Sword for Hire

by Griff Hosker

  I grabbed my sword and stood. William had his dagger ready. Robert of Blois and his handful of men faced us. “Do we end it here? Are you men enough to face us or will you wait until we sleep?”

  I saw the debate in his eyes. They had treasure. He spat at me, “You can die here! Let us ride and leave these to the Turks.”

  They ran. They must have prepared in advance for their horses were saddled and the sumpters with the treasure, tethered. They galloped off into the night. I looked at William, “Are your hurt?”

  “No lord and once again I owe you a life. Soon I will need to be a cat to repay you.”

  “Thank Skuld, she woke me.”

  I saw that Birger was kneeling next to his squire. “Thomas, he has been wounded.”

  I saw that he had had his left arm laid open. Birger had tied a piece of rope above the wound. If we did not do something then the squire would die.

  “William, fetch me a brand from the fire.” I looked at Birger. I have seen this done but never attempted it.”

  “Do it!”

  As soon as the brand was in my hands I wasted no time. I plunged it onto the savage cut. Petr screamed and then, mercifully, passed out.

  Birger grabbed my hand, “And now I owe you a life. Petr is my young brother. What is mine is yours.”

  I nodded. I felt numbed by the events which appeared to have overwhelmed us. “It seems we are alone.” I nodded to Petr. “We cannot leave until he wakes. William, search the bodies for coin and weapons. I have a sword for you from the Turk but we may need all that they have and more.”

  He said, cheerfully, “Aye lord! I am alive and I could have been dead! I am happy!”

  I shook my head. I was surrounded by madmen. We were deep behind enemy lines. We had a wounded man and yet my two comrades were happy.

  I fed and watered the horses. I found that Robert of Blois had left two horses. They might prove the difference between life and death. Petr slept and William brought the purses of the dead. All of them had taken from the sacks we had packed. I had expected as much. I shared the coins out between the four of us and the horses we led. I was a realist. If four of us made Acre then that would be a miracle. We all had to get home. This way I gave each man a fighting chance.

  The sun had been up for some hours when Petr awoke. He looked up at his brother and grinned, “Then I am not dead?”

  “No but we are far from safety. Can you ride?”

  “I can try.”

  William said, “I will watch him, lord. You will make sure we get home and I will watch my friend.”

  They believed I could do it but I was not so certain.

  When we left I rode in the van and Birger took the rear. I had said that life was more important than the sack of treasure we carried. If enemies came then we would flee and just take a spare horse with us. We had enough coin to take passage to Nissa. If we had to we would ride across France.

  Chapter 3

  We did not get to travel far that first day. Petr was in pain and we had no wine for him. That had all been taken by Blois’ men. We went steadily and we went warily. I relied on Skuld’s ears and sense of danger more than anything else. We did not use the road. Blois and his men could ambush us. More than that, I had seen signs, on the road, that the Turks had men riding it. In this land, anyone that we met would be an enemy. I used the sun as a guide. I used none of the trails from our outward journey. We had to head north and west. My grandfather had told me a tale of how he had escorted my grandmother to her father. In order to avoid an enemy, he had ridden a camel trail used by merchants. It was to the east of the road. We had ridden along it until dark. We found a watering hole. There were some dried, almost desiccated lumps of camel dung there. It confirmed that we were on the right path.

  There was some scrubby grazing for the horses and we still had some grain we had taken from Aqua Bella. While Birger saw to Petr and William prepared food I examined the horses. Two were not in the best of condition. When I looked at them closely I saw that both had injured hooves. I would not risk them. When we left, I would free them. They would find water themselves and, hopefully recover. We could not afford to be burdened with lame horses.

  We ate cold rations. I did not want to attract enemies. We would have no fire. That meant we were eaten alive by flies and biting insects. “I have been thinking, Birger. The last place we need to go to is Acre.” He looked at me with questions in his eyes but he said nothing. I explained, “If Robert of Blois gets there first then who knows what tale he will tell.”

  Birger nodded, “And where would we go?”

  “Since the battle of Arsuf, we have many ports along the coast in our hands. There is Ashdod, Ascalon, Caesarea Maritima and Jaffa. They are all closer than Acre. We could be there not long after dark.”

  “We would have to change horses.”

  “We now have those two spare ones.”

  I saw that William and Petr looked relieved that we might have a shorter journey. Birger said, quietly, “And the coins we took from Aqua Bella, what of them?”

  I had thought this through. “If King Richard had sent us then I would feel honour bound to deliver the treasure to him. We were duped and used. I say that we keep the treasure. I have heard a phrase, I think it is Viking, weregeld. Call it that!”

  Birger nodded, “I have not heard that word for some time. You are right it is Viking. It means blood money. It is money paid for a life which was taken. But this treasure cannot be used for that. None have died. We head to a port and then we see if we can return the coin to King Richard. That would be the honourable thing to do. We have the coin we took from the dead. That might buy passage to France and then we could ride through France.”

  I nodded but I did not agree with Birger. King Richard had betrayed me. My father’s sacrifice had been forgotten but Birger was older and wiser than I. I would go along with him.

