Green Jasper

by K. M. Grant

  Will was right. Hosanna was quite sure of the way to the tower, and when the rush of blood generated by the foolhardy leap had died down, he slowed to a canter, then walked and trotted steadily northward. Will barely held the reins. How good the horse felt. But more than that, Will felt he had something certain to cling to. Hosanna would not lead him astray. Gavin was wrong, thought Will as a watery sun came out.

  He and Hal slept in barns along the way, speaking to nobody but listening hard as groups of traveling peddlers speculated about Richard’s fate. Many people believed that their king was now John.

  If it was not for Ellie’s plight, Will thought as Hosanna splashed past some pilgrim monks, I suppose I would be on my way to Austria today, trying to find out the truth for myself.

  His mind dwelt briefly on Marissa. What had passed between the girl and Hosanna intrigued him. She was pretty too, in an angry kind of way. But she was just a child. When he got back, he would find a quiet horse and teach her to ride.

  But soon Will could think of nothing but Ellie and had to resist the urge to spur Hosanna on. Not that there was any need. The horse kept up a steady but relentless pace for Dargent to keep up with, and at dawn on the fourth day, they reached the place where the track to the tower split. Here Hosanna stopped, and Will patted his neck and dismounted. “We must be very close,” he said to Hal. “Take the horses into the wood. I’ll follow this track on foot.”

  It was late afternoon by the time he returned with the news Hal hoped for. “I have found a tower,” he said. “There is nothing else, so it must be where de Scabious hides out. There are hundreds of hoofprints, too, so it looks as though the horses followed the wagon all the way here before Hosanna brought them home.” He touched the horse’s white star. “I have looked all around, but I can’t see any way of getting into the tower unnoticed. I think we’ll have to go down into the village. We might find something out there. It is dangerous to be seen, I know, as de Scabious will have spies and the villagers will be suspicious, but we don’t have much choice. I am not going back to Hartslove without seeing Ellie. We have left her far too long already.” He remounted. “If only we had more mounted men and some siege machinery.”

  Gavin’s warnings sounded an unwelcome echo in his ear. Hal wisely kept his misgivings to himself.

  Soon they were through the thickest part of the wood and down on the valley floor. Where the ground flattened out, the trees had been felled to make a wide clearing. Two strong oaks, however, had been left on their own at the valley head, and from them hung three corpses: two men and a boy of about ten. The ropes were stiff with dirty ice, and the corpses’ faces were waxy in the moonlight. The two young men passed by in silence, averting their gaze. Will did not tell Hal that there was another gallows outside the tower bearing its own miserable burden.

  Fifty yards farther on, they could just about make out numerous wooden dwellings clustered close together, with stables and several small barns tucked behind. The left side of the valley was overhung with rocky outcrops that cast a dank shadow, but the right side was less steep, and houses were dotted over it. Beyond them ground was being prepared for tilling.

  The horses walked on together and were soon surrounded by noises both friendly and familiar. Cows demanded to be milked, and numerous chickens scratched and paddled in the slush. Will knew there were pigs, for Hosanna began to toss his head and snort.

  Hal laughed, glad to dispel the horror of the gallows. Hosanna was always funny about pigs. The horses squelched past a muddy pen in which a couple of oily-coated pack ponies stood nibbling moldy hay. They looked up, but without interest. In the distance the dull thud of axes could be heard together with the shouts of laborers urging workhorses to pull harder to earn their tea. Beside a quick-running stream the foundations of a church had been laid, and stones were gathered in neat piles, ready for masons to start work.

  Before they were accosted by any of the villagers, Will left the path and slid off. “Let’s spread the saddle blanket wide over Hosanna’s rump,” he said, “and splash dirt all down his neck and over his star. Then we’ll swap horses. Even with the light fading, somebody might recognize him, although he was loose last time he was here. If you ride him behind me, people won’t look so hard.”

  The simple disguise didn’t take long, and soon Will was pushing Dargent back onto the track. The first person they met was a man goading a pair of stubborn plough oxen with a stick. “No wonder they used to call this Mud-Month,” Will said in a conversational way.

