The Alchemist's Revenge

by Martin Archer

  Not many people were on the streets, probably because of the heat more than anything else. At first the people we saw along the way were friendly, and we even got a few waves and smiles. That changed after a while. Sergeant Thomas said it was because we left the quarter where the Empress and the city’s good people lived with their Latin priests. I did not know what he meant, and I did not want to reveal my ignorance by asking him.

  There was a noticeable difference in the responses of the people we met as we got deeper and deeper into the city—the initial smiles were replaced by scowls and several times angry young men shouted and made insulting gestures at us.

  We ignored the hostile young men, but not entirely; the captain told several sergeants that, even though we would not be stopping, if someone threw something at us, they were to try to put an arrow into him. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, nothing actually happened. It meant that once again I had no opportunity to distinguish myself.

  Our beards and tunics were dripping with sweat and we were extremely thirsty by the time we reached the market. It was the middle of a very hot afternoon without a cloud in the sky.

  The captain and I immediately began walking around the outside of the market and posting guards at each of its entrances. It, the market, was partially walled and quite large with many narrow roofed aisles running between roofed stalls. There were cats and merchants everywhere, but very few customers, probably because of the heat. We walked in the shade wherever possible.

  Merchants, at least I think they were merchants, came up to us as soon as we arrived and began pointing and gobbling away at us with big smiles. At first, we had no idea what they were saying and shrugged. That changed quickly when more merchants arrived. Some of them could gobble crusader French even though the market was located in one of the Orthodox quarters and did not serve the port.

  “My friends and I are happy the Empress sent you here to protect us. We only want peace, but some of the bad young people in this quarter are looking for trouble. Where are you from?”

  We quickly became the new best friends of many of the merchants, especially when the captain opened his coin pouch and began buying food and drink for the men.

  Chapter Six

  A long night.

  It was a long hot night. The troubles started as soon as the sun was finishing the day and darkness began to fall. The tension in the air continued to grow as it got darker and a bit cooler, and so did the number of people in the market and the unrest in the streets that surrounded it. It was better than standing in the sun, but still damn hot.

  Entire families with their children and whatever of their possessions they could carry began arriving to seek a place where they would be safe. Others came to do their normal shopping in the evening when the air was not so hot.

  Flickering candles and candle lanterns appeared in almost every merchant’s stall as if by magic. Except for a few candles we could see in wall openings above the street and a couple of cooking fires, it was totally dark in the streets around the market.

  The market became increasingly crowded with refugees and did not close at its normal time. To the contrary, it got more and more crowded as the evening progressed. The smell of smoke was in the air and we could increasingly hear shouting and noise coming from the city outside the market. Many of the merchants and their helpers were armed and visibly displayed their weapons. A surprising number of them had wood-chopping axes laid out for all to see.

  Many of the merchants, or so we were told by a merchant who said he was a Jew, were Orthodox-praying Greek gobblers. To a man, however, the Greek merchants went out of their way to profess great love and undying admiration for someone called the Empress “even though I am a traditional Christian, of course.”

  We did not have a clue as to who they were talking about and merely nodded our agreement. Our translator was nowhere to be found; it was the Jew who stayed near us and told us what the others said.

  Most of the market’s merchants either stayed all night to guard their stalls or left their helpers to guard them so they could go home to guard their families. Other of the merchants brought their families to the market so they could guard them both. They all seemed quite conflicted and uncertain as to how best to save their goods and protect their families.

  The only exceptions were some of the sellers of gold, silver, and jewellery; they disappeared and took their goods with them. It was almost like magic; one moment they were all there and the next moment they were all gone. It seems they had contracted for one of our galleys and had suddenly decided to go on board with their families and wares.

  Those of the merchants who knew how to gobble with us seemed compelled to seek out the captain. They did so both to complain about one thing or another, and to try to find out what he could tell them about the on-coming war with the Greek army. They seemed quite surprised when Jack said he knew nothing about the Greek army or when it might appear, and even more surprised when he told them it did not really matter when the Greeks showed up.

  “It matters not. We be archers and anyone who attacks an archer gets killed most terrible. That is how it always has been. There are no exceptions. It is in the Company’s contract on which we all made our marks.”

  Some of the individual merchants employed additional guards and so did the merchant organizations of several sections of the market, the linen merchants and butchers in particular.

  The guards were, for the most part, however, even more useless than the merchants’ helpers. That was particularly true of the club-carrying men from the protection gangs of the nearby Orthodox churches. They apparently had been collecting money to “protect” the merchants in the market for some years, but they suddenly disappeared just before sun went down when the priests sent messengers calling them to come and help protect the churches instead. At least that is what the merchants told us as they were leaving.

