What the Heart Sees (7 page)

Rolf used a filthy fingertip as a pointer. “The ‘orses are picketed ‘ere, behind the camp, near to the stream. Only a couple o’ lackeys to watch ‘em. Closer up ‘ere is the big tent where the taxman stays an’ drinks an’ pisses into the fire. He were drunk as a newt last night, roarin’ curses and wavin’ ‘is fist. He beat ‘is squire wiff a stool because ‘is soup weren’t ‘ot enough. Rest o’ the tents are spread out across ‘ere—” his finger followed the line Cassie had scratched onto the leaf. “The edge o’ the forest is ‘ere an’ just ayont, the edge o’ the ravine. The men were gamblin’ and dicin’ last night, mostly fightin’ with each other. Over ‘ere—” his finger shifted again— “are the supply wagons. ‘Tween there and here, we only found two sentry posts with four men apiece. Cass said you’d as like be able to figure this already but,” he paused and screwed up his face trying to recall exactly what he had been told to say, “she said if the guards by the ‘orses were took out by surprise, then our knights could use them beasts to attack the camp. She said a score of archers in the trees could set fire to the tents then pick off the buggards as they ran out. Be like shootin’ ducks on a pond. Then your knights could ride through an’ finish off the ones we miss.”

Thomas studied the leaf with an experienced soldier’s eye, as did Sir Hubert. Neither wanted to be too quick to acknowledge that a plan devised by a girl up in a tree might work. But in the end, they both had to agree that it just might. At the very least, de Caux’s men would be driven out of the forest and, once on the open field, there would be archers left on the castle battlements to catch them in a cross-fire.

Thomas made his decision and straightened. “We’ll go tonight. We’ll take the men through the tunnel and hopefully get in position to catch them by surprise just before dawn. I see no other way around but that we will have to strip the walls of every knight and leave only a small company of archers to man the defenses. Hubert—?”

“On my way.” And he was. He strode out of the chamber, bellowing for his squire who was whispering in the corner with Edward.

“How will we find her?” Thomas asked Rolf, his voice urgent with concern. “How will she know we are even coming?”

