The troubadour's song (29 page)

money were wasted, to say nothing of lives. But he could not help but respond to Andre's infectious sense of adventure.

He took up a pole and helped steer the barge, which they slowed as soon as they approached the outer limits of the camp. The earthworks stopped just where some of the extra horses were tied up. Now it was time for Gaucelm's diversion.

He strung the bow and aimed at the tree trunk around which wound the rope to which the horses were tied. Little did any of the grooms know that Gaucelm had loosened the halters. The first arrow whacked into the tree, upsetting the horses and causing some of them to rear. The rope came undone, and the animals were loose in the camp. Before the soldiers could identify what had frightened the animals, the barge slipped onward.

The next group of soldiers came down to the bank and Gaucelm stood up, calling out in French and gesturing behind them. "Ambush!" he cried, and sent soldiers running up the bank. Then, with their attention diverted, he aimed again, this time to dislodge a lantern hanging from the front of a wagon. Cries went up as the arrow shaft shattered the lantern and spread fire across the ground.

The return fire landed harmlessly in the water behind the barge, which moved more swiftly now as soldiers ran to the water's edge but turned northward to fend off the attackers they thought came from that direction. Andre poled swiftly as Gaucelm strung another arrow to fend off any who saw through his trickery and came after them. But by the time the confusion turned in their direction, they were under the bridge and within range of the protection offered by the town militia from their ramparts.

"Do not shoot!" Gaucelm called upward in Provencal. "We are merchants from Orange with supplies."

Their ploy worked, and the militia on the ramparts gave covering fire to the French soldiers gathered on the bridge. The barge came alongside the quay and then slid past the curve to where a gate opened to allow them entrance to the stone-paved dock. The gate closed again, and Gaucelm stepped out and tied the barge

to iron rings, while a notary came forward, wax tablet in hand, surprised to see a barge of goods that had slipped past the soldiers. But the man was nevertheless prepared to make an accounting of the goods and collect their tax.

"These goods will serve us well if they are staples to be consumed," said the notary. He was dressed in burnished red tunic with loose sleeves that hung to his thighs. On his head was a purple turban with the end hanging down one side.

"Tell him the barrels contain wine from Vienne," said Andre in French.

Gaucelm explained and added, "My friend here persuaded the merchant to let us make the run past the soldiers. We are from the French army ourselves, but thought it worth the risk to enter the town and seek audience with your mayor."

The notary stared at them aghast. He glanced from the wine casks back to them. "Are you spies?"

Gaucelm gave him a wry look. "We could be. But since we've made no attempt to slip in unnoticed, no. Consider us unofficial emissaries devoted to preventing the waste of lives and resources."

The notary gazed a little wistfully at the wine. "Is that still for sale?"

"By all means," assured Gaucelm. "My friend Andre Peloquin was commissioned by the owner of this barge to take full payment."

"Then I'll send word to the mayor that two Frenchmen wish to speak to him. What are your ranks?"

"We are both knights in the service of the king. I am Sir Gaucelm Deluc. Lately lieutenant to Simon de Montfort," he added, thinking to frighten the notary enough to make him realize just who he was dealing with.

The notary scurried off to send word and then returned to offer one of his servants to escort them to the mayor's house. They placed the barge in the care of the notary, though Andre insisted that they might be cheated if they did not wait for a receipt. The casks accounted for to his satisfaction and the money paid, he

then assented to accompanying Gaucelm through the streets of Avignon to do what they had come for.

On their walk, they took notice of the prosperity of the place. Butchers, bakers, and vendors of all kinds seemed well stocked. And from the lack of panic as the townspeople went about moving siege machines in place and stacking up missiles, they were not afraid of defending themselves. The town would not fall easily.

Master Wykes's house was a four-story stone house with steeply pitched shingled roof. They entered the ground floor anteroom, where an open door to the side led to the counting room. The notary's servant went up to say who was calling, and in a moment he returned and sent them up.

