Gifts of the Queen (10 page)

Walter noticed their manner, too. He tried to hurry, me along, although it was difficult to walk faster through the piles of dirt. But presently, rounding another bend, we caught a glimpse of the main square and some of our guard, pacing to and fro. We were not far from them, perhaps two hundred yards or less, and the closeness of those familiar figures made us feel more at ease. So, when I stopped in a patch of sun to buy a cup of ale from an old woman selling it, Walter let me drink, leaning on his scabbard.

'I drink your health. Countess of Sieux,' Matt said shyly. Younger, he was not free of speech and his fair skin blushed easily when he spoke, but his blue eyes shone. He saluted with the old horn beaker as if with a silver cup. 'Success and long life at Sieux.'

He set the beaker carefully down on a wooden bench. The old woman muttered and snatched it back before melting away into the shade. I smiled at him kindly, for I liked him well; he was not more than a lad, fresh out from home.

'I'll drink to that,' I said, 'when we return and the first stones are laid.'

Walter took my arm, helped me to my feet. 'And I too. Lady Ann,' he said, eyes narrowed against the sun, his face stern. 'Pray God the masons' fee not be too high.' He settled his sword. 'They say their master mason is a shrewd but honest man. That's more than can be said for most town people. They claim that we countrymen be full of whims. But I think these city folk are mindless as a gust of wind. Blow them up like bellows, they spew out hot air. I'll be glad when we get back to Sieux. I'd rather broken walls than these rabbit warrens.'

Behind us another shutter clattered close, a tile fell to the ground almost at our feet. It made us aware suddenly where we were, and then, too, how far off seemed the square and the men in it, too far away, distorted by a trick of light, yet only two hundred yards, as I have said. It speaks much for the scorn our enemies had for us that, within sight and sound of Lord Raoul and his guard, they should strike as they did.

That sense of distance, that distorted light, sent a chill, a tingling to the fingers, like touching ice. I paused to fuss with skirt and gown, pulling the hood closer about my face, as if to hide. That pause saved us. From out of the shadow of a wooden gate, which stood half-open to a passage thread, something stirred, a movement perhaps, an extra depth to the darkness there. The squire on my right, young Matt, must have sensed it when I did, or my hesitation warned him. With one hand, he knocked me back, so that I fell and slithered on the stones. His other arm flew up to take the blow. Along the length of his mail sleeve, a line of red jetted out, where a knife caught and ripped, and clattered to the ground. Even as he clutched his arm and gave a shout, a group of men plunged at us with drawn swords. Walter already had wrenched his own blade free, swung up at them, straddling me until Matt behind could drag me up. We crashed against the house wall, both squires now together thrusting out. Our attackers, some half dozen or so, hampered for a moment by the narrowness of the passage where they had issued forth, startled perhaps by the clearer space, paused, bunched together still, not having the sense to fan out. Their hesitation gave Walter time to shout again, lunge through them, driving with his sword point.

One of them reeled back, cursing as his own arm was sliced. In the square, our men spun round. Some, seeing our plight, began to run, but slowly it seemed, in their heavy skirted mail and spurs. Others leapt to their horses' heads. I could hear Raoul's voice thunder command even as he spurred his stallion down the lane, bent low over its neck to avoid the overhanging gables and walls. Our assassins held their breaths, drove on. My squires had been well-trained; they knew how to back each other, and how to thrust and slash, yet they were two to five—no, less, for another of their number had taken a gash in the throat. But Matt by now had begun to falter, his sword hilt sticky with blood, knees buckling as he moved. One to four, and a woman to defend. There was a great clatter in the lane, sparks flying where steel hooves struck stone, even as the fourth man, masked with coif and helmet drawn low, grabbed me round the waist and began to drag me toward the passageway. I saw Walter stumble and go down. Raoul's sword smashed through his attackers' guard. Over one went, crumbled like chaff; a second fell, backed into that left-handed sweep, a third, turning to run, was trampled under those heavy hooves. And before the horse had ceased to snort and rear, Raoul had wrenched his feet free of the stirrup irons and dived over its side, running as he hit the ground. Only his own quickness prevented his cutting me through as he lunged after me into the passageway. The fourth man who held me had thrust me to the front, so he could retreat, using me as shield.