  “No wonder at all,” came the reply.

  As if this were a signal, at once a dozen or so ragged children appeared. They had been throwing stones at each other, but when they saw Will, they threw a few at him instead. He dismounted again and offered them a ride. Suddenly they were all shy, but a lift on a smart warhorse was a treat not to be missed, and soon Will had quite a following. One small boy asked if he could take Dargent to the door of his house to show his mother.

  “Which house?” Will inquired, picking his way carefully between potholes and jumping over puddles. The shadows were deeper now, and he was glad that Hal and Hosanna were close to him. The boy pointed to a small, squat house right under the overhanging rock. A candle sputtered in the window. As Dargent approached the door the small boy called out loudly, and it flew open.

  “What on earth…,” exclaimed a thin woman, behind whom Will could see a pile of laundry in front of the fire.

  He smiled. “Your son here has turned into a knight.”

  “And who might you be?” the woman asked.

  Will ignored the question. “My squire and I, and our horses, need food and shelter for the night,” he said pleasantly. “Might we find it here?”

  “I can’t say,” said the woman. She turned to go inside.

  “Mother, look at me!” demanded the boy.

  “I see you, Elric,” she said, turning round again, and her face softened. “But the baby’s crying.” She disappeared.

  Crestfallen, the little boy allowed Will to help him off as the other children melted away. But in a second he brightened. “I’ll show you where you can put your horses,” he said to Will. “And I’ll fetch my father. We don’t have much room in our house, but if your squire and I sleep in the stable, we can manage.” He turned to Hal. “I hope your horses are used to cows. We will have to put the horses in with them, and some of them make a horrible noise.”

  “Our horses are used to everything,” said Hal. “There is not much they haven’t seen.”

  The little boy took them to a barn on the other side of the village and fetched straw for the horses’ beds. Will, meanwhile, was subjected to a barrage of questions. “Are you crusaders? Have you been in the Holy Land?” Elric’s eyes lit up when Will nodded his head. “That’s what I want to be when I grow up, not a rotten farmer, always tilling somebody else’s land, but a crusader with a big horse and a suit of armor made from silver.”

  Will laughed. “Would you really like to leave your mother and cross the sea?”

  “The sea,” said the little boy dreamily. Then he shook his head. “I can’t imagine what it must be like. They say it is so wide that you can’t see the other side. I don’t believe them. No bit of water could be so big you couldn’t see the other side. But I do want to go to Jerusalem. Once a knight came through here, and his squire was one of those Saladins—”

  “Saracens,” Hal corrected him as he put the horses’ trappings down within easy reach, just in case.

  “Whatever,” said the little boy. “Anyway, a knight came here who had one of those as his squire. He was a boy, only a few years older than me. He had dark skin and was wearing a surcoat of purple and gold. A squire wearing purple and gold! He didn’t like it when we stared. Some of the villagers spat at him, and he swore in a funny language. Then Constable de Scab—”

  Elric broke off as the barn door opened and a group of men entered. He ran over to them. “Father,” he said. “These are brave crusaders. They just want
to stay the night. This one gave me a ride on his horse. Please, Father, they just need food and shelter. I’m sure they can pay for it.”

  Will smiled and stepped forward. “We are on a journey,” he said, “and your son is right about one thing, at least. We need food and shelter for the night. May we ask for hospitality?”

  The man picked uncertainly at some pockmarks on his broad cheeks. “There is a town five miles farther north,” he said. “You’d be better off going there.”

  “It is a little far for us tonight.” Will continued to smile. “It’s already dark. We will head for the town in the morning, if that suits you.”

  The man began to consult with the rest of the group, and eventually they came to an agreement. “One night only, Peter,” one of them said. “We don’t want any trouble.” He spoke very deliberately.

  “One night is all we need.” Will kept his voice light.

  “The squire and I can sleep with the horses, Father,” said Elric, delighted.

  Peter gave Elric a not unfriendly cuff that the little boy evaded with ease. “One night,” he said to Will. “When your animals are settled, my wife will make you some supper. It will not be much, mind. We don’t have much.”

