“In the past he would not have chosen to go anywhere with his brother, but he was making a concerted effort to bridge the chasm between them. They might never want to dwell in each other's bosoms, but setting aside the petty quarrels of childhood and wiping the slate seemed a sensible and mature thing to do. If Henry had been able to make peace with Stephen, then Brunin reasoned that he and Ralf could at least come to an understanding. Early morning mist wreathed between the trees. At their back...s, Whittington was a castle besieged in the ghostly vapour rising from the marshy ground surrounding its walls. The bridles jingled and the horses' hoofbeats thudded on the woodland path, the sound made dull and solid by a carpet of early fallen leaves, moist and mulched from recent rain. Both youths carried bows, and wore hunting knives at their belts. Their cloaks were short in the manner that King Henry had made fashionable, and they were wearing tough calfhide boots. Ralf eyed Jester with disapproval.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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