  The three of us took it in turns to watch. I had the last one. Birger woke me. “It is quiet but…”

  “But you have a feeling of danger.”

  He smiled, his teeth white in the dark, “Aye, how did you know?”

  “My grandfather’s scout, Masood, told me that a man ignored the hidden voice inside him at his peril. He said it was the dead watching over the living. We are Christians and so we should not believe that.”

  “Yet you do. You are the most interesting Englishman I have ever met. I should have liked to have known this family of yours.”

  “I am the last.” Just saying it made my spirits slump. I was the last and was I worthy enough to carry on the name?

  As I took my watch I realised that I was not the last. There was my Aunt Ruth. She lived. Her husband had died in the border fighting and she had no children. She lived in a rambling hall at Wulfestun. With a handful of men and other widows from the wars they were a tiny community. My father used to visit her once a week. I wondered if she was still alive. She had always been fond of me. Perhaps that was because she had no children of her own. Another reason, perhaps, was that my mother had never been a well woman. Four babies had been born dead or died in the womb and Matilda had killed her. My aunt had often come to care for me. She had tried to be as a mother to me. Strange, I could remember Aunt Ruth’s face but not my own mother. When we returned to England, if we managed to return to England, then I would have to speak with her. She ought to know how her brother had died. They had been close.

  I woke the others before dawn. Petr was stiff but he looked to have slept. We rode in the same formation. Leaving the two horses behind we rearranged the coins so that all of us had some in our bags. We used the pack horses for our spare weapons, our food and our water. I wondered if we might be able to reach friendly territory before dark. Our plan to change horses was now in tatters. The two lame horses had seen to that. In my head, I had a picture of a map my grandfather had had in his solar. If we headed south then we would reach Ashdod and Ascalon. If we kept heading due west it would be Caesarea Maritima and north and ea
st would take us to Jaffa.

  We came to a trail which crossed ours. We could go south west or northwest on the trail we crossed or we could head due west. Due west was the shortest and I chose that route. Birger went along with my decision.

  The vultures which took flight as we approached the gully told me that we were entering a valley of death. The eyeless heads on the spears told me who had died. It was Robert of Blois and his men. Their emasculated and tortured naked bodies littered the ground.

  William averted his eyes. Birger said, “Should we bury them? It is the Christian thing to do.”

  Skuld snorted and, as I glanced to the hills to our right I glimpsed a movement. “Keep moving, we are being watched. Keep your hands from your weapons.”

  We had just left the charnel house when a line of riders appeared before us. They were Seljuk Turks. There were ten of them and six had their bows with an arrow ready to end our lives. I showed my palms and said, “We mean no harm. We are travellers heading home. Let us pass.”

  The leader rode up to me and pointed behind me, “You are Franks like these butchers of women and children. Are you also cowards that you will not fight us like men?”

  “It would not be a fight that we would win. Your arrows would pluck us from our horses. We are not like those you slew. We have killed no women and children.”

  He frowned. I had spoken truly. He had looked in my eyes. Had he seen the truth there? He turned and shouted something. Four men, not warriors, came from behind a large rock. I saw that one was an older man. He had a scar across a lifeless eye. I had seen him before.

  He pointed at me and said, “He is the one. He told us to flee.”

  The leader looked back at me. He nodded and waved his arm. “You speak true. I saw it in your eyes and this man has confirmed your story. I will spare your life.”

  “Thank you.”

  “On one condition.”

  I nodded, “Ask.”

  “That you leave this land and return to whatever land that spawned you devils. Swear on your cross that you will do this and you shall live.”

  I took out my sword and held it by the blade, “I swear, by Almighty God that I will leave this land and never return.”

  He nodded and looked pointedly at the others. I was not certain how much of the words they had understood. I turned and said, “Swear on your swords that you will leave this land. If you do so then we live!”

  They did as I asked. The warrior nodded, “Now go and soon this land will be free from the Frankish fist!”

  As we rode toward the road I was aware that we were turning our backs on the Turks. If they chose then they could slaughter us. I had to trust that they would keep their word. Despite what others heard I had always found that the Turk, if he said something, kept to it. Some of our own people like King Richard, Guy de Lusignan and Robert of Blois did not.

  We reached the outskirts of Caesarea Maritima after dark. We had made better time than I had hoped because we were on the road. It was a much shorter road than the one we had taken. As we passed through the streets we noticed a buzz of excitement. Spying an inn, we stopped and discovered that they had stables and a room. The four of us would have to share but that was no hardship. We had endured much already. We made certain that the horses would be well cared for, especially Skuld and then we went in to the inn.

  “Do you have food?”

  “Aye we do.”

  We ordered food and then I asked, “There appears to be great excitement in the town; why is that so?”

  “Have you not heard? Where have you been? The news is all over the land.”

  “What news?”

  “King Richard of England has signed a treaty with Saladin. We are safe! We have the ports and the land around them! Your leader is a great man!”

  I felt relief. I could go home. My task had been completed. “Where is the King now? Acre?”