  “Whatever it is, it will be very welcome,” said Will. “Now, we need some oats, barley, and hay. My squire will pay you well.”

  Leaving Hal and Elric with Hosanna and Dargent, Will walked with Peter through the village. Most of the houses were invisible except for the dull glow of the fire in the hearth—small flickers of comfort in damp, wattle-and-daub mounds, some scarcely fit for badgers. Peter guided his guest to his own door and called for his wife.

  The baby had stopped crying, and Will could hear Elric’s mother singing gently. She had a nice voice, the kind Will imagined his own mother had. He could scarcely remember her, since she had died when he was six; but the sound brought back vague memories of a time when, just like Elric, he had stared at knights passing through Hartslove and had yearned for a Great Horse.

  The singing stopped. Elric’s mother put the baby in a cradle and gestured to Will to sit on a rough wooden bench in front of the struggling flames. “We have soup and bread,” she said, not grudgingly, but with a certain reserve. “There are no spare eggs today.”

  “Soup and bread will be fine,” said Will.

  “Bring out the cheese too, Morwenna,” said Peter, sitting down opposite Will. “Our guest should not go hungry, and take some supper down to the barn. We’ll never get Elric away from those horses tonight.”

  “He seems very keen on horses,” Will observed.

  “Never stops talking about them,” Peter replied as his wife moved softly around, gathering things together. “He runs pretty wild at the moment, but when he is older, he will be taken into service at Hangem Tower so that he can learn more about them. Maybe one day he will be a squire. That’s what we hope. It would be a better life for him than mine.”

  A round cheese was fetched from a cupboard, and Morwenna cut two fat slices before putting both loaf and cheese into a basket and filling a pitcher full of soup. Pulling a woolen plaid over her shoulders, she set off for the cow barn. Peter grunted as she went out of the door, then, chewing slowly on a bit of bread, scrutinized Will carefully.

  “Going far?” he asked.

  “Not so far,” Will said, softening his bread in his bowl. He tried to broaden the conversation. “This looks like a busy village. Your son mentioned Constable de Scabious. He must be a powerful fellow.”

  Peter’s eyes never left Will’s face. “Constable de Scabious has aspirations,” he said. “Do you know him?”

  “No,” lied Will. “But I hear he is a good friend of the king’s brother, John. Does he keep a big household?”

  Peter slurped his broth and shrugged. “Depends what you mean by big,” he replied. “He has soldiers. How many I couldn’t say.”

  “But you are sending Elric to him eventually, so he must be a good man.”

  Peter spat into the fire. “Good man, bad man,” he said. “I just want my son to get on, and the constable is moving up in the world. It seems we are to send up provisions for a marriage feast. His wife-to-be is a very grand lady.”

  “When is this happy event to take place?” Will had to fight to keep his face expressionless.

  “Very soon. The bride has arrived, and a whole host of horses arrived with her. That is why people in the village are a bit unfriendly. Some say they saw a horse as red as fire against the sky.” He shook his head. “We are supposed to be Christians here, but old superstitions die hard. The old women of the village never stop their mutterings about the devil and hell. Anyway, first there was that and then here you are looking for hospitality.”

  Will was genuinely puzzled. “But lots of people must pass through here,” he said.

  “Pass through, yes,” said Peter, showing his gums in a mirthless smile. “But did you not see the gallows on your way in? De Scabious keeps them well filled. The sight does not encourage people to linger. Most people push on. You didn’t.”

  “We were tired,” said Will rather lamely.

  “Aye,” Peter replied, getting up. “Well, the rushes in the corner are clean, and we’ve a spare blanket. You should sleep and then be off. I’ll say good night.”

  Will finished his bread, then he took the blanket Peter gave him, pulled off his boots, and settled himself in front of the hearth. The fire cheered up a little, and his eyes drooped. Morwenna returned, and Will heard low voices but could make out nothing that was said.

  After a few minutes he saw Peter tiptoe out of the house muttering something about a sick cow in the barn.

