The Alchemist's Revenge
Page 37
There have been several close calls. For example, the scholars responsible for the words in these pages almost stopped writing when Henry the Eighth had the heads chopped off several of them because they suggested that the Company had prospered in its early years as a result of its relationship with the Pope. A memorial to them can be found in the Tom Quad of Christ Church College. Inquire at the porter’s lodge just inside the tower gate.
There are more books in The Company of Archers Saga.
All of the books in this great medieval saga are available as individual eBooks, and some of them are also available in print and as audio books and multi-book collections. You can find them by searching for Martin Archer stories. The first book in the saga is The Archers if you wish to read the stories in order.
A bargain-priced collection of all of first six books of the saga is available as The Archers’ Story. Similarly, a collection of the next four books in the saga is available as The Archers’ Story: Part II; the three novels after that as The Archers’ Story Part III; and the four after that as The Archers’ Story: Part IV.
A chronological list of all the books in the saga, and other books by Martin Archer, can be found below along with a few sample pages from the first book in the saga.
Finally, a word from Martin:
“I sincerely hope you enjoyed reading the latest story about the hard men of Britain’s first great merchant company. If so, I hope you will consider reading the next book in the saga, The Venetian Gambit, and I respectfully request a favourable review for The Alchemist’s Revenge with as many stars as possible in order to encourage other readers.
“And, if you could please spare a moment, I would also very much appreciate your thoughts and suggestions about this saga and its stories. Should the stories continue? I can be reached at martinarcherV@gmail.com.”
Cheers and thank you once again. /S/ Martin Archer
eBooks in and around the exciting and action-packed The Company of Archers saga:
The Archers
The Archers’ Castle
The Archers’ Return
The Archers’ War
Rescuing the Hostages
Archers and Crusaders
The Archers’ Gold
The Missing Treasure
Castling the King
The Sea Warriors
The Captain’s Men
Gulling the Kings
The Magna Carta Decision
The War of the Kings
The Company’s Revenge
The Ransom
The New Commander
The Gold Coins
The Emperor has no Gold
Protecting the Gold: The Fatal Mistakes
The Alchemist’s Revenge
The Venetian Gambit (coming late 2019)
eBooks in Martin Archer’s epic Soldiers and Marines saga:
Soldiers and Marines
Peace and Conflict
War Breaks Out
War in the East
Israel’s Next War (A prescient book much hated by Islamic reviewers)
eBook Collections on Amazon
The Archers Stories I - complete books I, II, III, IV, V, and VI
The Archers Stories II - complete books VII, VIII, IX, and X
The Archers Stories III - complete books XI, XII, and XIII
The Archers Stories IV – complete books XIV, XV, XVI, and XVII
The Soldiers and Marines Saga - complete books I, II, and III
Other eBooks you might enjoy:
Cage’s Crew by Martin Archer writing as Raymond Casey
America’s Next War by Michael Cameron – an adaption of Martin Archer’s War Breaks Out to set it in the immediate future when Eastern and Western Europe go to war over another wave of Islamic refugees.
Sample Pages from Book One – The Archers
....... We sometimes had to shoulder our way through the crowded streets and push people away as we walked towards the church. Beggars and desperate women and young boys began pulling on our clothes and crying out to us. In the distance black smoke was rising from somewhere in the city, probably from looters torching somebody’s house or a merchant’s stall.
The doors to the front of the old stone church were closed. Through the cracks in the wooden doors we could see the heavy wooden bar holding them shut.
“Come on. There must be a side door for the priests to use. There always is.”
We walked around to the side of the church and there it was. I began banging on the door. After a while, a muffled voice on the other side told us to go away.
“The church is not open.” The voice said.
“We have come from Lord Edmund to see the Bishop of Damascus. Let us in.”
We could hear something being moved and then an eye appeared at the peep hole in the door. A few seconds later, the door swung open and we hurried in.
The light inside the room was dim because the windows were shuttered.
Our greeter was a slender fellow with alert eyes who could not be much more than an inch or two over five feet tall. He studied us intently as he bowed us in and then quickly shut and barred the door behind us. He seemed quite anxious.
“We have come from Lord Edmund’s castle in the Bekka Valley to see the Bishop,” I said in the bastardised French dialect some people are now calling English. And then Thomas repeated my words in Latin. Which is what I should have done in the first place.
“I shall tell him you are here and ask if he will receive you,” the man replied. ”I am Yoram, the Bishop’s scrivener; may I tell him who you are and why you are here?”
“I am William, the captain of the men who are left of the company of English archers who fought in the Bekka with Lord Edmund, and this is Father Thomas, our priest. We are here to collect our company’s pay for helping to defend Lord Edmund’s fief these past two years.”
“I shall inform His Eminence of your arrival. Please wait here.”
The Bishop’s scrivener had a strange accent; I wonder how he came to be here?
Some time passed before the anxious little man returned. While he was gone we looked around the room. It was quite luxurious with a floor of stones instead of the mud floors one usually finds in a church.
