by K. M. Grant
Inside the hall the air was pungent with spices, wood-smoke, and wet dog. Trestles had been laid across the width of the room, steaming wine jugs and great trenchers of bread were stacked on top of them. Men were drinking freely and watching the cooks and pantry boys bringing in custards and tarts. The actual marriage ceremony would take only a few moments, and they were very glad. The dinner was what they had really come for, and their mouths were already beginning to water.
Gavin was standing by the huge hearth, surrounded by his favorite wolfhounds, his empty sleeve tucked into his belt. Marissa and Marie had not decorated the dogs’ collars. Instead, Marie was helping the servants, and Marissa was sitting, swinging her legs and tossing her hair. Ellie knew from the tilt of Gavin’s dark head and from Marissa’s high-pitched laughter that he was indulging her, and she felt two small pangs, one of pride that this handsome man was to be her husband and one of jealousy that he was paying attention to another girl. She hurried forward.
Actually, Gavin was less interested in Marissa than in catching the words of an old man, Sir Percy Manderlay, who had been one of his father’s greatest friends, as he waited impatiently for Ellie to appear. He nodded at the men and women still arriving through the solid double doors at the far end of the hall, banging the snow off their boots and throwing their swords into a great pile in the corner, but his eyes were only for his bride. When Ellie approached, although his expression hardly changed, his heart jumped. She looked so poised. He stood back as Sir Percy kissed the girl warmly on both cheeks and scarcely noticed when Marissa, her lip curled, slipped away.
“My dear, you are freezing!” Sir Percy exclaimed, drawing Ellie toward the fire. “What has that old nurse been doing to you? Feeding you ice?”
“I went outside for a moment, Sir Percy,” Ellie explained. “Do you like my necklace? Gavin gave it to me.”
Sir Percy squinted at Ellie’s neck. “Very pretty, indeed,” he said. “Suits you, that jasper. Now, where’s young William? He cut it pretty fine, but he’s here now and that’s what matters.”
“Are you talking about me?” Will was suddenly beside them, brimming with robust good health, his brown hair tousled and damp from the journey. “Well, Ellie, you do look something. Did you see Hosanna’s mane? Hal spent hours doing it.”
Ellie beamed, but Will backed away. He was speaking quite fast, and although he grasped Gavin’s arm, he did not look his brother directly in the eye. “Congratulations on your wedding day, Gavin.”
“I’m very glad to see you, Will,” Gavin replied.
“Sorry to be so late,” Will rushed on. “The roads are awful, and we could only travel slowly. The snow is really bad farther to the west. Hope we haven’t kept you waiting.”
Ellie opened her mouth, but was given no chance to speak. “I have brought you a present.” Will was like a torrent in full flood. “It’s nothing, really. Hope you like it, though.”
With that he thrust a small parcel wrapped in silk into Ellie’s hands and vanished into the crowd, where she could hear him laughing very loudly at somebody’s joke. She looked at the parcel. Gavin was watching.
“Open it,” he said. Ellie obeyed. Inside she found a small ruby horse’s head set into a gold bar on which a craftsman had inscribed one word: HOSANNA. “Oh! How beautiful,” she whispered.
Gavin took the brooch. “What is that word?” His lips tightened because he had to ask. Neither he nor Will had ever learned to read.
“It says ‘Hosanna,’” said Ellie. “Look, here is the H—”
“This is not a schoolroom, Ellie,” Gavin said shortly.
Ellie looked mortified. “Of course not.”
“Here.” Gavin was quickly ashamed of his ill humor. “You should wear the brooch today. Let’s fasten it to your bodice.” Ellie moved closer to him. He fumbled with the clasp, and she helped him. They managed between them, and Gavin let his hand drop back to his side.
“Ellie—,” he began to say. But she interrupted him.
“I still prefer this.” She put her hand into the folds of her dress and brought out a small, rather battered-looking wooden dog. Some of the tension eased from Gavin’s face. When Ellie was small, he had given her the dog, and since then it had been something of a talisman between them, marking the various phases when they had been either childhood friends or enemies.
He took the dog briefly, then handed it back. “I can still remember that day by the moat with—What was the dog’s name?”
“Diligent.”
“That’s it. Diligent. I still don’t know what got into me, having this carved.”
They were both silent.
“It all seems ages ago, Ellie. Another life. A different life.”
“Yes,” she agreed, touching her green jasper necklace. “But now we have our life together. It is what your father wanted.”
“But is it what you want?” Gavin’s eyes grew troubled. “My arm will not grow again, you know. There will be no miracle.”
“Gavin,” Ellie said, looking straight at him. “In the three weeks since you have been back, have I given you any reason to doubt that I want to marry you?”
“No—but three weeks is hardly a lifetime.” He paused. “I know how fond you are of Will …” His voice trailed away.
“Of course I am fond of Will,” said Ellie gently. “I am very fond of Will. But in as much as I want to marry anybody, I want to marry you. Please, Gavin. Please try to believe me.”
