The Illegitimate Tudor

by James M Stuart

  ‘AFTER HIM!’ the captain yelled and then approached us arrogantly, his hands behind his back and his chin up, a sense of authority and satisfaction was written all over his face. ‘We’ll catch your coward friend, don’t worry! He cannot ride very far, not in this crowd.’

  I frowned but said nothing, for I was confident that Aeron had not ridden away because he was a coward… Nevertheless, the captain did not seem to be very concerned about this, a mistake that he would later pay dearly…

  ‘Well, well, well, Belfrigh the Valiant. Been chasing you for a while, haven’t we? Oh, the rewards I’ll receive for handing you in,’ the captain said grinning. ‘They might even promote me to General!’

  ‘You mean if you survive the night, Rogers!’ Belfrigh said smirking.

  I was appalled, I could not believe our bad luck. Not only we had run into the City Guard, but their captain had recognised Belfrigh, whilst he seemed to know him too.

  Captain Rogers laughed. ‘My chances are greater than yours and your companions’, Belfrigh… Whatever happens to Rome tonight, your time is up!’ he smiled maliciously. ‘Well, then, it’s time we were on our way,’ he said and turned towards his comrades. ‘Men! Gather round the new recruits. As for these scum…’ he said pointing his finger at us. ‘Tie their hands, and I want at least four men guarding them closely as we return to the barracks. MOVE!’

  So, we did, but not in the direction we wanted to. Instead of moving away from the fight, we were approaching it, and as things stood, we would soon be locked up in a cell waiting for our fate to be determined by those who might as well be dead in a few hours when the city was sacked.

  Two soldiers were guarding each of us as we made our way back towards the city centre, and at least another twenty all around us. Our weapons were all stack in a bag which was hanging from one side of the saddle of my horse. With no weapons and surrounded by armed, seasoned in battle, men, it was practically impossible to escape. Nevertheless, I was not going to give up, and I was continually searching for an escape route; my mind working endlessly as was Belfrigh’s no doubt. More than once I attempted to communicate with him with no success, though, as we were separated by our guards. Belfrigh was well ahead, almost next to the captain and I could see that they were conversing, although I could not hear the context of their wording.

  I was somewhat curious to know about the suspicious acquaintance the two of them. Was the captain part of Belfrigh’s mysterious past? Was he, maybe, the reason why he became an outlaw? Whatever the answers to those questions, it mattered little at that moment as we were both captives by the losing side of a besieged city and we were sure to die sooner or later unless we found a way to escape.

  We reached the barracks quite fast, despite the chaotic state in the streets. Then, we were guided underground and into the dark dungeons, where they shoved us into separate cells. ‘You will wait here in silence,’ Captain Rogers said as his men locked the iron doors in our stinky and unnaturally small cells.

  ‘Wait for what, you fool?’ Belfrigh asked. ‘The city will fall. And we’re all going to perish. You’d do better to release us, and we might as well help you with your defence.’ His lie was convincing enough this time.

  Captain Rogers shrugged. ‘Release you? Help us in our defence? Are you jesting with me? You, yourself told me we were all doomed. What’s the difference then for you? If you’re so certain we shall all be slaughtered… What’s the difference in being here or out on the battlefield?’ he asked and turned to leave, but Belfrigh was raging now.

  ‘You know very well the difference, Rogers,’ Belfrigh spat at him, whilst grabbing the iron bars of his cell door as if trying to break them with his bare hands. ‘You’re a warrior as I am, and it makes all the difference in the world to die in battle with a sword in your hand, knowing that you did everything in your power to defend yourself and the people you love than be slaughtered weaponless in a dump cell like a common thief. Where’s the honour in that?’ Belfrigh concluded. The passion with which he spoke had always inspired me. That was a man to die next to in the battle.

  Captain Rogers turned slowly and eyed his six men. ‘Leave us!’ he commanded. It was the three of us alone, now. The only source of light was the blazing torch Captain Rogers was holding, with shadows dancing around on the slimy walls, making our surroundings eerie. He then approached Belfrigh and gave him a look of utmost disgust.