'Stand off, Raoul of Sieux,' he said. 'I use your woman as buckler to test your skill.' And he laughed. Step-by-step he drew me back, his words echoing in this dark and narrow place, more like to tunnel than to lane, with walls that jutted out in damp, sharp points, I remember this distinctly now, although then I remembered nothing, only the hard cruel grip which moved to stop my mouth, the sword blade against my ribs, the panting whisper at my ear. The passage was some sort of forgotten way, I suppose, ancient, with houses built around and over it. It led directly to the city wall, where once perhaps there had been a main gateway. It was blocked now, or partly so, for suddenly, at the tunnel's end, a gap of light appeared where a heavy iron grill, recently forced out of place, was propped open with an iron bar. And on the other side of it was sunlight, open space, the sound of many men and horses moving freely about.

'A few steps more,' my captor breathed, confidence rising as he neared escape. His wine-hot breath scorched my cheek. 'We'll take you and him. And your gold to line our purse.' He snatched a look to judge how close. That look was his last. Even as I bit at the hand that held my mouth, Raoul leaped. Thrusting up with his wounded shoulder, he plunged his sword, left-handed, beneath my arm. I felt its passing on a rush of wind, felt it force through flesh and bone, heard the gasp, almost of surprise. The fellow tried one more time to get his own sword up, a gush of blood flooding us both. Yet even as he loosed his grip, even before he sagged to one side, Raoul leaped again, over him and over me, toward the open grille. There was a spate of shouts and yells as he began to drag it shut. A sword came snaking from the outside, raking along his leather coat; a shower of arrows hissed through the gap and fell upon the overhanging walls.

'Fools,' I heard a voice rasp out, as now both Raoul and I struggled with the bars, 'I gave no such command.' The voice was sharp like flint, it made me shiver to hear it.

Another man shouted, 'They are both here,' and we heard the rattle of swords unsheathed.

But the passage which had been too narrow for a group of men was an advantage to one. Raoul beat their swords back as he tried to wrestle the grille closed. It was too heavy for him to manage alone, too heavy for me to strain and heave. One of his men, bursting after him, drew it shut; together then he and Raoul could ram the beam across and notch it into place. On the other side, men thrust against it to force it loose, cursing viciously when it held firm. We heard them mutter and whisper outside the wall, then the creak of leather, the jingle of spurs, men mounting and galloping off, silence.

'Back, back,' Raoul now shouted to his men, pouring behind him into the alleyway. They are too many, our hope is the square else we be all trapped like a denned fox. Ann, can you walk, are you harmed? God's breath, I did not think them yet so close.' He tried to wipe the blood from my hands and face, a helpless gesture from a one-armed man, his own face lined with anger and concern.

I mouthed denial, too stunned to speak, my lips bruised from that merciless grip. And, to tell the truth, I was not even sure. Where I had fallen, been dragged, a soreness grew about my ribs and my breastbone ached. I was splattered with blood from head to foot. I felt I would never move again.

Aware of impending danger, still shouting orders for my comfort, Raoul thudded into the wider lane, snatched at the stallion's reins, and heaved himself up awkwardly, sleeving blood. Down he galloped toward the square. Another trooper, slower, took me up behind. I saw two more haul up Matt and Walter, both white-faced, half-conscious, scarce able to hang on. We clattered back, the bodies of those others rolling beneath our feet. Already the church bell was tolling its warning note.

In the square, confusion swirled, alarms, shouts. Our men left there had made a tight shield ring, facing out from the church steps. The merchants whose houses stood around the church had already flapped indoors; iron gates shot home. Wise citizens escaped when there was chance. A group of soberly dressed men in long cloaks began to bundle up their purchases, drifted off, melted into the small streets, and were gone. Overhead, the clapper of the bell swung to and fro as if it would break from its hold.

'Silence me that bell,' Raoul cried. He pivoted his black horse around, looking for bowmen, spearmen, on rooftop or church tower. 'Or hang me the man who pulls it.'

His seneschal, already mounted, came spurring up, still tying big leather bags to his saddle bow. Clutching him round the waist, the village spokesman tried to grin. 'At least they failed to get this,' he said, and shook the one he held so that it jangled merrily.

