B00B9BL6TI EBOK (9 page)

Once she had finished, she sat back to hear his news. After all this time, hearing finally of the presence of a relief column not ten miles away made her almost weak at the knees. Thank the Lord. She should have known that the regent wouldn’t let such an important stronghold fall to the invaders and traitors. They would band together and drive the French out of the city for good.

But how was this to be achieved? She nodded to de Serland to join the discussion. As he entered into debate with John Marshal about the possibility or advisability of admitting more men through the postern in order to strengthen the garrison, she looked with some interest at the other man, Marshal’s companion, who had not yet spoken a word. He was a nondescript kind of fellow – except for the reddish hair, she supposed, which wasn’t overly common in these parts – the sort at whom she would normally barely glance. He sat on a stool in the shadows at the edge of the room, some way behind Marshal. She gazed more closely. Who was he? Not a soldier – he didn’t have that aura about him – but not an idle cleric either, for he didn’t have that soft look that one associated with men of inaction.

As if realising that he was being scrutinised, he looked up and his eyes met hers. She was surprised that he didn’t immediately look away; instead he seemed to be studying her as closely as she was watching him. Insolent fellow! Although he didn’t appear to mean any disrespect, he was merely watching her out of a genuine interest. She dragged her gaze away from him and concentrated on the discussion before her.

John Marshal was speaking. ‘I don’t like it.’

‘I’m aware that it’s far from perfect, my lord, but realistically I can’t see any other way to proceed.’

Marshal made an impatient gesture. ‘But the postern will only admit one or two men at a time. If we were to introduce as many men as we would need to make a difference, it would take us half a day at least. The French will realise what we’re up to long before that, and will be able to pick us off at our leisure while we queue to be admitted. It’s folly.’

Dame Nicola silently agreed, but she couldn’t see any other way forward. The walls were about to come down and if that happened they would be overrun. The only way was to take the fight out of the castle and into the streets of the city or the open ground outside it. And the only way to do that would be to sally forth from the main gate and attack the enemy in greater numbers than they were expecting. Was there another tactic? A two-pronged attack perhaps, with some men issuing from the castle and others striking from outside?

John Marshal was a step ahead of her, already mentioning the possibility and then discounting it. ‘It would split our forces too weakly and besides, they could bring their damned mangonels to bear on us as soon as we got within range to the south. No,’ he sighed, ‘there seems to be no other way than to use the postern.’

She hesitated to mention it, but times were desperate. She looked at de Serland. ‘It’s possible that there may be enough organised resistance in the town to help.’

Now Marshal looked more interested. She ran through the facts as she knew them: some sort of resistance had been organised in the city; a man of the garrison had somehow managed to contact his brother outside, and the brother had told him that he would bring more details the following night, but he had been killed before he could do so.

Marshal interrupted. ‘Killed? You know this? He didn’t just fail to turn up?’

She exchanged glances with de Serland, who answered for her, dryly. ‘His head was catapulted over the wall the next day.’

A slight retching noise came from the man behind her, but she didn’t turn. She continued. ‘So, yes, we’re fairly sure he was dead.’

There was silence as the jest fell as flat as it deserved. She hastened to continue. ‘So all we know is what the fellow told his brother. He’ll be able to tell you better than I.’ She opened the door and spoke to the guard without. ‘Have Stephen fetched here.’ He nodded and hurried away.

Back in the room the air was thick and two of the ever-present flies buzzed around their heads. She offered Marshal wine and at his nod poured him a very small cup, for their stocks were low. She didn’t offer him food, for there was none to spare, and he’d probably eaten more recently than they had anyway.

Eventually the guard ushered Stephen into the room. He clutched his hat in his hands, turning and twisting it, as they all looked at him.

‘Well? Tell us of your brother, Alan.’ She gestured at John Marshal. ‘Tell him.’

The man’s face became even more ashen. ‘He didn’t tell me much, my Lady, only that something was afoot in the city which was of importance, which would help. He had been told to go that night to the house of William the nephew of Warner, the mayor, and to knock in a particular fashion so they knew it was him. Then he would discover more, and he would come to tell me.’ The tortured twisting of the hat intensified. 'I never saw him again – not until …’

He looked as though he would break down, which would not do, so she dismissed him with a wave of her hand, bidding him wait until she called him again, and he fled.

John Marshal turned immediately to the other man.

‘Good. This is how we’ll proceed, then: I’ll go back to my lord regent now, telling him that we can wait three days at the most. We’ll make ready to bring men forward in order to push them one by one through the postern. They’ll be here a couple of hours after sunrise the day after tomorrow. In the meantime, you’ll go into the town and see what you can discover of this resistance. You’ll report back here before dawn in two days, and if you’ve found anything of use you’ll come back out as quickly as you can and let us know. I’ll leave some men to cover your retreat in case the French see you.’

No wonder he was such a useful man for the regent to have around, thought Dame Nicola. No delays, no qualms. All that pent-up energy. If she were thirty years younger …

The other man was nodding and rising, still without speaking, but he hesitated and turned to Marshal. ‘If I may, my lord?’ He received a nod of permission, and moved forward to murmur something that Dame Nicola didn’t quite catch.