He inclined his head, but did not seem convinced. Without thinking, Ellie put up her hand, wanting to touch his cheek, but he turned away at just the wrong moment and Ellie was left feeling foolish. Catching her gesture in the corner of his eye, Gavin immediately turned back, but it was too late. Ruefully he raised his eyebrows, and his expression was so comical that Ellie felt a sudden uprush of hope. Everything would be all right.
“Shall we do the deed?” Gavin asked more easily. His eyes were still anxious, but his voice was now half mocking, half serious, just as Ellie loved.
“Better not keep the guests waiting for dinner,” she replied. He took her arm and helped her through the throng and up onto the dais, to be greeted by Brother Ranulf, who was to bless them.
He squeezed her hand, then took a deep breath. “My friends,” he shouted. “My friends.” Nobody took any notice.
He turned to Ellie. “Shout, ‘DINNER!’” she suggested. Gavin raised his eyebrows again, but in the end, to Gavin’s minor discomfort, it was Will who called the gathering to order.
“Fellow knights, pray silence for the Count of Hartslove,” he demanded in the new deep voice he had developed in the years he had been away on crusade. There was silence at once. Will now had the authority of a knight twice his age.
“My friends,” Gavin said, nodding to his brother, but not smiling. “You are invited to feast here today to mark the wedding of Eleanor Theodora de Barre to me, made Lord de Granville, Count of Hartslove, by King Richard, and master here since the death of my father. We were betrothed long before my father, my brother, and some of you good people, as well as I myself, left to follow King Richard to Jerusalem. Many did not return. My father was one of those. We do not forget him. But today is a day for rejoicing. Eleanor and I will make our promises, then Brother Ranulf will bless our union. After that we will feast. You remember the custom here at Hartslove of leaving my late mother’s chair empty? Well, we are not going to do away with that. Both my father’s and my mother’s chairs will sit up here. I have had new chairs made for my wife”—Ellie blushed prettily as rowdy cheers broke out at the back—“and me. Now, if we are all ready?”
Nobody spoke, so Gavin took Ellie’s hand again and they turned to face each other. Old Nurse sniffed loudly.
Gavin began. “I solemnly declare,” he said, “that I wish to take you—”
As he spoke, there was a slight commotion. Gavin took no notice at first, only raised his voice slightly. “I wish to take you, Eleanor Theodora de Barre, as my—”
> Now the noise was louder. Gavin repeated, “I wish to take you—” but then had no choice but to stop. He looked apologetically at Ellie and frowned into the body of the hall, his mouth already open to demand a bit of hush.
However, the noise was not coming from the guests. Somebody was attempting to force open the double doors from the outside.
“What the devil?” At that moment about forty knights, heavily armed, broke through and strode in with their swords drawn. The dogs growled, but although their hackles rose, they hesitated.
“Who on earth are you?” Gavin demanded as he moved quickly in front of Ellie.
The leading knight pulled off his helmet and shouted at the dogs by name, his grating voice and darting eyes daring them to attack him. The dogs slunk back, perplexed.
Gavin stepped forward. He could hear Ellie breathing hard behind him as they both recognized the intruder. “Constable de Scabious,” Gavin said with no hint of welcome. “I am surprised you show your face here. As someone who betrayed our father’s trust in spectacular fashion while we were away, you should know better. Since we have returned, we have heard nothing but ill of you. Unless you come in peace, the king will hear of this, and he will not be pleased.” Gavin’s eyes, now cool and unflinching, held the constable’s for a moment.
Piers de Scabious hesitated, then flourished his sword. At once, the Hartslove knights rushed for the corner where their own weapons were piled, but their way was blocked. In the hubbub de Scabious smiled, displaying much of his breakfast between his teeth.
“You can forget your swords!” he shouted at the wedding guests, thrusting his head back and forth like a startled turkey, a characteristic that had given Will and Ellie ample scope for mimicry when they were small and the constable ran the castle for Sir Thomas. “And you, Master Gavin, can forget your fine words.” De Scabious could hardly contain himself. “The king will, indeed, hear of this. You see, the king is no longer your Richard. Richard is dead. All loyal men now pay homage to John, and as one of those loyal men, I have been charged with giving you these glad tidings. Long live the king!”
There was silence as de Scabious’s words sank in, then wild murmurings as men turned to each other with stricken faces. Some knelt and crossed themselves.
“The king is dead!”
“King Richard is dead!”
Gavin banged a tankard hard on the table. The murmuring subsided. “King Richard dead? How do you know this?”
De Scabious bent his head to one side, tipping his mouth into an oily, lopsided grin. “The news from abroad is that he died before the New Year in custody of Duke Leopold of Austria. We have it on good authority. Nobody doubts that it is true. Now the important thing is that we have a new king, King John, the last surviving true son of the late King Henry II of blessed memory. And everybody who is not with him, Master Gavin, is against him.”
“How can John be the new king?” Gavin demanded. “We all know that Richard named his nephew Arthur as his heir.”
“John has a better claim.” The constable was supremely smug as he repeated what he had been told by John himself. “Arthur is a child and, besides, has never even been to England. Are you going to disagree?”