“She already knows, my lord. And she will find us.

~~~

Thomas had reason to recall Cassie’s derision as he crouched down behind a copse of brambles and listened to the clanking, creaking, and scraping of metal on metal as his knights moved through the forest, each one as quiet as a tinker’s cart on a rutted road. At least the darkness was in their favor, for the shadows were so thick he could barely see the man next to him. Compounding their blindness, a heavy layer of morning mist was forming in the dips and hollows, and men were only visible by the peaks of their helms and the small puffs of breath that rose around them.

Rolf had said Cassie would find them, but how the devil would she know where to look? How would
they
know if she had been caught or killed since sending Rolf back into the castle?

Something happened in his chest when he allowed himself to think those thoughts. A tightness that had nothing to do with the buckles binding his chain mail, or the stiffened bullhide hauberk strapped overtop. He could not deny the girl intrigued him. She was brave and fearless, intelligent, and shockingly lovely when she wasn’t dressed like a woodsprite. It was rare for him to be smitten by a pair of soft lips and big green eyes, but smitten he was.

He turned and was about to hiss another warning to his clanking knights when he found himself staring into Cassie’s grinning face.

His first instinct, which he resisted, was to pull her into his arms. His second was to at least try to sound gruff enough that she would not know how genuinely worried he had been. “Christ Jesus, girl, where have you been? Another hour and we will have lost the shield of darkness.”

Cassie only grinned wider and stuffed a chunk of thick yellow cheese into her mouth. She had been perched all day and night high in the tree tops watching de Caux’s camp, smelling their cooking fires and listening to her belly grumble. She’d had but a few sips of water from the stream and chewed on a handful of berries after having nearly been caught once trying to filch a loaf of fresh baked bread off the supply wagon. Thankfully Rolf had tucked an oatcake and a wedge of cheese into his tunic for her, along with several other special items she had requested, chief among them being a supply of arrows, some with the tips wrapped in pitch-soaked rags. All of the archers were armed thus, and all carried tinder and flint and a small clump of dried grass tucked under their belts.

“We’d best move quickly, my lord,” she said around the cheese. “The camp is still asleep, the few sentries have long since become bored at their posts and most of them stand dozing behind trees.”

“Rolf told me your plan, and I approve.”

“You do?”

She looked so surprised he almost laughed. “Yes I do. I’m not half so arrogant as to ignore sound advice from someone who can steal a cooked suckling pig out from under the nose of my captain of the guards. You will position your archers in the trees and Rolf can lead us to the picket line where the horses are tethered. Once we are in place, and give the signal you can unleash hellfire. I would, of course, rather it was you who led us to the horses and Rolf who took to the trees, but I suspect you would scoff at that suggestion.”

“My place is with the archers,” she said simply. “Most are simple villeins and woodsmen who have never fought a true battle against knights, and certainly not from a distance close enough to smell their sweat. They fear the war horses, fear the men in armor who wield battle axes and swords.”

“And you do not?”

She drew a breath and whispered. “I am terrified of them, my lord. But in the trees there is a measure of safety. I keep telling myself that is so. Moreover, I know the prime targets and where to strike to cause the most panic. The foresters would be going in blind without me.”

Thomas sighed, cursing her logic again, for it went against the very grain of his soul, to send her back up into those trees, not to mention every code of chivalry to which he had sworn solemn vows. Yet what choice did he have? There were a hundred villagers huddled behind the castle walls depending on him.

He lifted a gloved hand and brushed the back of his fingers along her cheek. “Your courage challenges us all to be better men.”

Uncaring of who might be watching, he curved his hand around the nape of her neck and drew her into a deep, commanding kiss, one that sent the passion flowing through his veins into hers. When they parted, the tremors in her body ceased and the promise in his eyes sent the pride flushing through every inch of her being.

“My liege,” she whispered.

“My woodsprite,” he smiled.

Sir Hubert cleared his throat. “We can fight and lose the day sure as I’m standing here, but we can never win if we don’t fight at all.”

Thomas dropped his hand reluctantly, breaking contact with Cassie. With time and darkness fading fast, he passed the hushed orders to his men. On his signal, the small band of archers followed Cassie, vanishing like wraiths into the mist. Thomas fitted his helmet over his coif, hooked the pennyplate throat guard to his mail and nodded to Rolf to lead them on.

~~~

Just as Cassie had said, the sentries who were placed around the camp were half asleep. Most were not aware there was death in the woods until they felt the slash of cold steel across their throats. The lackeys tending the horses fared only slightly better; they were knocked out with cudgels and sword hilts, then bound and gagged and tossed into a shallow ditch. It was accomplished with such stealth that Thomas chose not to risk the possibility of the destriers raising the alarm with strange knights putting them to saddle. Instead, he positioned his men in a wide semi circle around the encampment and had Rolf whistle the signal to the archers.

High in the boughs of her chosen tree, Cassie heard the warbled trill and struck tinder to flint, lighting the small hillock of dried grass. The flame was small and would last only a few moments, but it was long enough to fire the pitch-soaked strip of rags tied around the arrow tips. In trees all around her, the other archers were doing the same and at her soft whistle, the arrows were nocked to bows and the flaming darts were sent flying down upon the sleeping camp. In quick succession she lighted and loosed three more, and when the little pile of grass burned out, she switched to the barbed arrows and waited.

From less than a hundred yards away, Thomas saw the pinpoints of flame raining down from the trees. Moments later he heard shouts, then screams as the tents caught fire. He rose from the mist, his sword in one hand, shield in the other, and advanced on the camp. To de Caux’s men, stumbling from burning tents, their heads fuddled from sleep, Thomas’s knights must have appeared to be nightmares come to life with the mist swirling around them, their helmets glistening wet, the silence broken by war cries and the deadly, metallic swish of chain mail.

