The Witch in the Well: A Catherine LeVendeur Mystery (28 page)

It was looking worse for Aymon. She hoped he was found soon.

“Thank you,” she told the
jongleurs
. “That does help. We are grateful for your help.”

“How grateful, Lady Catherine?” Alceste asked with a smile.

Margaret fumbled in a bag at her waist and found three silver
deniers
. She handed them to the men. Alceste looked at it with approval.

“Coins of Troyes are always welcome.” He got up. “Come, brothers! We can now drink wine like the nobles.”

As they started down the path, they were forced to move aside for a man on horseback coming up. The sun was behind him, making his features hard to make out. When he saw Catherine, he stopped and dismounted. She squinted and then started in surprise.

Then he saw Margaret, already running toward him. His face lit with joy as she leapt into his arms.

“Solomon!” Margaret cried. “I’m so glad! I’ve missed you so very much.”

“And I you, precious.” He hugged her.

Looking over her shoulder, Solomon saw Catherine’s expression and all the happiness drained from his heart.

Sunday afternoon. The village of Boisvert.

Surge, vade, et dic populo Deo ne timeat, sed firmiter toto corde

credat in unum verum Deum; eruntque ubique victuri
.

Rise up, go and tell the people of God not to be afraid but

with all their hearts believe firmly in the one true God; and

they shall be victorious everywhere.

—
Gesta Francorum
, Part 25

S
olomon quickly released Margaret.

“I’m sorry, sweet,” he said. “For a moment, I forgot you were no longer ten years old.”

Her arms were shaking. “Yes, of course. How could I be so un-mindful of my age?” she stammered.

“Catherine!” Solomon called. “I have serious news. I need to speak with your grandfather.”

Catherine’s face changed at once. “Come with me,” she said.

They hurried up to the keep, Solomon leading his horse and walking with Catherine. Margaret followed slowly behind.

“Why is she here?” Solomon asked. “No one told me.”

Catherine explained about her mother, giving a rapid recitation of all that had happened since they arrived.

“Now, what is it that’s brought you here?” she asked.

“I should tell your grandfather first,” Solomon hedged. “He’s the lord here.”

“Seguin seems to be the one giving orders,” Catherine said. “But with one son dead and the other missing, he may not be too receptive.”

“Catherine.” Solomon stopped in the road to gape at her. “Don’t you ever go anywhere peaceful?”

“Apparently not,” she answered, linking her arm in his. “Solomon, we really need to have a talk.”

He pulled away. “No, we don’t. Please take me to whoever is commanding the defense of this place. I have no time for any other discussion.”

“Of course.”

Catherine led him into the bailey and waited while he saw to his horse. Margaret joined her a moment later, flushed and ill at ease.

“How silly of me to be so bold,” she said. “I might as well have been Edana’s age. Don’t tell my brother, will you?”

Catherine looked at her sad, pleading expression and her heart ached for both of them. Why couldn’t Margaret have an easier life?

“I won’t say a word,” she assured the girl. “As long as you don’t forget yourself again.”

“I won’t.” Margaret sounded defeated. “I’ll go in and see if Seguin has returned from hunting for Aymon.”

“A good idea. Thank you,” Catherine said.

Solomon returned soon. He didn’t ask where Margaret had gone.

“You know I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important,” he told Catherine.

“I do.” She understood the unspoken apology. “Are we in danger? Should we return to Paris?”

“I don’t think there’s time,” he said.

They entered the hall and found only Gargenaud and his wife, Briaud, waiting for them.

“I was told that a stranger had ridden into the village and was coming this way,” he greeted them. “I sent the girl to find Seguin, but if you have a message to deliver, then give it to me. I’m still lord here.”

Solomon bowed to him.

“I bring news from Anjou,” he said. “Olivier de Boue has raised an army and is proceeding toward Boisvert with great speed. I have this from people who have seen them and fled their homes before his advance. You have no more than a day or two in which to send for aid and gather your people into the keep.”