  I knew about the “disappearing guards” because the merchants were irate about their sudden departure and came to me and the captain to complain. They wanted us to send messengers to the churches demanding that they return to do what they had been paid to do. As you might imagine, we told them “that galley has sailed” and did nothing.

  And, as we were later told by our axe-man translator who had suddenly reappeared, most of the disappearing guards had gone off to join the rioters and looters as their priests said God required.

  ****** Chosen man Wat Bargee

  We had a hot march to a partially walled market on the other side of the city. Once we got there, however, it was easy duty whilst the sun was shining and for a few hours afterwards. My mates and I were assigned to guard one of the entrances to the market. As a result, we mostly sat around in the shade and yarned.

  It was too hot by half, but quite enjoyable to be able to sit around instead of working. I put new feathers on one of my arrows whilst we yarned and told each other stories and lies about what we had seen and heard. And it got even better when my best mate, Billy Hansen, took a piece of cheese from his pouch and began breaking little pieces of it off and throwing them to the cats. We laughed when the cats snarled and hissed at each other as they tried to be the first to chase after them and pounce on them.

  And, as you might imagine, old Jerry Prevo who mumbled prayers out loud all the time did his usual; he got a copper coin off each of us and sneaked away for a couple of hours, and then staggered back filled with wine and carrying a full skin which he promptly shared. Sergeant Taylor pretended he did not see him go and then did his usual by drinking more than his share of the wine. It was a nice red with a good taste.

  All the while as we watched and talked, families carrying little children and whatever they could carry continued to stream into the market and settle themselves wherever they could find an open space on which to squat. They seemed wary as they came past us and some of them gobbled at us as they did.

  We could not understand what they were saying, of course, so we just pointed to where they were to
go and made shooing motions. It seemed to work.

  Everything changed about two hours after it got dark. Smoke began drifting into the market and we could hear shouting and other noises in the distance. Suddenly, a whole mob of people carrying their children and all kinds of other possessions began running down the street towards the market entrance where we were posted.

  No one said a word, but we all got our feet and began checking our bows to make sure they were properly strung. I pulled out an arrow and nocked it, and so did a couple of my mates.

  The relief on the people’s faces when they reached us was clear. We could see it by the flickering light of the two candle lanterns Lieutenant Evans had brought us just before it got dark. The new arrivals looked frightened and uncertain, but seemed quite pleased when we waved them on into the market and pointed towards where they were to go to settle themselves.

  Sergeant Taylor got increasingly anxious, particularly when a man with blood on his head staggered past us carrying a child. Twice he said the same thing.

  “String your bows, lads. The buggers look to be coming.”

  It was an unnecessary order. Not only was my bow strung, I had an arrowed nocked and so did all of my mates by then.

  Our basic problem was simple. The light from the candle lanterns lit us and identified the entrance to the market for anyone coming towards us; it also attracted entire companies of flying bugs. We, on the other hand, could not see who was approaching until they were right on top of us.

  “Sergeant, maybe we should carry one or both of those lanterns down the street a ways and hang it up somewhere to backlight any buggers who come down it. Then we could push our arrows at them before they reach us.”

  I made the suggestion and it changed my life.

  “Well then, Wat, that is what you should do.”

  He said it sarcastically just as Lieutenant Evans and a couple of men appeared out of the darkness.

  “Do what, Sergeant Taylor?”

  The sergeant told him.

  “Do you think you could do it, Wat?” Lieutenant Evans asked. He looked at me closely as he did.

  “Oh aye lieutenant, I could do it if a couple of men with swords and shields could come with me to guard my back if there be close-up fighting whilst I be finding a place to hang them.”

  ******

  A few minutes later I was carrying two candle lanterns and walking warily out of the market towards the darkened street that opened into the market. In other words, I was walking towards the noise of the looting and rioting because I had talked too much. Two of my mates were with me, Andy Salt and Long John Ander’s son from Shrewsbury. They were carrying swords and galley shields in addition to their long bows and quivers.

  We did not have to go too far to reach the buildings along the street on the far side of the little open area in front of the market entrance. Even so, I got so scared I almost pissed on myself when I suddenly realized we had walked up to within a few feet of a group of people who standing against the wall of the building nearest to the market entrance. It was the best place to hang the lanterns because they would backlight anyone coming out of the darkened street and moving towards the market.

  After my initial fright, and when I held up both lanterns even higher, I could see the vague outlines of a man and woman. They were both carrying something, probably a child and their bedding, and standing silent and unmoving against the building. On the whole, as I realized after I got over my initial fright at seeing them, they seemed to be even more frightened by us walking towards them than we were of finding them silently standing so near to us.

  I held up the lanterns so they could better see my face and motioned with a nod of my head towards the market. At the same time I quietly said “you can go.” They immediately began hurrying towards the market so maybe they could understand the crusader French gobbled by me and my mates.

