Yves jumped from his steed’s back.
And the boy’s palfry stumbled.
Gaston yelped in terror as the palfry struggled furiously to regain its lost footing. Before Gabrielle could summon another word, Yves strode into the rushing water. The palfry nickered in fear and the boy screamed.
Then a curtain of water obliterated all from view.
Chapter Six
G abrielle was almost afraid to look at the result.
But there was naught to fear. A displeased-looking Yves stood thigh deep in midstream. He held his abashed and sodden squire by the scruff of his tabard and gave the boy a hearty shake even as Gabrielle watched. A shower of river water was loosed by Yves’ shaking and scattered about the pair like falling crystals.
To Gabrielle’s relief, the palfry had regained her footing only eight feet downstream, though she looked shaken and wet, as well. She had retreated of her own accord to the riverbank and stood shivering in the wake of her fright.
“How many times have I told you to look before you leap?” Yves growled.
Gaston clearly bore the full brunt of his attention now, and Gabrielle did not envy the boy, even though he was unharmed. Even Leon’s squire squirmed in sympathy on the far bank, for the knight’s brow was dark with disapproval.
Yves shook Gaston again, releasing another torrent of water from the boy’s tabard. At least, Gabrielle reasoned, the boy’s clothing had had a good rinse. She barely managed to restrain her smile at that, for it was clear Gaston was not one who showed much concern over such matters.
And the boy was in dire trouble with his knight.
“The most witless fool could see that this stream would be beyond difficult to cross,” Yves growled, “yet you plunge forward as though you would trod a garden path!”
The boy’s head hung even lower. “I am sorry, my lord.”
His contrition lasted but a moment though, before his head snapped up and eyes shone brightly. “But I thought of great knights dashing through rapids and storming to battle, like Percival rushing to the keep of the Fisher King, determined to find the Holy Grail…”
“You did not think at all,” Yves retorted. “And therein lies the problem. If you have no care for your own well-being, then at the very least, you should spare some consideration for your steed.”
The boy looked to the palfry, whose accusing glare and periodic shivers might have prompted guilt in the most recalcitrant soul. The squire’s lip trembled and he looked as though he might cry. “I am sorry, my lord.”
The knight’s voice lowered. “Gaston, mere words will not make compensation if you lose a steed through foolhardiness.”
It seemed Gaston had nothing to say to that.
Yves strode to the shore, set the boy down and surveyed him sternly. Gaston shuffled his feet and took great interest in the state of his toes until Yves sighed and shoved one hand through his hair. He squatted down so that the boy could not avoid meeting his eyes.
“Gaston, I beg you to begin using what is between your ears for more than the recollection of fanciful tales.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“And on this eve, you will see that palfry thoroughly dried before you tend to your own needs.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Gaston sneezed then with a startling vehemence. He shivered, then turned obediently to collect his beast, his chin nearly dragging on the ground. It was clear to Gabrielle thatGaston held Yves as his hero and anything that knight said to him was taken directly to heart.
Yves shook his head, then strode back to his own mount. Leon and his squire crossed the stream in silence. Even knowing the rebuke she was likely to earn, for the knight’s lips were still drawn in a tight line, Gabrielle felt obliged to intervene.
“The boy will catch his chill if he does not abandon that wet garb in short order,” she counseled in an undertone.
Yves did not look at her, but his brows tightened and she knew he attended her words.
Gabrielle braced herself for
And the boy’s palfry stumbled.
Gaston yelped in terror as the palfry struggled furiously to regain its lost footing. Before Gabrielle could summon another word, Yves strode into the rushing water. The palfry nickered in fear and the boy screamed.
Then a curtain of water obliterated all from view.
Chapter Six
G abrielle was almost afraid to look at the result.
But there was naught to fear. A displeased-looking Yves stood thigh deep in midstream. He held his abashed and sodden squire by the scruff of his tabard and gave the boy a hearty shake even as Gabrielle watched. A shower of river water was loosed by Yves’ shaking and scattered about the pair like falling crystals.
To Gabrielle’s relief, the palfry had regained her footing only eight feet downstream, though she looked shaken and wet, as well. She had retreated of her own accord to the riverbank and stood shivering in the wake of her fright.
“How many times have I told you to look before you leap?” Yves growled.
Gaston clearly bore the full brunt of his attention now, and Gabrielle did not envy the boy, even though he was unharmed. Even Leon’s squire squirmed in sympathy on the far bank, for the knight’s brow was dark with disapproval.
Yves shook Gaston again, releasing another torrent of water from the boy’s tabard. At least, Gabrielle reasoned, the boy’s clothing had had a good rinse. She barely managed to restrain her smile at that, for it was clear Gaston was not one who showed much concern over such matters.
And the boy was in dire trouble with his knight.
“The most witless fool could see that this stream would be beyond difficult to cross,” Yves growled, “yet you plunge forward as though you would trod a garden path!”
The boy’s head hung even lower. “I am sorry, my lord.”
His contrition lasted but a moment though, before his head snapped up and eyes shone brightly. “But I thought of great knights dashing through rapids and storming to battle, like Percival rushing to the keep of the Fisher King, determined to find the Holy Grail…”
“You did not think at all,” Yves retorted. “And therein lies the problem. If you have no care for your own well-being, then at the very least, you should spare some consideration for your steed.”
The boy looked to the palfry, whose accusing glare and periodic shivers might have prompted guilt in the most recalcitrant soul. The squire’s lip trembled and he looked as though he might cry. “I am sorry, my lord.”
The knight’s voice lowered. “Gaston, mere words will not make compensation if you lose a steed through foolhardiness.”
It seemed Gaston had nothing to say to that.
Yves strode to the shore, set the boy down and surveyed him sternly. Gaston shuffled his feet and took great interest in the state of his toes until Yves sighed and shoved one hand through his hair. He squatted down so that the boy could not avoid meeting his eyes.
“Gaston, I beg you to begin using what is between your ears for more than the recollection of fanciful tales.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“And on this eve, you will see that palfry thoroughly dried before you tend to your own needs.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Gaston sneezed then with a startling vehemence. He shivered, then turned obediently to collect his beast, his chin nearly dragging on the ground. It was clear to Gabrielle thatGaston held Yves as his hero and anything that knight said to him was taken directly to heart.
Yves shook his head, then strode back to his own mount. Leon and his squire crossed the stream in silence. Even knowing the rebuke she was likely to earn, for the knight’s lips were still drawn in a tight line, Gabrielle felt obliged to intervene.
“The boy will catch his chill if he does not abandon that wet garb in short order,” she counseled in an undertone.
Yves did not look at her, but his brows tightened and she knew he attended her words.
Gabrielle braced herself for
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