He bowed again.

Gargenaud sat motionless. Catherine wondered if he understood what Solomon had said. Then he raised his arm.

“Briaud,” he told his wife. “Have the bells rung. Send my bailiff to me at once.”

She nodded and withdrew.

“Thank you, young man.” Gargenaud waved him away. “Go down to the kitchens and tell them I said to feed you.”

“Grandfather,” Catherine interrupted. “This is my husband’s partner, not a paid messenger.”

“He’s not hungry?” Gargenaud asked.

Solomon touched Catherine’s arm. “As a matter of fact, I am,” he said. “Thank you, my lord.”

“Seguin!” Gargenaud shouted. “I told you that bastard was going to attack. Seguin!”

He noticed Catherine. “What’s wrong with you, girl? Go fetch my grandson at once!”

“Yes, Grandfather,” Catherine bobbed quickly and ran from the room.

Edgar knew they were nearing the surface again when he heard the bells.

“How long were we down there?” he asked Brehier. “It can’t be Vespers, yet.”

“We only ring the church bells on Sunday morning and holy days,” Brehier told him. “That’s the alarm. We need to get back at once.”

At an underground junction farther on they ran into Guillaume and his group.

“Is it fire?” Guillaume asked, his memory of disaster still fresh.

“Don’t know,” Edgar panted. “How much farther to the hall?”

“Not far now.” Guillaume was running, too. “I don’t hear any screams.”

“Is that good or bad?” Martin asked Edgar.

“Neither. It just means the children aren’t there.”

The men exploded into the hall, swords and cudgels ready to attack.

The huge room was empty.

At the first clang of the bells, people had poured from every cranny of the castle. Samonie and Marie arrived, herding children before them, the youngest on their hips. Soon after, Agnes, her husband, and her household followed. In between came servants and the few ladies of the court, supporting Elissent. Last came an angry Seguin.

“Who ordered those bells to be rung?” he shouted.

“I did,” Gargenaud answered. He strode into the hall, back straight as if he had just dropped twenty years. “We have to prepare for a siege. Everyone! Out to the bailey!”

Catherine stepped out onto the staircase down to the bailey,
pushed by the others. She looked down and felt as if she were about to descend into a flood. People were pouring through the gates and across the drawbridge. It appeared that the entire village was trying to fit into the space. Some were pulling goats and pigs, or carrying cages of chickens or rabbits.

Samonie nudged her from behind. Catherine took a deep breath and plunged into the crowd.

Halfway down, she spotted Margaret’s red braids. Pushing with her elbows, she managed to clear a path to her.

“What’s happening?” Margaret asked.

It was Marie who answered. She leaned against the castle wall to catch her breath.

“Everyone knows that when the bells sound, the entire village should head for the protection of the keep,” she told them. “We have the same custom at Vielleteneuse.”

Catherine surveyed the chaos around her. “Wouldn’t it be better just for a few select villagers to see what was wrong first?”

Marie shook her head. “There might not be time. It could be flood, fire, or invasion. Better to have everyone safe.”

Now it did seem to Catherine that people were collecting, as she had done, in family groups, counting noses, staking out a space. Some even had the presence of mind to bring bedding.

She wished Edgar would return. There was no sign of Solomon, either. Where had he vanished to?

“Mama!” James tugged on her sleeve. “Is there going to be a battle? Can I fight, too?”

“No, and of course not!” Catherine told him sharply.

James glared up at her, then sat on the ground, arms crossed, with a face of stubborn anger. Catherine sighed. Samonie handed Peter to her. Of course he was hungry again. She held him up and looked at him sternly.

“Don’t you become like your brother,” she warned. “I couldn’t manage two of you.”

She sat on the ground beside her sulking son.

As she waited for Peter to finish nursing, Catherine looked around the bailey. Things were becoming more organized. People had found places for themselves and all were now waiting tensely for someone to tell them why they had been summoned. When Gargenaud appeared on the landing above them, in mail and helm, a spontaneous cheer went up.