  ‘You dare speak of honour?’ the captain thundered, switching abruptly to English. ‘You who abandoned your brothers in the battlefield… You who betrayed us all to the enemy for some coin… You who left my sister… And you who spent the following decade thieving and fighting against the men you once called brothers, weakening their position in the city from within.’ It was the captain’s turn to get moody, and his remarks were quite strong. Belfrigh’s face shrug in pain with every accusation, as if he was being slapped. Rogers was shaking with rage and contempt, brandishing his arms as if ready to attack Belfrigh.

  ‘Sir Belfrigh the Valiant!’ the captain sneered, and I was left in awe. Sir Belfrigh? ‘You are a little man Belfrigh, you are a man without a heart. You are a coward and a traitor. You do not deserve to be called a knight. You violated the Code of Chivalry ages ago. You are vermin and deserve to die with the most painful way to pay for your sins. And mark my words, scum… If we survive this night, I guarantee you the most agonising death,’ he said and took a few steps closer to him, bringing them so close to each other that their noses were almost touching. ‘I-will-destroy-you!’ he whispered to him most threateningly, spat at his feet and walked away leaving Belfrigh stoned-faced and was it possible? Close to tears…

  I looked at him as if for the first time in my life. My captain, my role model, the man who had found me and given me a purpose in my exile… Was it possible that he was a man capable for all those horrible deeds Captain Rogers had claimed? A coward and a traitor? A betrayer of friends and family? I felt hollow inside me, similar to what I had felt when I had watched my mother die. This time, though, my sorrow was because of betrayal, not of loss, although I did feel as if I had lost a father, for it was not possible that I should admire a man so pitiless and heartless. A man who would use any means to acquire wealth…

  Yet he had agreed to come with me to England and assist me on my route to vengeance… Or was it because he dreamed of unspeakable riches as he had supposedly lied to our companions? Was that his real incentive, potential coin? Surely the revelations about his past proved exactly that. That was the logical explanation. However, my heart refused to accept it, and as I now looked at him lying on the floor of his filthy cell, his knees gathered closely to his chest, his head bent down, obscured by his long, tangled grey hair, shivering... I felt pity, as surely the state of him betrayed signs of remorse for whatever he had done. Therefore, I could not possibly let myself believe every word, every accusation Captain Rogers had made for him, and although Belfrigh had not contradicted him, I was certain that there was more to it than what had been said. I thus decided to wait for Belfrigh’s side of the story to form an opinion... That was of course if ever the opportunity arose, for now, we had more burning matters to think of, and I had to pull myself together and think of something to get us out of there, or we would surely perish…

  *

  Hours seemed to pass in the dark without anything remarkable happening. Countless times I made an effort to speak to Belfrigh with no response, and so it had fallen down on me to find an escape plan. However, my mind was as solid as the walls of my cell. How were we supposed to escape? There was nothing we could use to help us unlock the doors, and even the guards had gone away taking the only keys with them. We knew nothing of the state of affairs in the city. Was it possible that it had fallen already? And where the hell was Aeron? All these questions encircled me, but I was refusing to give up, refusing to accept that my fate was to die in a stinking dungeon. Yet as thirst and hunger started to take over me, I was beginning to feel helpless and powerless… And
tired… So very tired…

  ‘It’s your fault, Edward! You’re the one responsible!’ said a young woman’s voice.

  ‘No, Margot, no! ’Tis not, I tried! I did!’ I replied to her in despair, warm tears dripping down my cheeks.

  She was standing right in front of me with her arms outstretched, full of open wounds; her outfit showing big blood stains in her otherwise magnificent white dress; whilst her blonde hair hung limply on her shoulders, without the usual freshness; her eyes were bloodshot and filled with tears.

  ‘Look what you’ve done, Edward!’ she cried. ‘They wanted YOU, not me, not my poor husband-to-be, not our family… YOU! You are the cursed one, the one who always caused trouble… You are an OUTSIDER, and you deserve to die here alone…

  ‘NOOOO!’

  ‘Shut your mouth, Ed! You’ll attract attention!’

  I shook my head; still dizzy from my last vision I was not aware of my surroundings. I clutched my head and pressed my palms to my eyes so hard that I started seeing little stars.

  ‘ED! ED! You all right, mate?’

  I looked up. There was no source of light around, but after hours in the dark, my eyes had adjusted themselves and so I could distinguish a tall silhouette which spoke with the voice of Aeron. I stood up abruptly, exhilarated.

