B00B9BL6TI EBOK (30 page)

Master Michael acknowledged him with a gracious nod, and raised his arm in farewell.

Sir Gilbert watched Edwin run, but didn’t follow. No doubt he wanted some time to himself to take in all that had happened. He turned to Fitzwalter, of whom he had heard but who he had never met. He indicated that the captured knight should walk with him.

‘Is there anyone to whom you would like to send a message?’

Fitzwalter nodded gratefully. ‘To my wife, if you please. If you would be so kind as to fix my ransom then I can also inform her of that so that she may begin raising the money.’

‘I am not sure yet whether you will be permitted to remain in my custody or whether his grace the king will insist on all prisoners being made over to him. Until we know, you may remain my guest if you will give me your word that you will not try to escape.’

Fitzwalter nodded and held out his hand. ‘I give you my word.’

Gilbert shook it. ‘Good. Now, walk with me a while and tell me how you came to be here and what happened.’

They began to amble in no particular direction, their steps taking them round the outside of the cathedral. Fitzwalter ran his hand through his hair as he began to speak. ‘As to how I’m here – well, the Lord only knows. It seemed so clear that we didn’t want John as king any longer, so I agreed to oppose him, but somehow this turned into having the French as our allies and by then it was too late to back out. I only wanted what was best for the realm.’

Gilbert raised his eyebrows but said nothing.

‘And so here we were, trying to break down those strong castle walls before the regent could get to us – how in God’s name did he get here so quickly with such a host? It was I who saw you approaching, so I fetched Saer de Quincey and we rode out to watch. We thought you not too numerous and wanted to attack you over the open ground, but de Quincey thought we’d better ask the comte de Perche. I rode back to find him, and by the time we came outside the city again, you’d started to muster on the ridge. I urged him to attack you while you were out on the open ground, as I thought we could destroy you before you even came near to the city.’

He became more animated. ‘I thought I would be able to participate in a true knightly pitched battle. Such occasions happen so rarely that they are bound to go down in history – minstrels would sing of the deeds. There would be glory and fame to be won. How much better to fight like that than in the cramped streets of the city …’ His eyes shone as he gestured, but then he looked at Gilbert and stopped.

‘But I digress. Anyway, as we watched you forming up, your second force came into view over the ridge, waving more banners. The breeze had dropped again so it was impossible to see who they were, but there were certainly a goodly number. De Quincey started to lose some of his enthusiasm.’

He stopped and turned. ‘The comte continued to watch the new arrivals for a few moments more, making some calculations; then he spoke, saying that you were too numerous, and that it would be folly to attack you out on the open ground – we would be surrounded. So he said we would return to the city and make ready to defend ourselves there. I was disappointed, but the decision was the correct one once we’d seen how many men you had. Attacking a superior force like that in the open would be suicide, and I wasn’t so keen to take part in a pitched battle that I wanted to lose my life in it. So we turned our horses and returned to the city. And of course now I wish we
had
charged out in the open.’

Gilbert looked at him. ‘Truly? Even though now we will throw the French pretender off our shores, and the true king can reign?’

‘Well, when you put it like that …’

Gilbert almost allowed himself to smile. It was the first time in many hours and it made his face hurt. ‘Come. We will return to my men and I will have a messenger dispatched to your wife.’

Once the arrangements had been put in place, Gilbert returned Fitzwalter to his men, bidding them help him disarm, and summoned Richard, his most senior sergeant. While he was waiting for the man to arrive he had his squire disarm him. All his muscles were screaming at him, and he wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep until tomorrow, but there were more important matters to attend to. Leaving the boy to sort out the bloodied armour and equipment, he satisfied himself with a draught of wine from a skin as he waited for Richard to arrive. When he appeared, Gilbert issued brisk instructions to him to send a party of men to the house in the Drapery, some to bring back Reginald’s body and some to stay and guard the house until the morrow. He also issued a command that a carpenter be commandeered in order to make a coffin as soon as possible.

Richard was a man of few words, but he took in all the instructions, nodded and turned to leave. Gilbert stopped him. ‘Oh, and while you’re about it, send someone to find young Edwin and bring him back here safely. I don’t want him getting in any more trouble.’

Looking at his sergeant’s departing back, Gilbert took a last swig from the wineskin, handed it to a nearby man, and set off to find John Marshal.

He encountered him on the other side of the cathedral, overseeing his men as they sorted through the piles of goods and treasure which he had evidently captured. He smiled thinly at Gilbert. ‘Maybe not enough to make up for being a bastard, but a pretty good haul all the same, eh?’

Gilbert ran his eyes over the goods. There was certainly plenty there, and a very small part of him wished he could have made similar gains. But he had been about more weighty matters, so there was no use sighing over it. He got straight to the point. ‘My lord, I crave your permission to leave the city tomorrow to return Reginald’s body to his family.’

