Lionheart's Scribe (5 page)

From then on it was easy. I led each horse onto the ship. They followed me like puppy dogs. The soldiers were most impressed, and I did my best not to limp. There were forty warhorses and two delicate palfreys that belong to Queen Joanna and the Princess Berengaria. That was how I found out that this is the ship they sail on.

When all the horses were loaded down in the bowels of the galley, I went from one to the other, reassuring them, seeing that they were well tethered and feeding them handfuls of grain. The motion of the ship, even though it was still moored, confused me at first. I stumbled a few times, but luckily no one seemed to notice. By the time Sebrand came to check on the horses I had accommodated myself and was walking fairly steadily.

They finished loading the ship. Shouts and commands from above decks and on shore told me they were about to cast off. Sebrand opened his mouth to speak and I knew he was going to order me ashore.

Suddenly, I knew I could not let them go without me.

“Let me stay,” I cried. The words burst out of me.

Sebrand frowned. I was just as surprised as he. I had had no intention at all of saying such a thing, but I couldn't stop myself. “You saw how I managed the horses,” I begged. “You see how I can care for them. Please. Let me go with you!” I staredat him and put all my heart into my eyes. I think I even stopped breathing.

He was silent for a long moment. Then, miraculously, he laughed.

“Well, why not?” he roared. “You're so small, we won't have to feed you much, and you are useful …” He frowned again. “You'll have to stay down here with the horses though,” he said. “Mind, I don't want to see you above decks while we're at sea. You'd get in the way for a certainty with that foot of yours.”

“Thank you,” I answered. Or at least I tried to. I choked on the words.

What had I done? But there was no time for second thoughts. I darted back up on deck and onto the dock. My pack was tucked away in the back of Vulgrin's stall. My journal, quills and inkhorn were in it and I always kept it with me for safety's sake. Vulgrin had not yet arrived. I helped myself to three of his finest skins, stuffed them in my pack as well, filled my inkhorn to the brim and stole two new quills. Then I raced back to the ship.

So here I am. Curled in a corner on a bed of straw, surrounded by forty warhorses and two palfreys. What will Vulgrin think when he realizes I have disappeared? I care not a whit. He'll probably be relieved to be rid of me. But possibly not. I did work hard for him—until the crusaders came anyway. He will be furious when he discovers the missing skins and quills.

Luckily I gave my goat to Mistress Matilde yesterday. I was feeling so wretched at the thoughtof the crusaders leaving and knew I would have no more use for the nanny, so I decided that Mistress Matilde might as well have her to keep on giving milk for her children and her cheeses. I suppose she is on a ship too, heading for the Holy Land.

Heading for the Holy Land. I still cannot truly believe it!

The smell is already very ripe down here though. The ship is rolling with the motion of the sea. I hear waves slapping against the sides. It is difficult to write, but I can manage. I must confess, my stomach does not like this at all. In fact, I think I must stop writing for I am about to be sick. Again. Perhaps I should not have been so disdainful of King Philip when he was seasick.

The twelfth day of April

This morning I heard from one of the other soldiers that Sebrand also was as sick as a dog and could not move from his pallet amidships. The opportunity was too good to miss. I determined that no matter how I felt, I would go up onto the deck and see what there was to see. Now that I am embarked on this great adventure I'm not going to miss a bit of it.

What a sight there was! I am still very ill and the ship is tossing so violently that I can barely write, but I must tell of this. I had a hard time dodging the sailors as they scrambled around the decks and the rigging. Some swore at me to get out of the way, but one of them was a bit more friendly and answered my questions when I dared to ask. Even he laughedat my open-mouthed awe, however, and I'm sure he thought me a great landlubberly fool.

There must be over two hundred ships in this fleet—galleys such as I have often seen in our harbor and other long, narrow warships that have a deadly look about them. Some of the ships have their prows coated with iron. For ramming, the sailor told me. All are being driven by oars as well as sails, and when I wondered why, he said it was to make the most speed possible at this beginning of our journey.