Gaucelm and Andre climbed the steep flight of stairs and came out into the hall. A plump, matronly woman in rich clothing came forward.

"Please come in," she said. "My husband will be here directly. May I get you refreshments while you wait?"

They accepted wine and sat down in sturdy wooden armchairs before the fire. From another door leading to a kitchen on the other side of the chimney came tantalizing smells. The mayor's wife informed them that a meal was being prepared and they were invited to join in.

"What do you think we can accomplish here?" mused Andre, happier now that he had been given good-tasting wine for his trouble.

Gaucelm shrugged and sipped his wine more slowly. "One never knows, but it is worth a try. This siege will eat up months with both sides so obviously prepared for it."

There were steps on the stairs, and then Master Wykes entered the hall and crossed to them.

"Ann," he said. "My wife told me I had important visitors and I recognize your faces from this morning. Yet you are not dressed as knights of the king's army now. I am curious as to what brings you here."

He accepted a goblet of wine which his silent wife had brought

him and then gestured for her to leave the ewer within their reach as she retired. Then he seated himself with his two unexpected guests and talked softly so that any servants who might happen to be near would not overhear.

"I am surprised to see two French knights walk so boldly into my house. What makes you think I will not summon the militia and keep you hostages?"

"Do not think that we did not come here armed," said Gaucelm, though it was not a threat. "We would not make it easy for your militia to take us hostage. But in any case, we took you to be a man of honor. We are here because we wish to put off a siege in which both sides will suffer. Our lives are not worth so much to Louis that he would humble himself and bow to your wishes merely to save our skins. He has other good knights in his army, in fact, a good number of them. No, we took the risk because we perceived you to be a man of reason."

The serious burgher leaned back in his chair and shook his shaggy head with an expression of complete irony.

"I find my home to be the refuge not only of yourselves but of another august negotiating party here to gain information and offer advice. Is it not strange?"

Gaucelm's skin prickled and he repeated what Master Wykes had said for Andre's benefit. Then he inquired as to who the other party was.

Their host considered for a moment and then said, "I have offered my protection and promised I would not reveal their presence. I'm afraid I will have to let them decide whether they wish to make their presence known and so converse with you."

Gaucelm watched the mayor carefully. "I take it you have been visited by nobility of the South who have a vested interest in the outcome of this siege."

Wykes lifted a hand in a shrug, but did not comment further. Gaucelm was quick to understand the implications.

"Might not these noblemen be here to influence you against the king?"

There was a trace of wry humor in the corners of the stout

burgher's mouth that Gaucelm had difficulty interpreting. He had the distinct feeling that he was at a disadvantage.

"Perhaps," said Gaucelm, "it would be best for all of us to meet together to see what can be done. Ofttimes enemies have better luck negotiating when it is done by men of middle rank rather than kings and counts who are too stubborn to see sense."

"I do not disagree with you, sir. And for myself, I am glad to listen. But I shall have to consult my guests, who have named themselves honorary advisors."

Gaucelm frowned, irritated that he had been beaten here by someone from the opposing side. He would not leave, however, without making his point.

"It does Avignon little good to hold out against the king. Agreements were reached to let him pass. His argument is not with you."

"True," said Master Wykes. "But he has no authority here. Avignon pays homage to the Holy Roman Empire."

"I would warn you that jurisdictions are often uncertain. Would it not be wise to do as Louis asks and make sure he bears you no grudge? If you open your gates now, I'm sure it will quell his anger and he will do little more than demand a show of apology and perhaps some slight fines. But if you wait it out, you will be sorry. He is determined."

Wykes seemed to listen attentively, but all he would say was, "It is not my decision alone. I will call the council together, though it is late. We will go to the guildhall and you can present your case. I guarantee you will have a fair hearing."

"And will your southern friends join us?"

Master Wykes rose, indicating the interview was ended for the present. "That depends on their wishes. Come. My wife is ready to oversee supper. Sup with us, you will need your strength."