Marshal nodded. ‘Of course.’

‘And if I may, I will take the man Edwin with me and return him to my lord the Earl of Surrey.’

Marshal thought for a moment and then nodded again, more slowly this time. ‘Yes. He has done well and deserves to return home in safety. And Warenne will no doubt do well out of this. I will ask my lord the Earl of Chester what message you may take to Warenne, but I would imagine that he will be welcome to join the king’s party once more.’

It still hurt his face, but he couldn’t help it. Gilbert smiled.

Edwin didn’t know who the man was, but he followed him anyway, and was rather dazed when he was led back to Sir Gilbert. He didn’t know what to think, but on facing the knight one thing was uppermost in his mind. His fingers slipped as he tried to loose the scabbard from his belt, but he managed it eventually and held the dagger out, the words tumbling from his lips. ‘It was his. He said he would leave it with me until after the fighting was over, but now I need to give it back, so you must have it.’

Sir Gilbert looked at him long and hard, but Edwin didn’t drop his gaze. ‘Please, take it from me.’ His hand was starting to shake.

The knight spoke. ‘No, you should keep it.’

Edwin opened his mouth but was forestalled. ‘I was his brother in arms, so his military fortune, which is not much, comes to me. The dagger is now mine, and I say you should keep it.’

Edwin stood, still holding the weapon out rather forlornly, but the knight took it from him and belted it back around his waist. ‘Keep it in remembrance of him, and of this day.’

Edwin nodded. There didn’t seem to be much else to say.

Sir Gilbert continued more briskly. ‘Now, tomorrow we will leave, and after returning Reginald’s body to his family we will travel to see your lord and tell him the news.’

‘News?’ Edwin’s mind was still dulled.

‘Yes, the news. You have succeeded in your task, the battle is won and the great lords are reconciled. The earl will no doubt be pleased and will wish to give you some reward.’

Edwin shook his head and thought of graves, and of missed opportunities. ‘There is nothing I need – nothing that he can bestow, anyway.’

‘Money? A home for your mother?’

Edwin hadn’t thought of that. A tiny shard of brightness pierced the clouds which were fogging his mind. Yes, he was alive and he would see his mother again. And …

Sir Gilbert seemed to have an uncanny knack for reading his thoughts today. ‘We’ll leave one hour after dawn, but perhaps you would like to be the one who goes down at first light to tell my men in the Drapery of this.’

Edwin tried to smile, but he didn’t think he’d ever be able to again.

She was surrounded by panicking women. Along with many others she’d fled southwards with as many of her possessions as she could carry, down to the river. There, many of the women had taken to boats, thinking they would be safe from attack once they were out on the water. But the river was fast flowing, and the boats were difficult to control as they span and eddied through the water. There were now soldiers fleeing the city, the French and their allies. She couldn’t believe how it had all gone so wrong. She and Gervase had thought there would be no chance of rescue so they’d happily sided with the invaders, hoping this would ensure them better treatment when they controlled the castle as well as the city. Indeed, they’d gone further and tried to stop those who wanted to work against the invaders. It hadn’t escaped her notice that Nicholas Holland was one of these, so she’d started to pay him special attention, bringing food for his family, letting him think that she might let her Gervase marry that daughter of his. She almost laughed at the thought – her beautiful boy allying himself with the likes of her! She wasn’t nearly good enough for him, and neither was anyone else. She alone knew him, knew what was best for him. But anyway, she was aware that Nicholas Holland and his cronies were up to something, but despite her best efforts at wheedling and cooking meals for his family, she couldn’t find out.

They’d grown more desperate; they couldn’t find out what the insurgents were doing, so they agreed on a secondary plan – at all costs they had to stop any message reaching the garrison. Gervase had killed the man who was to have been the contact and handed the body over to the French, and she herself had followed Nicholas that fateful night and had struck him down. But she hadn’t hit him hard enough and he’d survived long enough to pass the message on to his blasted children. Gervase had taken the boy Nick and they had tried their best to extract the information from him, but he was loyal to his father, damn him.

But what son wouldn’t be? She was so proud of hers. Her hope now was that they would both live through this day and that they could return to their lives in the city with nobody any the wiser. There would be opportunities in the ruined town for those clever enough to take them; together they would become rich and successful.

As she thought fondly of her son, she became aware that the boat was rocking dangerously. There was nobody in it who knew how to control it, and many of the other women were panicking and throwing themselves about, which was just making matters worse. She shouted at them to stop, but they were in the grip of terror and couldn’t hear her. She tried to hold on, but the boat swayed ever more dangerously and the shrieking rose in pitch. She started to panic and thrash about, hearing herself scream as she desperately tried to hold on to the boat and her bag of possessions at the same time. The rocking became more violent and finally the boat tipped up. She scrabbled frantically to hold onto the side but she couldn’t, and she was thrown into the cold water.