There are ships around us and behind us as far as the eye can see. The ocean is alive with them. King Richard's ship leads and his royal blue and gold pennant streams back in the wind. It is a dromond—the largest of the warships. The ship I am on is also a dromond and we follow close behind him. The rest follow us.

The wind blows hard, so strong that it nearly knocked me down. The deck is slippery with sea spray too, and I was forced to grab for handholds in order to keep upright. I was determined not to fall and make myself a laughingstock in front of the sailors.

Our ship is packed to the scuppers with men and supplies. There are the sailors who man the oars and the others who climb up the rigging like spiders to tend the sails. As well there are about forty knights and forty more soldiers from King Richard's army. The knights hold themselves apart from the ordinary soldiers, of course, and have taken over most of the stern of the ship. They were nowhere tobe seen when I was on deck. I imagine they were below, as sick as the rest of us. The soldiers sleep mostly on the deck and are fitted in as tightly as possible. Already there have been fights and brawls, and the scuppers are awash with vomit and filth. I think I am lucky to have only horses as companions.

The two noble ladies keep to their cabin. I wonder if they will come out at all on this voyage.

Men from the ships shout to each other constantly and blow trumpets in order to keep the vessels in touch. At night, I am told, a great lantern hangs from King Richard's masthead to serve as a guide to the rest.

I was particularly impressed by the oarsmen. They sit in the belly of the ship, pulling on the massive oars in time to a beat set by a boatsman, who stands before them with a huge drum. All the time I watched, their eyes never left him and they never missed a beat.

There was so much to see and take in. Too much. I have lived on an island with water around me all my life, yet never could I have imagined the vastness of this sea. Nothing but heaving waves, melting into a rolling, shifting horizon no matter which way I turned. It made me feel so small.

I took advantage of being on deck to vomit over the side instead of into the bilges where I sleep. Then I came back down here. Truly, this must be one of the greatest armadas ever assembled. And I am part of it. Sick to death, but part of it nonetheless.

The thirteenth day of April

It is Good Friday. We were told that the priests would say mass on deck and we could all attend, but a storm has come up and the ship is rolling and pitching so violently that we are unable to do so. I managed to get as far as the top of the ladder, but then a blast of spray sent me sprawling back down. The wind howls through the rigging. No man can possibly be heard from one ship to another now, no matter how loudly he shouts or blows his trumpet. Nor can the crews see each other through the driving rain. How will we ever stay together?

The fifteenth day of April

Easter Sunday. We are still being battered by the storm. It is impossible for any except the sailors who have to control the ship to go up on deck, so now King Richard's men are packed in around me and the horses. At first the soldiers were rowdy and noisy, but they have grown quieter and quieter. They huddle in every available spot, retching. The only other sound to be heard from them is a weak curse now and then. Sebrand came below, swearing, and told us we have lost sight of the other ships. The priests have also managed to make their way amongst us and have exhorted us to pray to the risen Lord who walked on water and stilled the storm.

When will He still this one? Surely the ship cannot take much more. The sea pours in and the bilges swim with water. The horses are terrified, as am I. But I cannot cower in a corner this time. There are several other men assigned to care for the horses aswell as me, and it takes all of us to keep the animals from stampeding and kicking each other and the men around them to death. The soldiers are very much in the way and a nuisance. The smell of vomit and excrement, both human and animal, is so foul that I try not to breathe. Indeed, the air is so bad that it is hard to do so. It feels like trying to breathe through a thick, stinking broth.

I am certain I will never be able to read what I now write. The ink sloshes and spills out of the horn with every lurch of the ship and I have broken two quills. At least the men around me are too ill to wonder at what I am doing, scribbling away here.

I am trying not to think that this might be the end of us all. And so soon! I haven't seen anything yet.

The seventeeth day of April

The storm has died down. This morning the wind dropped. I thought we were safe and I was starting to care for the horses, even though the ship was still tossing in the waves, when I heard the sailors making a great hue and cry. There was a great deal of running back and forth above deck. Finally I heard the sound of the anchor being dropped. As soon as the soldiers heard that they raced to climb the ladders onto the deck. I was tempted to join them but the horses needed tending and the others who were supposed to do it had deserted as well, so I fed the animals and did my best to keep my feet under me and to calm them. Then I finally scrambled up the ladder to have a look. All the soldiers and sailors were crowded at the railings, gawking, but I managed to squeeze between them and find a space for myself.