Thomas’s knights swarmed through the camp, their swords hacking and slashing a bloody path. From above, a steady hail of arrows struck through chests and legs and unprotected necks as de Caux’s men scrambled to find cover. The horses, smelling fire, began to scream and buck against the tethering ropes. They broke free and ran in all directions, adding to the confusion. Three charged straight through the center of the camp, their hooves trampling running men. One of the knights managed to catch a beast that was hastily saddled and tried to swing himself on its back. Seven arrows struck between his shoulders, pinning him to the leather, and when the horse bucked and thundered away, the knight was dragged alongside, bouncing and screaming.

De Caux’s men had no chance. The surprise was absolute. Anyone who thought to raise a sword was cut down where he stood. Those who took to a knee and raised their arms straight up to the sky were spared, and in truth, there were more who did this than chose to die for a viper like Omfrie de Caux. Here and there were small, intense skirmishes where the blood flew in ribbons and the trees shook as the horses crashed around, shaking acorns and archers from the boughs.

~~~

Cassie felt her feet slip out from under her. The tree had been bent and she had lost her balance, driving a sliver of bark into her hand as she tried to keep from spilling to the ground. To no avail, she felt herself falling and tried as best she could to land clear of two knights who were charging at each other, their swords gripped two-fisted and swung with such force that sparks flew off the blades when they met.

Cassie was driven back and sprawled across the path of a third knight, one who snarled and raised his sword over his head, intending to take hers off with the next blow. He was wearing a plain woolen shirt and hose, and without armor, he was vulnerable to the crescent-shaped glaive that swung out of the darkness and thudded into his back, chopping through his spine like a piece of kindling.

He fell forward, landing face-down on the hard earth beside Cassie. She felt someone grasp a handful of her tunic to pull her up onto her feet again. She could not see his face behind the wide nasal of his helmet, but there was no mistaking the clear blue eyes that blazed out at her.

“Sometimes we clanking knights can prove useful too.”

She sensed his grin as Thomas swatted her on the rump and sent her into the safety of the forest. A blink later, he was gone again into the swirl of smoke and mist and the pandemonium of battle.

~~~

Ten minutes? Fifteen at most, and it was over. Thomas stood in the center of the camp and turned a full circle, his sword blade dripping threads of blood, his breath misting the air around his helmet. The face he sought was not among the guards kneeling before the burning scraps of their tents. De Caux’s tent had been made of heavy silk and had burned fast and furious to the ground within seconds, but there was no sign of Prince John’s henchman within. Nor was he discovered among the bodies of the dead or wounded.

And then, just as the dawn was painting the sky a watery pale blue, two of the archers came out of the woods dragging de Caux’s half-dead squire between them.

With a hot coal pressed over his wound, he eventually spluttered the unwelcome news that Omfrie de Caux and two of his knights had managed to get away and were even then riding with the devil on their heels to Lincoln.

“We have won the skirmish, but we shall surely lose the battle.” Thomas was standing at one of the windows that looked out over the fields and forest. “Lincoln is filled with men loyal to the regent, and I warrant within the week there will be a small army surrounding our walls.”

“What will you do?” Cassie asked nervously. She had been summoned to his chamber and was not entirely certain what to say or if she should say anything at all. Sir Hubert and the others had just left, having held a small, but quarrelsome council of war. Edward and Cassie had listened from the antechamber but had not been able to make out too many of the words through the thick door.

The gruff knight had glared at her on his way out and she could not help but wonder if they blamed her archers for having let de Caux escape. She was prepared with arguments, if that was the case: They were woodsmen, not soldiers. They killed plovers and rabbits, not men. And there had been so much confusion when the fires broke out, with men and horses running everywhere...

“What choice do I have?” Thomas said, answering her question. “We have to leave. We cannot withstand another siege and I’ll not see these walls brought down and the innocent villagers slaughtered. They’re too brave for such an ignoble end. No.” He shook his head and leaned a shoulder against the edge of the window casement. “We will walk out of here and leave the gates open. The castle is too valuable a defense to destroy for no reason, and when King Richard returns sanity to his realm, it will be here for me to reclaim once the viper has had his fangs removed.”