‘They may yet.' Raoul was grim. 'That was what they have been waiting for. Only someone sprang the trap too soon. Lady Ann, your squires were mad to walk that way, and yet, thank God, although I would not have used you as decoy, no lasting harm is done. Stay close where I can watch you myself. That trap is sprung, but they've still the means to set it again. More than we by threes and fours.’

He pivoted round. Above him, the bell clanged twice, then was silent. 'They'll wait,' he said, 'by the northern gate as we issue forth. Best place to catch us, pick us off with their cross-bows. We'll go by the southern gates. That route will be longer for us, but it will take them off their stride. Let them find us at the river ford or the woodland road, more space for us to form ranks. A group of Normans looking for easy wealth. But undisciplined. They broke their cover without command. Thank God, their slowness gave us speed. They'll not attack a group of trained knights.' I do not mean to say he said all this at once; round he pivoted to each man until all were mounted again, giving encouragement, advice, command, each to each so that everyone knew what was to be done, what expected, what feared. He had even time to smile encouragement at me. I thought, Trained men, yes, but few. There had been many men outside the wall. That flint-like voice would not brook another disobedience, and the longer we waited, the more time for another ambush.

'My lord, my lord.' One of his men came spurring back from the northern gate. 'The gates are closed but they are waiting outside the walls.'

I had a sudden vision, like a cold wave, of the line of black-horsed men bearing down among the cattle pens as we rode out.

There was another cry and we all swung round. On the southern side of the square, a group of men stood forth, not men-at-arms or knights, but townsfolk, and as we watched, more came to join their ranks. They stood in such a way, athwart the southern street, as to block all exit from the square. They were surly men, armed with staves of wood and knives, but resolute. Even as Raoul jarred up his arm to call a halt, their leaders moved to confront him.

'Who breaks the peace of our town,' they shouted, 'who rides through it to bloody our streets? Restitution must first be made. Leave by the nearest gate, to the north. Our streets are closed.'

'Christ,' I heard my trooper swear. 'By the bones of Christ, they look to drive us forth,'

The muttering grew. More men stepped out, legs apart, swinging their wooden staves, stout enough to break a man's head, strong enough to hurl and trip a horse. Even mounted men might be wary of them.

'Out, out,' some cried, 'out from our town. We'll not be party to your private quarrels.' And others, more loudly, 'The Count of Sieux has been gone too long and never given thought of us. We've no need of him,' while others, voicing perhaps their real hopes, 'Give us back our gold before you leave.' Raoul's face had paled beneath the brown; the white scar stood out like a cord. I heard our men suck in their breath. A shutter swung open overhead. 'Bad luck to you, sod you,' a woman screamed, and another tile or rock narrowly missed Raoul's back. Any moment now, violence would erupt.

'Where got you that word?' Raoul's voice was low, but not so low it did not carry through the square. 'Restitution, is it, that you want? Before God, you shall have full payment yet. Gold is it? You can have your bellyful.' Now he was a just man as you know. I have never heard him do or say an unfair thing, and a massacre of townsfolk would have never entered his mind, especially those whom he had long considered as his friends. But I saw the order form upon his lips. They had trapped him in, no way out but to cut through them. I saw his men settle down to a charge, their lances grated on their saddle bows; behind him, his flag bearer broke his standard out, red and gold glinted the hawks with their cruel beaks and claws. Few foot soldiers can withstand a mounted charge, certainly not untrained men even as resolute and sturdy as these citizens. There could be no doubt in the end, we would ride them down. But the end for us would be as bitter as for them. For they had an advantage which they would use, the narrow streets down which a horseman could not pass. They would retreat and force us to fight through; step-by-step, we would have to hew and thrust. And even if we won to the southern gate, unless we went quickly, it would be too late. All those thoughts flashed through Raoul's mind. I read them as clearly as if they were my own. But again he had no choice. And the consequences also burst clear, like pain, red-hot and burning, before my eyes. I felt the flesh spill open to bone and blood; I felt the fierce grab of those steel spikes. And at the southern gate, waiting, waiting there for us, the dark mass of men and horses in unbroken line.