We are anchored in a small bay. I could see land with white cliffs and a beach not far off. Just to one side of us the sea crashes into a wall of jagged boulders. It seems we narrowly missed being driven onto them. I shuddered as I looked at the foam-crested waves all hurling themselves onto the rocks. I could just imagine the ship breaking up like kindling wood in that chaos. That would have been the end of us all, I'm certain. I asked the sailor beside me where we were, but he just shrugged.

“You mean you don't know?” I insisted.

He scowled at me so fiercely I did not dare ask anything further. But from the murmurings around me, and the uncertain looks on the men's faces, I could tell that
no one
knew where we were. Worse, not one other ship has come into sight. We are completely lost and alone.

Just before I came back down below deck I saw Queen Joanna. Princess Berengaria has not stirred from her cabin, but Queen Joanna came out of her quarters at the stern of the ship and stood at the railing for a short time. I knew it was she because of her hair. It was as golden and shining as King Richard's. Princess Berengaria, I hear, is dark-haired. The queen was holding a shawl closely wrapped around her shoulders and gazing toward the land. She is a stately lady and would be very beautiful if she looked not so pale and worried.

The eighteenth day of April

All has been quiet. Too quiet. It seems strange that no one has come out to us from the land. We can see a town in the distance and the people there must surely see us, but none have made any effort to contact us.

Sebrand has been ordered to go ashore in a boat with a few of his most trusted men. I know which boat he will take. It is quite large and there is a cover all bundled up at one end. Just enough of a cover to conceal a boy. I burn with curiosity to know what country we have landed in and what is going on here. I wonder if I dare …

The twentieth day of April

What a tale I have to tell today! I will have to sharpen my quill extra well for this long story.

Well before dawn this morning I screwed up my courage and crept to the boat that Sebrand would be using to go ashore. I was determined to hide myself in it and see for myself where we were. I was fairly certain that I could get away with this scheme.

I had to step over several sleeping bodies to get there and I accidentally trod on one soldier's hand. For a moment I froze with fear, but all he did was grunt and roll over. I suppose the men get used to being stepped on, sleeping on the deck as they do. When I reached the boat I glanced quickly around to make certain that no one was watching, then, as fast as I could, I clambered over the side and hid myself under the canvas in the bow. Just in time too, as no sooner had I pulled the cover over methan I heard the sailor on watch tramp by. He didn't seem as concerned as I had been about avoiding the sleeping men. A whole chorus of yelps and oaths followed his path.

As I lay there in the dark waiting, my stomach tied itself in knots again, but not with seasickness this time, for I'm over that now. This time it was fear—Sebrand has been friendly to me but he allowed me to come on board only if I stayed out of the way. If he caught me in this escapade he would most certainly be furious. The consequences of what I was doing did not bear thinking of, so I didn't. Instead I concentrated on burrowing in as tightly as I could, strewing ropes and other bits and pieces over me. I chose things with sharp edges so that no one would be tempted to sit on me.

I had a very bad time of it while they hoisted the boat and lowered it overboard. In fact, when it hit the water I was bounced around so much that I nearly cried out. The sharp and pointy objects strewn on top of me proved to be a mistake. They poked through the canvas and I have a mass of cuts and bruises to show for it. I don't care, however, because my plan worked.

Once the boat was launched two sailors leaped in to man the oars. Sebrand and two of his fellow soldiers lumbered in after them. I could hear them cursing and swearing as they stumbled around in the rocking boat. Finally all were organized and the sailors settled in to rowing. It was only a short haul to the beach, and as the seas had calmed somewhat they soon ground the prow on the shore. Then I had amoment of panic. What if the sailors remained with the boat? At that point I heard Sebrand's voice: “Be back before noonday. We'll return to the ship then.”