While the trestle tables were being laid and platters and trenchers brought in, Gaucelm quickly translated what had transpired for Andre's sake. Then the burgher's solemn children joined them and they all took their places. Gaucelm did not miss the trays

that were carried from the kitchen up the wide staircase to a third-floor landing. He narrowed his eyes. The mysterious noblemen from the South must be residing in upper rooms and were not ready to make their presence known.

"Who do you think would have traveled this far to spy on the king's army?" Gaucelm said in a low voice to Andre, who was gnawing on a turkey drumstick.

After wiping his chin with the tablecloth, Andre turned his mind to the matter. "Someone who considered it very important to know just what kind of threat we pose, no?"

"And many of the southern towns have already surrendered. Many of the great lords are dead."

Andre's drumstick stopped midair. "I see where you are headed. Only Toulouse now holds out. Whoever is here must be sent from the count of Toulouse."

"The old count is too ill to fight or travel, but there remains the son, who will inherit the title."

"Surely he would not make such a journey himself when he could send informers?"

"Perhaps." Gaucelm ate silently and only took enough wine to clear his palate but not to muddle his thinking. Something niggled at him, and he found himself staring at the upper landing as the servants brought down empty dishes.

After the dishes were cleared and the table taken down, the men donned cloaks and Master Wykes led them through the streets to the guildhall. Gaucelm did not waste the walk, but took a mental accounting of what he saw. As he expected, he found no weakness. An even greater reason to find a way for Avignon and the king to compromise.

In the silversmith's lane, they came to a tall building of post-and-beam construction, rising straight between its older neighbors, which leaned slightly. As they climbed the stairs to the hall, they could hear the din of voices, which ceased one by one as the newcomers' boots sounded on the stairs. They came out in a large room, with fire crackling in an enormous hearth at one end

of the room. The men stood in groups around a long table as Master Wykes brought the two unofficial emissaries forward.

"Fellow councilmen," he began, "I have here two knights from the French king who claim they have sneaked into our city more to do a favor for ourselves than to help the king. They fully realize we could keep them hostage and faced that risk. For that reason, I agreed that we would give them a fair hearing."

"Perhaps if we don't like what they have to say we can still keep them as hostages," suggested one of the councilmen.

"We can do that," agreed Master Wykes. "I think that how honorably we behave toward them will depend on how honorably they behave toward us."

The sour little man who was so anxious to make prisoners of them pinned his mouth shut.

"It seems that we have been chosen as arbiters of this unfortunate war," Master Wykes went on. "Earlier today two other respected guests appeared here and I gave them sanctuary. They have agreed to meet these two French knights and offer their views to this assembly as well."

The mayor's provost now came forward, a thin elder with an aristocratic bearing. His fur-lined surcoat was of the finest wool. "If you please, Mister Mayor, introduce us first to these two French knights. What are their credentials?"

Gaucelm and Andre introduced themselves, though they could see that with all their impeccable northern lineage, the burghers' polite nods did not hide their own pride at being self-made men in trade.

"And who are the other nobles who come from the South?" the provost asked.

Master Wykes's young servant, who had obviously been given prior instructions, now marched to a door that led off the hall and opened it. Two cloaked figures entered the room.

Gaucelm was ready for who he thought it was. And indeed the alert young man with the proud bearing resembled his father, the count of Toulouse, with whom Gaucelm had once parleyed. But he barely heard Master Wykes announce that young Ray-

mond of Toulouse had arrived among them a few days ago, for his usually controlled face lost its pose of neutrality as he stared, stunned beyond belief at the woman who revealed herself from behind Raymond's shoulder.

Allesandra stepped into the room and removed her cloak. She was garbed in a tasteful dark-blue gown with a surcoat of the same color. Her hair was covered by an ivory-colored veil, and a linen wimple covered her throat. But as modestly as she was dressed, her face portrayed her nobility in the lift of her chin and the smoothness of her brow. A thousand thoughts flew through Gaucelm's mind as he stared at her, and he could see at once that she was prepared for this meeting. Her unruffled bearing told him she had known that he was here.