  I should get up and see if that’s where he is really going, Will thought, but after four nights on the road, his whole body rebelled against the idea of moving. “I’ll go in a moment,” he said to himself. “I’ll just lie here for a little while.” He slid farther into the blanket. Oh, it was so comfortable. The fire flared, then sank. “I must get up right now,” he told himself firmly as he felt his breathing grow heavy. But before he could move even one leg, he was asleep.

  In the predawn gloom a rush of cold air and a thud to the back hit him at about the same time. With a terrible start Will realized that the room was full of soldiers. He was ordered to get up. The baby began to wail.

  “We have been sent,” said a man Will recognized as the constable’s sergeant, “to bring you to more comfortable quarters.”

  “That is very kind,” said Will, trying to look unconcerned. “But I shall be off very soon. There is no need.”

  “Oh, but there is,” said the sergeant. “It does not do to turn down hospitality.”

  Will glared at Peter. This must be his doing.

  The sergeant followed Will’s eyes. “This man’s horse,” he demanded. “Where is it?”

  “In the barn,” Peter answered at once. “It’s in the barn. I can show you.”

  The sergeant nodded. “Let’s go,” he said. Will pulled on his boots and watched as the sergeant took his sword for himself.

  They walked in silence, Peter in front, the sergeant following, then Will flanked by two soldiers, with another behind him.

  Suddenly Will began to talk very loudly. “It is very kind of CONSTABLE DE SCABIOUS,” he almost shouted, “to be so solicitous to travelers.”

  “Keep your voice down,” the sergeant hissed over his shoulder and began to walk faster.

  “What’s that you say?” called Will. “The mist is coming down? No, I don’t think so. It is just the BREATH OF THE SOLDIERS making the air rather cloudy. SOLDIERS’ breath always smells of onions, don’t you find? Maybe one day they will invent something so that even these FOUR FINE FELLOWS HERE will smell only of mint or lavender.”

  The sergeant strode on, swearing under his breath. The barn was in sight, but Will’s one-sided conversation never let up. In fact, his voice grew louder and louder until the sergeant, unable to bear it, stopped.

  “SHUT UP!” he roared.r />
  “Certainly,” said Will, for they had arrived at the barn. “There is no need to shout.”

  As the soldiers pushed open the door Will held his breath. He could hear only the slow chewing of the cows in the darkness. He strained his ears, but all else seemed quiet. Perhaps Hal had slept through his clumsy alarm call. But as the door opened wider there was a sudden swish and thud of hooves. Already mounted on Dargent, Hal emerged full tilt from the shadows with Hosanna tossing his head and galloping by his side. Dashing around the soldiers, Hal let go of the reins, and Hosanna made for Will, who caught the stirrup and leaped on.

  The soldiers scattered, but as Will and Hal turned together to flee, a soldier emerged from the barn, triumphantly clutching Elric. The sergeant seized his chance. “Stop! Stop or I shall cut the child’s throat.”

  Will spun Hosanna around. “Leave him alone!” he cried. “He has done nothing.”

  “His life is in your hands!” shouted the sergeant, pulling out a dagger. “It’s up to you.” He twisted the little boy’s arm behind his back. Peter sank to his knees.

  Will hesitated for only a fraction of a second. “Go, Hal,” he ordered under his breath. Hal began to remonstrate. “Go!” ordered Will more loudly, wheeling Hosanna back to face the barn. “Go at once!”

  “I’ll be back,” whispered Hal, and driving his spurs hard into Dargent’s side, he sped away into the breaking dawn.

  A cry went up as Hal disappeared, but the sergeant did not seem to care. “Let him go!” he shouted. “It’s this one we want.”

  Will rode back toward the circle of men. The sergeant was smiling. He was still clutching Elric, and the boy’s chin trembled in an effort not to cry out. When Will dismounted, the sergeant let go, and Elric immediately tried to run to Hosanna, but his father caught him and hurried him away.

  Hosanna whinnied loudly as his bridle was seized, and Will clenched his teeth. There was no more pretense about “hospitality.” Instead, Will was marched roughly toward the soldiers’ horses, which were tethered behind the barn, and manhandled onto a scruffy pack pony, his wrists tied tightly behind his back.