  “The word is that he has left this land to return to Normandy!” The inn keeper, a one-armed Frank said, “Of course, I do not know how he will do so. The King of France has closed his ports to any Norman or Englishman. There is bad blood.” He shrugged, “We have peace! I will fetch your wine and your food.”

  “Well that gives us a problem. How do we get home?”

  Birger said, “We could always get a ship which was neither Norman nor English.”

  I smiled, sadly, “You could for you are Swedish. We are English. We will have to take another path.”

  “We will not abandon you. Had it not been for you then we would both lie dead along with Robert of Blois. We will find another way.”

  The food and the wine came. It was the first hot food in a long time and we wolfed it down. Perhaps it was the food or the wine or a combination of both but Birger suddenly said, “What if we take a ship to Genoa? They are good sailors and their ports are not controlled by the French. We could head up through the Holy Roman Empire. We could part at Brugge. I could take ship home to the Stock Holm and you return to Stockton.”

  I nodded. It would be a hard journey. We would have to travel through and over the Alps. We would need to buy horses. Accommodation would not be cheap. Thanks to Richard’s treatment of Leopold of Austria we would not be welcomed in much of that land. I was now grateful that we had chosen to save the treasure for us. It was pure luck that we had done so. King Richard had gone. The treasure was never intended for him. I had a feeling that the King of Jerusalem was seeking the treasure not for his kingdom but for his purse.

  The next day we went to the harbour to find a ship. There were none to be had. When the peace was signed then many soldiers had chosen that moment to leave. We would have to wait. We took the opportunity of equipping ourselves for the journey home. We all had coins and there were too many to remain hidden. We converted some of them into goods. William and Petr bought themselves new suits of mail. I had mine repaired. We bought William a helmet like mine. We had new surcoats made. War and the ride to Aqua Bella had taken their toll. We had new cloaks made. I bought spices. They were light and yet they were valuable. We could trade those on the way home. We bought silver and gold necklaces. They were lighter than the gold we paid but would increase in value in the Empire. And then we all bought supplies. We bought preserved fruit and meats as well as cheese. I had no doubt that there would be food available on whichever ship we took but it would cost us. As the passage would be expensive too I doubted that we would have more than half of our treasure left when we eventually reached England.

  We visited the port every day for a week. Ships arrived but they were going in the wrong direction. We had no wish to go to Constantinople. There Crusaders were treated badly. The Greeks had not forgotten how they had been treated by the First Crusade. We saw the same people each day. They were mainly soldiers who wish to return home. I wondered how some would pay for their passage. They looked to be poorly dressed. What I noticed was that the ones who held their heads the highest were the ones whose swords were still sharp and shone with daily cleaning.

  We began to talk with some of them. We found we had much in common. They were men at arms but they were also real warriors. The ones who spoke each day all had similar stories to tell. Their lord had brought them on Crusade. Each had lost their lord in one of the many battles. Some had been in the Holy Land for more than ten years. Henry of Bath’s lord had married a Turk. They had had a castle which had been attacked and Henry had been the only one to escape. That had been ten years since and he had eked out a living as a hired sword since then. The departure of King Richard had decided him. He would go home.

  “The thing is, my lord, that all I know is being a soldier. When I followed my lord, I had seen fourteen summers. The only trade I know is fighting.”

  Phillip of Poitiers had been in the Holy Land for the same length of time as I had. He had served under James D’Avesnes. He had been moving from lord to lord since Arsuf. Henry Youngblood and David of Wales had followed King Richard. Both were bitter about being abandoned. David of Wale
s was an archer, “It is not right my lord. The King promised much and then we were abandoned. I should have left with my fellows after Arsuf but I stayed for I thought that the king had not finished. And now I am left here and left penniless.”

  Robert of La Flèche had a connection to me. He came from the manor which had belonged to my great grandfather. Long ago a knight of Stockton had been lord of the manor there. I believed it was still a fief of my family. It had since passed to an Angevin, a descendant of Sir Leofric but Jean was descended from a man at arms, Robert of Derby, who had also served my great grandfather. He and Phillip of Poitiers had followed standard of Geoffrey, Count of Brittany. The Count himself did not journey to the Holy Land and the knight whom Robert followed had not been an honourable lord. Wounded and left by his lord he had had the hardest of lives. He had been forced to work in stables to find food. It had taken him three years to recover from the wound and he was bitter about his treatment. He, alone out of all of the ones we spoke to did not have a weapon.

  We took to sharing our food with them. All of the ones who waited for a ship slept rough. It was fortunate that the weather was not cold. “How will you pay for a ship home?”

  Henry Youngblood had shrugged when I asked the question, “I will ask to work my passage. There are many pirates in these waters and many of the cities fight with other cities. It is said that the Genoese and Pisans fight a war at sea. I have never fought on a wooden ship but it cannot be much different from fighting on land. Besides if it gets me to England then I will be happy.”

  I looked into each of their faces. They were the nutty brown of men who had lived here for some time. They had knotted muscles and yet their waist told that they had not eaten well. “And what will you do in England?”