Gavin was silent, but Will spoke up. “Yes,” he said loudly. “I disagree. We have known since we got back from Palestine that Richard is in prison, but if we are to believe he is dead, we need proof.”
“You can believe it or not,” replied the constable, trying to keep his voice from squeaking against Will’s bass. “It’s all the same. But I tell you this—that we are living in John’s world now, not Richard’s.” He turned back to Gavin and puffed out his chest. “And on a different but related subject, I must thank you, Master Gavin, for getting such a perfect bride ready for me.”
Gavin’s face was ashen. De Scabious pointed his sword toward the dais. “Miss Eleanor,” he declared, trying to turn his smile from oily to charming. “I have come for you. King John has given me permission to make you Lady de Scabious as soon as matters can be arranged. You are to be my wife, it seems.”
“Get out,” Gavin hissed.
De Scabious wagged his finger and smirked. “You really can be very rude, Master Gavin. Certainly I will get out when I have got what I came for. Come along, Eleanor. It’s very exciting that King John himself wants to come to our wedding.”
Ellie looked straight back at him, not concealing her revulsion and contempt. “I will not consent,” she said in a clear voice. “And we are not living in the Dark Ages anymore, Constable de Scabious. King or no king, women must consent to marriage these days.”
The constable laughed and clambered clumsily onto the dais. “Oh,” he said, and his face was so close that Ellie could feel the rankness of his breath, “I think when you see what John has in store for your precious de Granvilles if you don’t consent, you will not keep me waiting long.”
Don’t miss the stunning conclusion to the de Granville Trilogy,
Blaze of Silver
The Old Man of the Mountain, the head of the Assassins, never forgets. When news comes to him that Kamil is at Hartslove, he feels that it is time to take revenge.
Will, Ellie, and Kamil are preparing to take a ransom to Germany for the release of King Richard the Lionheart, and they are looking forward to the King’s return to England. As they get ready to leave, a visitor appears bearing a gift of a silver mare to go with Hosanna, and they welcome him to Hartslove and invite him on their trek.
But as they journey to Germany, the visitor deceives Kamil into leading Will and Ellie into a trap. Somehow, Kamil must save them and redeem himself—the Old Man must not win. But even when Kamil makes a heroic effort, it becomes clear that the tentacles of treachery stretch far deeper than anybody imagined. For Will and Ellie, the Old Man’s revenge turns into a struggle to reveal a truth that nobody wants to hear.
Praise for Blood Red Horse
A Booksense 76 Top Ten Pick
A Booklist Top Ten in Youth First Novels
H “This is a gripping coming of age story that is fast paced
and exhilarating, you are there with Ellie, Will, Gavin and especially
the horse, Hosanna. … This Crusade has something for every
reader: adventure, romance, history, love, and loss.”
—Library Media Connection, starred review
“A rewarding adventure, one not soon forgotten
and one that lends itself to great discussion.”
—School Library Journal
“In a very tricky combination, Grant blends historical fiction with a
horse story, makes it work and makes us want a promised sequel.”
—Chicago Tribune
“It all plays like a sprawling Hollywood epic … the whirlwind
pacing and involving adventure will keep readers turning pages.”
—The Bulletin of the Center for Children’s Books
“A true-blue winner … It is a heart-warming story that grabs you
right from the first page. It has well-defined characters,
crisp dialogue, and plenty of action.”
—Super Summer Reader
“This superbly written historical novel provides an excellent
springboard for discussion about cultural and religious differences
and the realities of war. Readers will discover along with Will that
honor and disgrace marked both sides of this religious conflict
where no clear-cut right existed. The message is timely,
eloquently put, and poignant. Do not miss this one.”
—Voice of Youth Advocates
“A coming-of-age book in ancient mythic tradition …
a ripping yarn of old.”
—Guardian
Copyright © 2004 by K. M. Grant
All rights reserved. You may not copy, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (including without limitat
ion electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, printing, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages
First published in the United States of America in 2005 by
Walker Publishing Company, Inc.
First paperback edition published in 2006
Distributed to the trade by Holtzbrinck Publishers
Electronic edition published in June 2012
www.bloomsburykids.com
Originally published in the U.K. in 2004 by the Penguin Group, Puffin Books
For information about permission to reproduce selections from this book, write to Permissions, Walker & Company, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, New York 10010
The Library of Congress has cataloged the hardcover edition as follows:
Grant, K. M.
Blood red horse / K. M. Grant
277p. : map: 21 cm.
Originally published in the United Kingdom in 2004 by Puffin Books.
Summary: A special horse named Hosanna changes the lives of two
English brothers and those around them as they fight with King Richard I
against Saladin’s armies during the Third Crusades.
1. Crusades—Third, 1189-1192—Juvenile fiction. [1. Crusades—Third, 1189-1192—Fiction.
2. Horses—Fiction. 3. Brothers—Fiction. 4. Knights and knighthood—Fiction. 5. Middle Ages—Fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.G7667755Blo 2005 [Fic]—dc22 2005042280
ISBN 978-0-80273-451-8 (e-book)