  ‘What took you so long?’ I scolded him, but I was grinning with happiness. That was the reason Aeron had fled, so he could come and rescue us later, for he knew that if all three of us had been caught, our chances to escape would have been slim.

  ‘I was rather busy fighting bloody soldiers you know,’ he said seriously.

  ‘What soldiers?’ I inquired curiously. ‘You mean Captain Rogers’ men?’

  ‘You can’t tell the difference anymore…’

  ‘What d’you mean?’

  ‘The city walls have been breached, Ed. Rome is being sacked as we speak! Chaos prevails. We need to hurry!’ Aeron seemed shaken, and there was something in his eyes I had never seen before… Fear! He definitely had a good reason to be afraid, as it was known that the horrors of a city being sacked were unspeakable and only those who had experienced it could truly say how it felt; but from what I had heard it was havoc. Men behave like beasts when it comes to loot, and if one comes between them and their plunder, they will not separate friend from foe.

  ‘Quick, then! You have the keys?’

  ‘I do indeed. Step back,’ he said jiggling them in front of me and unlocked the rusty lock in the door. No sooner had he finished taking out the key that I had leapt outside, feeling the cool breeze of freedom.

  ‘Belfrigh, com’on!’ I urged him, but he did not stir. Instead, he continued lying on the ground, on the far-left corner of the cell, clutching his knees close to his body, in the exact same position as he had been hours ago when Captain Rogers had accused him of being all those unspeakable things.

  ‘What’s wrong with him?’ Aeron asked.

  ‘He… Ah…’ I hesitated. ‘He’s just exhausted,’ I finally said, but Aeron narrowed his eyes suspiciously, and so I added: ‘Doesn’t matter now, does it? We need to get out of here.’

  Aeron nodded. ‘Belfrigh, get up!’

  ‘What’s the point?’ he finally spoke. ‘The city’s fallen, didn’t you say? We’re as good as dead.’

  ‘No! There’s still time,’ Aeron argued. ‘Bloody hell, Belfrigh! We can fight our way through the city and escape from the South as we’d initially planned. All we need is faith,’ he said and withdrew a wooden cross from within his chest-plate armour and kissed it.

  I grimaced. Faith was good, but without skill and a little bit of luck, we would never get far. ‘Have you got our weapons?’ I asked hopefully.

  ‘Aye! All here,’ he responded and patted the bag which was hanging from his right shoulder. ‘Funny you’re still wearing your armour.’

  ‘Yeah, well, they didn’t bother with that. So long as we didn’t have any weapons upon us,’ I said whilst extracting my small dagger and longsword from the bag, feeling relieved that they had not been lost. ‘Belfrigh, get up! We’ve no time to lose. Or do you wish to remain here and doom yourself?

  Belfrigh did not answer straight away but seemed to consider it. He looked so dispirited and tired as if he had aged another ten years in the last few hours. In the end, he stood up and made for the bag to retrieve his own weapons: a longsword, a longbow and its quiver. ‘We won’t get far, I’m telling you, there’s no use,’ he said while sheathing his sword.

  ‘There’s little hope, but hope nonetheless,’ Aeron contradicted him. ‘Good God!’ Aeron was astounded by Belfrigh’s behaviour, but I could not venture on that as we had to make haste.

  ‘Com’on!’ I urged them, and with arms and legs still numb after hours of stillness, we exited the dungeons and emerged into the pandemonium of the City of Rome, which for the third time in history was being sacked…

  It was the first time, though, in more than a thousand years that the Eternal City had fallen into enemy hands. Rome had been sacked for the first time in the year of our Lord 410 by the Visigoths, a tribe of Western Europe, which spanned through the areas that are now the Kingdoms of Spain and France; and the second time in 455 by the Vandals, an Eastern European tribe. Both tribes brought destruction and havoc to the city, and they almost burned it to the ground. It is said that they were all barbarians, uncivilised people of the ancient world; however, little was the difference between them and the imperial troops of the Holy Roman Empire. The civilisation was nowhere to be seen, only beasts disguised as men, carrying swords and lighting torches bringing the Holy City to its knees mercilessly… Burning, stealing, killing and raping.

