining?”

“If you please, Your Majesty.”

“No, I think I've had enough.” Henry was wearing enough armor to buy a small kingdom. He glittered in the sun, and when he removed his helmet, his red hair caught the glow. “Now, what about a go at the birds, Winslow?”

“Yes, sire. I think you'll be pleased.” Next to jousting and perhaps dancing, the king loved to fly his falcons best. It was for this reason that Stuart had become such a favorite. Now the king pulled Stuart after him. “Come along. I'll get rid of this armor, and we'll see what mood our birds are in.”

“Yes, sire, it will be a pleasure.”

An hour later the two men were examining the raptors. The king selected a falcon named Hook and asked, “What do you think of him, Winslow?”

“A fine bird, Your Majesty. Worthy of a king.”

Henry reached up and ruffled the hawk's feathers and laughed when the bird uttered a harsh cry. “Well, let's try him out.” He leaned toward Stuart. “I saw you conversing with Mistress Fenton last week at the masque.”

Stuart felt his face flush. “Yes, sire, I was there.”

“Did she deny you?”

“Indeed, sire, she did.”

“You take these things too seriously, Stuart. I know you think you're in love with Nell, but you're at court! It will happen to you a dozen times. She's your first. Let her go, and you'll see I'm right.”

Indeed, it has happened to you a dozen times!
The king laughed, as if he could read Stuart's thoughts. “Come along, then. And by the way, you've worked very hard lately. Take a holiday. Go see your parents. It may help your spirits.”

“You mean it, sire?”

“Of course. Go tomorrow. Tell the horsemaster I said you could take Tyrone.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty. It would be good to see my family again.”

“A man should honor his parents, my friend, always remember that.”

Even as Stuart dismounted in front of his parents' house, his mother came out the door. She flew to him, and he caught her up and swung her around.

She cried, “Well, don't crush me, Son!” But she was laughing.

Putting her down, he said, “You're looking very fine. Far too lovely to be my mother. But where's that little brother of mine? That's who I really came to see.”

“He's somewhere near,” his mother returned. “Somewhere very near,” she added, cocking a playful eyebrow.

Stuart looked down. There Quentin was, peeking around her skirts. He dodged back behind her as soon as they made eye contact.

“Come here, little brother. Let's see what you look like.” Slowly the boy edged out, biting his finger. Stuart smiled. “You look pure Winslow.”

“It's odd, isn't it,” she asked, looping her arm through his, “that in some families, all the members look alike. In others, they look as though they were found under a bush. No resemblance at all.”

“Well, it's a good thing the Winslow men are fine-looking, isn't it, Mother?” He kissed her on the cheek and repeated, “You're looking very well indeed.”

“And so are you, Son.”

“Where's Father?”

“Oh, he's out on some errand for Lord Edmund. I'm sure you're hungry. Come along. I'll make you a meal.”

The meal turned out to be full scale with hot mutton and fresh bread.

Stuart plied his mother with questions about the life at Stoneybrook and finally he asked, “What about Father and Lord Edmund?”

Grace dropped her head for a moment. “Lord Edmund will never forgive either of us. We keep praying, but it never changes.”

“I'm sorry to hear that. Does he still overwork Father?”

“Well, not so much as he once did. Your grandmother sees to that.” She laughed suddenly, and her eyes danced. “Every time Edmund tries to do something unthinkable to your father, she just mentions that perhaps she had better leave the land and this house to him. That quiets Edmund down very quickly. He's actually a very selfish man, but then he always has been.”

“What about Lady Edith?”

“She still spends money as if it were dirt. Wears a dress once and then gives it away. She drives Edmund almost crazy, and I can see why.”

Half an hour later Claiborn came in. “Well, you're here, my boy.”

Stuart rose at once, moving Quentin to his hip. “Hello, Father,” he said. “You're looking well.”

“Well enough for an old man.”

The two men sat down to catch up. From time to time Grace would leave to take care of some household chore.

Stuart said, “Mother is really happy, isn't she?”

“Yes, she is, and so am I. That brother of yours has brought joy into our life. It's just like when you came to us. We were so happy then.”

“What do you think he'll be when he grows up, Father?”

“He'll be a good man. That's what he'll be. A man of God.”