Marshal nodded once. ‘A good thought. I’ll see what I can do. Now, I bid you Godspeed, and hope we will meet again in the next two days.’

With that he was already striding out of the room. Dame Nicola followed to bid him farewell at the postern. Her curiosity was piqued. ‘Who is he?’

Marshal paused in his advance. ‘A spy, a man of Warenne’s.’

Now she was taken aback. ‘Warenne? Surrey? Has he re-joined us? I didn’t know he would be with the host.’

He made a derisive noise. ‘He isn’t. He tried to join but others were wary. This is his way of attempting to curry favour with the lord regent. Apparently this man is one of the best, so if he can help us, Warenne will be welcomed back to the fold.’

She spoke sombrely. ‘A heavy burden for the man to carry.’

Marshal nodded as a soldier began unbarring the postern. ‘Aye. And we will see what results from it.’ He moved out of the gate. ‘Until two days hence, then.’ He slipped into the darkness as the gate closed behind him.

Up in the council chamber Edwin’s heart seemed to be running all over his body, and he looked uncertainly at the knight who remained with him. He didn’t know what to say and wasn’t sure he’d be able to get any words out anyway, but the knight assumed control and spoke briskly.

‘Now, we must see about the best way of getting you into the city. Come.’

He led Edwin out of the room and across the ward, calling as he did so for a man to bring rope. Edwin was so frightened he barely heard anything, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other without stumbling, but he was brought up short by that one word. Rope?

They ascended the wall at one edge of the ward, and once at the top the knight spoke again. ‘There’s not much time, but I’ll give you as many details as I can. We can’t let you out of the main gate, for the French are directly in front of it and you’ll be seen for certain. This is the north-east tower of the castle – see how it’s shaped like a horse-shoe, and remember it. Look down to both sides to see where you are.’

Edwin complied as the knight pointed to the left. ‘Over there, the north wall. The alley down there should be fairly safe once you’re in it. The French don’t patrol there as it’s too close to our walls, and nobody can come from the other side as the great west gate is blocked.’ He moved around to Edwin’s other side and pointed to the right. ‘Over there, the east side of the castle. You’ll see that they’ve razed the houses over there to create an open space. I’m sure they mean to besiege us from that quarter as well once they get the chance, but at the moment they can’t, as their forces would be stretched too thinly. They patrol the area occasionally. If you can avoid them you should be able to get across to the remaining houses and that will give you cover.’

Edwin nodded, trying desperately to take in all the information without showing his fear.

The knight continued. ‘You’ll need to get to the house of William the nephew of Warner, the mayor, who lives in the shadow of the church of All Saints on Church Lane, north of the minster. Here’s Stephen to tell you how to knock.’

As he was speaking the man who had been in the chamber earlier arrived with a length of rope. Edwin belatedly realised how he was going to get into the city and his heart quailed, his hands shaking as he tied it around his waist. The last man who had tried to act as a go-between for the castle and the city had ended up dead, his head hacked off and shot over the wall … he hoped he wasn’t about to be sick.

He realised that the man was speaking to him. ‘All I can tell you is what my brother said, God rest him. When you knock at the door, do it three times quickly, then wait, then three times again, and then wait, and then twice. Hopefully they will know it and let you in.’

The jagged thought of what might happen if they didn’t let him in stabbed into Edwin’s mind, but it had no chance to pierce deeply because the knight was speaking again.

‘We’ll keep watch for you here. Listen for the bells of the cathedral, which are still chiming at Matins and Lauds each night, thank the Lord. Tomorrow night and the night after as the bells chime we’ll lower the rope and wait long enough to say three paternosters. After that we’ll haul it back up, so you’ll only have those four chances. Do you understand?’

Edwin nodded, preparing to swing out over the parapet as the men took the strain on the rope. The knight gripped his shoulder and wished him good luck. He straddled the wall with one leg, swung the other over and leaned precariously outwards. He held his breath as he was lowered over the parapet. Suddenly the ground seemed much further away than it had done before, dizzyingly distant. If the rope were to break he would plummet down to shatter his body on the ground below … don’t think of that! He struggled to regain his composure as he swung slowly down. He was going to need his wits about him if he was to survive the night. Keep calm. Breathe slowly.

After what seemed like hours his feet finally touched solid earth. He fumbled at the knots around him, forcing his trembling fingers to work them loose. Eventually he was free, and he looked up to the top of the wall in the darkness. He could just make out the shape of the knight’s head as he peered over the edge. A low voice floated down to him. ‘Remember, tomorrow night and the night after, as the bells strike. Godspeed …’

And then he was alone.

To start with, Edwin could do nothing but hover in the alley, pressing himself back against the comforting presence of the wall, but he knew that he would have to leave it. He strained his eyes out into the moonlit night to try and see across the blank space he would have to cross. Once past that he would be able to hide himself in the streets, or in the rubble of the destroyed houses. But first, he would have to cross the open space. Was there any other way around it? He thought not. There was nothing else for it. Better to get it over as quickly as possible. Taking a deep breath, he waited for another cloud to cross the moon and then pushed himself off from the wall and ran as fast as he could out into the open.