“People of Boisvert!” he cried.

There was instant silence, except for the bleating of a goat.

“My people!” Gargenaud held up his sword. “The walls of this keep have protected you all your lives. They always shall. I have just learned that a foul usurper, Olivier de Boue, is on his way with his paltry army. He believes that he can force us to turn over Boisvert. But this is Andonenn’s home and she will allow none but those of her blood to hold it.”

Murmurs began from the mass of people below. Gargenaud held up his hand.

“We have withstood worse than Olivier can give,” he stated proudly. “But we must prepare to fight him off from within these walls either until our men defeat him or Count Thibault sends us aid. You have nothing to fear!” His voice rose. “We are well supplied, thanks to your good efforts. There is food and water enough to last out a dozen Oliviers. But we must see that there is nothing left in field or village that will sustain these barbarians. My grandson, Seguin, will tell you what must be done. In Andonenn’s name and by the mercy of Our Lord, we will prevail!”

He raised the sword so that it caught the sunlight. The flash gave the impression that the fire of the sun had leapt into the blade and into the man holding it.

The roar was deafening. Gargenaud bowed his head in thanks. Then he backed through the doorway to the keep. Seguin replaced him at once. He descended the stairs, calling out orders as he came.

“Gather what you can from the fields. Burn the rest. Bring
everything from your homes, then burn all those outside the walls.”

Someone gave a roar of anguish. Seguin stopped, searching for the source of the cry.

“Landris, stop whining,” he ordered. “Houses can be built again. Or do you want to stay and defend it with a mattock and scythe?”

“He’d cut off his own foot,” another man shouted.

The laughter broke the spell. The crowd dissolved into collections of frightened but resolute people, each concerned with protecting his own.

Catherine saw Solomon at last.

“Where’s Edgar?” he asked when he was close enough to be heard.

“I don’t know,” Catherine said. “He went hunting for Aymon.”

“Oh, yes,” Solomon said as he reached them. “The prodigal son. Look, Catherine, I need to leave. Your grandfather wants me to get to Troyes as soon as I can to tell the count what’s happening and have him send men to lift the siege.”

“But that’s so dangerous!” Margaret had been listening.

Solomon smiled at her. “Not a bit. Who would bother a simple trader? Anyway, I’ll be well ahead of Olivier’s army.”

Catherine wished she could send Margaret with him. She had no reason to be caught up in this. But seeing the way Margaret was gazing up at Solomon, she couldn’t risk it. She loathed herself for not trusting them. Still, she didn’t and that was all there was to it. Perhaps Edgar would see the matter differently.

“When do you go?” she asked.

“Within the hour,” he answered. “There’s still enough daylight for me to be well on the road, perhaps as far as Chartres today.”

Catherine looked down at Peter, now asleep against her
breast, a trickle of milk running from the corner of his mouth. She wanted him out of it. She wanted all of them out of it, home and safe in Paris. Gargenaud hadn’t told these people that the well was drying up; that there had been murder here only last night. She had tried to deny the curse but this threat was too great.

“Solomon. . .,” she began, but was cut off by Marie as she saw Guillaume come out of the keep.

“Over here!” She waved her scarf until he spotted her.

Edgar was right behind him with Martin and another man. Samonie gasped.

“Are you all right?” Catherine asked her.

Samonie nodded, staring in amazement at her son and his father standing together like old friends. Catherine followed her gaze but saw nothing to remark upon.

“It doesn’t appear that they found Aymon,” she said.

Edgar and Martin headed toward them. The other man wandered off toward the stables. Edgar’s mouth fell open when he saw Solomon.

“What are you doing here?” he asked. “Don’t you know we’re about to be attacked?”

“I’d heard something about that,” Solomon said. “Don’t worry, I’ll be away from here shortly. Think you can hold out until I return with the count’s army?”