As always, Stuart felt awkward when his father or mother mentioned God to him. He knew they were disappointed that he had not found the Lord and that he was living what they considered an immoral life at court. He changed the subject by saying, “Well, I don't know what kind of a world he will face.”

“It'll be the same world as this one.” Claiborn smiled gently, “Full of sin but also full of God. That's the way it has always been, and that's the way it always will be.”

Heather's eyes opened wide. “Stuart!” There was welcome in her voice and in her expression. “Come in. I didn't know you were home.”

“A surprise visit. Are you busy?”

“Never too busy for you.”

“You're looking absolutely fetching, Heather Evans.” He took in her blond hair and her deep-blue eyes and noticed with surprise that she was a young woman now. He had always thought of her as somewhere between childhood and womanhood. Now he said, “You're growing up.”

“That happens, Stuart. Are you disappointed?”

“Oh, no.”

“What's wrong?”

“You sound like one of the ladies at court. They go around trying to get men to tell them how beautiful they are and how wonderful.”

“And do you tell them?”

“Not very often.”

The two sat there talking for a time, and he finally said, “One of these days you're going to be sought by young men.”

“Why, I already am.”

“Oh? Is that Howard still coming around?”

“No. He wasn't right for me.”

Stuart had always enjoyed teasing Heather. “Well, I'll tell you
what,” he said, putting on a sober expression. “I'm going to insist on meeting these other young suitors.”

“Why would you want to do that?”

“I want to be sure their intentions are honorable and that they show my dear sister the proper respect.”

“Stuart, we've discussed this. I'm not your sister, and I don't need your protection.”

“Well, you know how young men are with young girls.”

“No, why don't you tell me?” She leaned forward, resting her pert chin in her womanly hands.

Stuart laughed. “So you've already learned some of the ways of a maid with a man. Look at you!”

She leaned back and blushed, as if embarrassed that he'd caught her out.

“Heather, you'll soon be the most beautiful woman in England. You need not cultivate any womanly wiles to draw men to you.”

“Now, Stuart, let's have none of that court talk.”

“You're right. That's all I hear. Nobody ever means anything they say. So I might sound as if I'm lying, but I'm not. You are beautiful.”

She looked at him with a pained expression. “I wish you'd leave there.”

“I can't.”

“Why? You're not in love with one of those women, are you?”

“No, of course not.”

Heather stared at him. “You spoke much too quickly, and I suspect you are not telling the entire truth.”

“Well, there's nothing that is ultimately truthful about anything at court.”

The two sat on, debating whether Stuart should leave the court or not, until an hour later when William Tyndale came in. He was delighted to see Stuart.

“Tell me about the court.”

“You don't want to hear about that, not really.”

“No, I don't. I was just being polite.”

“What about your translations?”

“It's going to get him into trouble. That's what's going to happen,” Heather said.

“Why, the king would never permit that.”

“You don't know the king if you think that, Stuart,” Tyndale said. “If he decides that there will be no Bibles in English, he'll burn people at the stake in order to stop it.”

“No, he would never do that.”

Tyndale shook his head sadly. “I can tell you've changed, my boy, but I'm praying that one day God will use you in a mighty way.”

His words made Stuart uncomfortable, for he loved Tyndale. As he left the next day to go back to the court, he thought about what the man had said. “I don't know how God could use a fellow like me,” he muttered. Because never had he felt more distant from God than he did now.

Vining sat beside Stuart on a bench outside the court kitchens. They had scrounged up a baked chicken and were now picking the carcass clean. Vining smacked his lips. “Delicious,” he said. But his eyes were no longer on the chicken bones, but rather on a courtier passing by. He had loved women, many women, although he was married and had two children.

“I have never met your wife and children,” Stuart said, setting down his chicken bone. “Where do you keep them?”

“Oh, I never let them come to court.”

“Why not?”

“Because my wife is too plain. The king doesn't like plain people. He likes good-looking chaps like us and even bonnier women.”

“You shouldn't speak of your wife that way.”

“What way?” Vining's eyebrows shot up in surprise. “What did I say?”

“You said she was plain.”

“Well, she is plain. She's always been plain. But she had a lot of money. From her first marriage. Her husband had the good grace to die and leave all his wealth to Millie. So she was glad enough to get a handsome fellow like me with a title. It works
well for both of us. I share her money, and she has something good to look at now.”