  Thus, I drew Defier ready to enter the battle, though I did not know where to aim. There was so much confusion that I could hurt anybody, innocent or not. I lowered my sword and looked around in awe. Never had I seen something similar in my life… Absolute mayhem. For a moment, I felt numb. The whole street was ablaze. Houses, inns, shops… All consumed by fire. The suffocating smoke closing on us, making it difficult to breathe. With eyes watering I felt as if in a dream, a nightmare. It was Hell on Earth…

  People running hopelessly, whether civilians or not I could not tell, although the townspeople were most definitely weaponless. Women screaming; children crying in despair calling for their mothers; men, some trying to defend themselves and their families, others attempting to save their own souls. There were already lots of corpses lying on the muddy ground, some of them severed, with spilt guts or mutilated limbs... More and more people were dropping dead second after second, all dying in agony begging God to save them the pain and deliver them to Heaven. It was a massacre, and I have never been more afraid in my life.

  ‘Jesus Christ save us!’ I prayed.

  ‘Told you! It’s mental out here,’ said Aeron breathing heavily. ‘We need to head south immediately and try to avoid any confrontations. With little luck, we can pass unnoticed in this craziness,’ he suggested.

  ‘No!’ blurted Belfrigh. ‘We need to help those people,’ he said pointing towards the helpless citizens that were rushing here and there screaming, whilst soldiers were either gutting them or setting their houses on fire. Some of them still resisted, but there was no use, the city was overrun by the imperial troops and whoever fell behind was slaughtered or in the case of women, first raped and then killed.

  ‘YOU CRAZY?’ shouted Aeron exasperated. ‘What’s got into you? We-need-to-go,’ he emphasised every word.’

  ‘I said, NO!’ yelled Belfrigh. ‘I shan’t leave them again… We need to help the innocent. Rescue those we can,’ he said with passion.

  Aeron looked at him and then at me lost for words, but I understood. There was apparently some truth in Captain Rogers accusations about Belfrigh’s betrayal. So, I deduced that something had awakened inside him and he wanted to make amends and prove that he was no coward. However, now was not the time to act like heroes as I did not wish to join the dead. That was not my fate! I was destined
to go back to England and avenge the death of my parents and sisters, and I was determined to see to it, no matter the cost.

  ‘It appears we have reached an impasse then, Belfrigh,’ I said suddenly, and both him and Aeron looked at me sceptically.

  ‘What do you mean to say, lad? You would leave without me?’ Belfrigh said looking angry.

  ‘What’s the reason for your surprise, sir,’ I said ironically, my patience being tested.

  ‘I am no sir!’

  ‘Well, apparently you were, some time ago,’ I pressed. ‘You never confided that to us, maybe it was wise, maybe foolish, but I will tell you this, I will not stand by and be slaughtered because your pride has been wounded and you suddenly wish to make amends for mistakes you’ve made in your past. Look at the present, Belfrigh,’ I argued and outstretched my arms indicating the deranged city.

  ‘I-’ but he did not get the chance to speak his mind, for at that moment a group of imperial troops some with swords others with crossbows at hand, had finally spotted us. They wasted no time and merely attacked with savage confidence. It was a dozen of them against three of us. Good odds, four to one.

  They all came at once, not aiming for anyone specifically, just brandishing their swords, whilst two of them had double-edged battle-axes and tried to kill us swiftly. Despite being locked in a cell for hours with my muscles numb and sleepy, my mind seemed to work just fine and made my reflexes extra sensitive, as they usually were when in battle. And so, the battle-rush was back again.

  I felt exhilaration as I ducked avoiding an axe from severing my head and slashed the two exposed legs of my first attacker, cutting through his thighs, bringing him down and running my sword through his neck splashing my face with hot, thick blood. Then I dodged again, away from my second attacker, who thought he was the hunter and I the prey. Our longswords clashed, and we danced the fencing dance for a few moments, parrying his blows with ease, putting as much pressure on my sword as I would dare, although I knew it would not break, for I had forged it with the best metals. The same could not be said for my opponent’s sword, though, which shuttered after a few of my hard two-handed attacks. He then unsheathed a small knife and I laughed in his face, severed his extended wrist and slit his belly open, piercing through his armour and spilling his guts out after I withdrew my sword. He eventually collapsed on the ground and died in agony.