  The whole idea of having to fight in the dark was scary as hell. I always knew it would be better to stand off and use our longbows to shoot down anyone who might want to kill us; now I knew it for sure.

  My problem was that I was damn near blind because I was carrying two lit candle lanterns Lieutenant Evans had “borrowed” from a couple of merchants. The light of the lanterns made it easy for me to see where I was putting my feet down, but hard for me to see ahead. At the same time, the light from the lanterns made it as easy as eating a chicken pie for everyone up ahead with a weapon to see me coming.

  Knowing that everyone could see me, and I could not see them, made me quite uncomfortable, I can tell you that. So I began holding the lanterns as high and as far out in front of me as possible in an effort to see further ahead. It helped, but not much.

  Andy and John walked on either side of me. They were carrying swords and shields, and had them at the ready. Andy was carrying two swords, his own in its sheath and mine in his hand. Not that I planned to take the sword from Andy and use it if anyone came at us out of the dark, that was for damn sure. To the contrary, I had already decided to drop the lanterns and run back to the market like the devil himself was chasing me if anything happened—and I damn near did just that when I first saw the people huddled against the wall.

  We walked slowly and listened carefully as we crossed over the open space between the market and the nearest building whose dim outline we could see in the moonlight. It was dark that we could not see anything and so silent that you could have heard a feather drop. Several times people must have seen the light from the lanterns I was carrying, or heard us coming, because we could hear when the sound of their approaching footsteps stopped or began backing up.

  It actually did not take very long to reach the building across from the market entrance. It just seemed that way because we were going so fearful-like. But we made it; and then we were stopped because the first door we reached was barred—we could not get inside to hang the lanterns high enough so they could not be reached and blown out.

  At first, no one came when I rapped on the door with the handle of my belt knife. But I kept it up because the shuttered wall opening about eight feet above the door looked like the best place to hang one of the lanterns.

  Finally a voice shouted down from above us. But we could not understand a word of what he said. It was probably either “who are you” or “go away.” Maybe it was both.

  “Run back and get one of the Greek gobbling merchants to come tell the man up there that all we want to do is hang a couple of lanterns to help light the street—and that if he does not open the door we will batter it in and kill everyone. I mean it so bring an axe when you come back.”

  I gave the order to Andy because he only had one stripe whereas John had two and did not have to do what I told him.

  Chapter Seven

  We place our lanterns.

  Whilst John and I waited impatiently for Andy to return, we could hear shouts and other noises in the distance. We were also periodically startled when we saw the dim shapes of people coming past us on their way to seek shelter in the market. What was worrisome was that they inevitably saw us due to the light from the candle lanterns we were holding before we saw them. In other words, we would have been shite out of luck if they had been carrying weapons and wanted to take us down.

  The people who came upon us did not know who we might be and inevitably took no chances—some of them warily came past us by walking on the other side of the dark and narrow street, others turned down a narrow side alley with the idea of going around us to another entrance. The rest either froze and did not move until the saw someone get safely past us, or they turned around and went back the way they had come.

  In the distance, as we stood there, the noise of shouting voices was growing louder and seemed to be coming closer. It might have been my imagination, but I thought there was also more smoke and noise in the air.

  Somehow, and it is hard to explain, waiting in the dark was both comforting and worrisome. What was worrisome was that someone could see the lanterns and come out of
the dark and attack me; what was comforting was that I could put the lanterns down and take a few steps into the dark and not be seen. And that was exactly what I did; I put them down and stepped away from them. I was so scared I was shaking and there was no getting around it.

  Andy finally came back with one of our auxiliaries and an axe with a short wooden handle. He had not been gone long, but to John and I it seemed forever. In the lantern light I could see the auxiliary was seriously worried and became even more afraid when I made a “give me” motion and he handed me the axe he had been carrying. I felt the same way; I myself was not exactly in the mood to break into one of the Company’s marching songs.

  “One of the merchants told this man what you wanted him to say. I think he understands,” Andy said.

  “I damn well hope so,” I muttered as I took the axe and instinctively hefted it to get a sense of its weight. Then I handed it to Andy to hold.

  A few moments later I once again pounded on the door with the handle of my personal knife. This time I did it louder and harder. If at all possible, I wanted to get into the upper room without having to destroy the door. That way we could close and bar it behind us.

  There was no answer. But I knew someone was in there so I kept pounding and pounding. I was determined because it was by far the best place to hang the lanterns. But to do so we needed to get to the wall opening in a room above door, and the lanterns had to be low enough to backlight anyone on the street and high enough so no one could reach them to blow them out or knock them down.

  Finally the same man’s voice spoke out to us from above. I could not see him, but he was almost certainly standing in wall opening above the street, exactly where I wanted to place the lanterns. The man’s initial message was clear even though I could not understand the words—go away.