The room was quite dark. The windows were covered with heavy wooden shutters and sealed shut with wooden bars; the light in the room, such as it was, came from cracks in the shutters and smaller windows high on the walls above the shuttered windows. There was a somewhat tattered tribal carpet on the floor.
The anxious little man returned and gave us a most courteous nod and bow.
“His Grace will see you now. Please follow me.”
The Bishop’s clerk led us into a narrow, dimly lit passage with stone walls and a low ceiling. He went first and then Thomas and then me. We had taken but a few steps when he turned back toward us and in a low voice issued a cryptic warning.
“Protect yourselves. The Bishop does not want to pay you. You are in mortal danger.”
The little man nodded in silent agreement when I held up my hand. Thomas and I needed to take a moment to get ourselves ready.
He watched closely, and his eyes opened in surprise as we prepared ourselves. Then, when I gave a nod to let him know we were ready, he rewarded us with a tight smile and another nod—and began walking again with a determined look on his face.
A few seconds later we turned another corner and came to an open door. It opened into a large room with beamed ceilings more than six feet high. I knew the height because I could stand upright after I bent my head to get through the entrance door.
A portly older man in a bishop’s robes was sitting behind a rough wooden table and there was a heavily bearded and rather formidable-looking guard with a sword in a wooden scabbard standing in front of the table. There was a closed chest on the table and a jumble of tools and chests in the corner covered by another old tribal rug and a broken chair.
The Bishop smiled to show us his yellow teeth and beckoned us in.
We could see him clearly despite the dim light coming in from the small window openings near the ceiling of the room.
After a moment he stood and extended his hand over the table so we could kiss his ring. First Thomas and then I approached and half kneeled to kiss it. Then I stepped back and towards the guard to make room for Thomas so he could re-approach the table and stand next to me as the Bishop re-seated himself.
“What is it you want to see me about?” the Bishop asked in Latin.
He said it with a sincere smile and leaned forward expectantly.
“I am William, captain of the late Lord Edmund’s English archers, and this is Father Thomas, our priest and confessor.” And my older brother, although I am not going to mention it at the moment.
“How can that be? Another man was commanding the archers when I visited Lord Edmund earlier this year, and we made our arrangements.”
“He is dead. He took an arrow in the arm and it turned purple and rotted until he died. Another took his place and now he is dead also. Now I am the captain of the company.”
The Bishop crossed himself and mumbled a brief prayer under his breath. Then he looked at me expectantly and listened intently.
“We have come to get the money Lord Edmund entrusted to you to pay us. We looked for you before we left the valley, but Beaufort Castle was about to fall and you had already fled. So we followed you here; we have come to collect our company’s pay.”
“Of course. Of course. I have it right here in the chest.
“Aran,” he said, nodding to the burly soldier standing next to me, “tells me there are eighteen of you. Is that correct?” And how would he be knowing that?
“Yes, Eminence, that is correct.”
“Well then, four gold Constantinople coins for each man means you are due seventy-two; and you shall have them here and now.”
“No, Eminence, that is not correct.”
I reached inside my tunic and pulled out the company’s copy of the contract with Lord Edmund, and laid the parchment on the desk in front of him.
As I placed it on the table, I tapped it with my finger and casually stepped further to the side, and even closer to his swordsman, so Thomas could once again step into my place in front of the Bishop and nod his agreement confirming it was indeed in our contract.
“The contract calls for the company to be paid four gold bezant coins from Constantinople for each of eighty-seven men and six more coins to the company for each man who is killed or loses both of his eyes, arms, legs, or his ballocks.
“It sums to one thousand and twenty-six bezants in all—and I know you have them because I was present when Lord Edmund gave you more than enough coins for our contract and you agreed to pay them to us. So here we are. We want our bezants.”
“Oh yes. So you are. So you are. Of course. Well, you shall certainly get what is due you. God wills it.”
I sensed the swordsman stiffen as the Bishop said the words and opened the lid of the chest. The Bishop reached in with both hands and took a big handful of gold bezants in his left hand and placed them on the table.
He spread the gold coins out on the table and motioned Thomas forward to help him count as he reached back in to fetch another handful. I stepped further to the left and even closer to the guard so Thomas would have plenty of room to step forward to help the Bishop count.
Everything happened at once when Thomas leaned forward to start counting the coins. The Bishop reached again into his money chest as if to get another handful. This time he came out with a dagger—and lunged across the coins on the table to drive it into Thomas’s chest with a grunt of satisfaction.
The swordsman next to me simultaneously began pulling his sword from its wooden scabbard. Killing us had all been prearranged. …..
**** End of the Sample Pages ****
The Archers and all the other stories in this medieval saga are available as eBooks. Search for Martin Archer fiction. And, if you could please spare a moment, I would also very much appreciate it if you would give this story a review with as many stars as possible in order to encourage other readers.
And finally, I would also most sincerely appreciate your thoughts as to whether more stories should be written about the Company of Archers. I can be reached at martinarcherV@gmail.com. Cheers, and thank you once again. /s/Martin