Deus Militis - Soldiers of God

by Jonathan A Longmore

  Erasmus turned away and stared through the glass again, ‘You don’t have much faith in God do you?’

  De Capo closed his eyes as he placed his hands back over the flames, ‘I have faith in God, the priests I don’t have much faith in.’

  ‘I take that as an insult,’ Erasmus said tartly, he snapped his head round, ‘after all this time and you still don’t know me!’

  The sound of men on the castle walls shouting made them both turn towards the window and de Capo stood and joined Erasmus trying to see what was happening. They could make out the shapes of people running across the courtyard but nothing more. De Capo turned away and picked up his sword belt and quickly strapped it to his waist.

  ‘Is it an attack?’ Erasmus looked worried, ‘I thought men didn’t like fighting in the winter!’

  ‘You’ve a lot to learn,’ de Capo said as he opened the door, ‘men fight when and where they are told to fight.’ He walked out of the room and along the corridor with Erasmus close behind. They stopped halfway down the staircase leading into the vestibule which was protected by the huge iron reinforced oak doors and a portcullis, the spikes protruded through the gap above, into where it was winched. If they were ever attacked, the house would become a place of last refuge and the passageway between the outer door and portcullis would become a murder trap with missiles rained down onto the attackers through the grills in the floor above. A second door would be closed behind the Portcullis and the defenders inside would have to pray it held.

  For now though, the only attacker was a flurry of wind and snow that swept into the house, followed by Sir John and his guards accompanied by two people wrapped heavily in cloaks. Before the outer door was shut Sir John led the two cloaked strangers towards the Great Hall. He glanced up and saw his two guests watching, ‘It seems I have become very popular, come and join us, both of you!’

  Despite the size of the fireplace and the logs being replenished at regular intervals to keep the flames roaring, the Great Hall was still prone to the chills and draughts which always found their way in. De Capo and Erasmus entered together to see the newcomers ushered to the blazing hearth where they threw back their hoods revealing their femininity. Female servants rushed past de Capo and immediately started to make a fuss of the women, removing their heavy wet cloaks and replacing them with warm, dry, fur lined ones. More servants appeared with food and warm wine and de Capo stood a respectful distance back while Erasmus approached Sir John under the ever watchful eye of his guards.

  Erasmus bowed and scraped in that annoying manner he was always prone to do when he thought he was meeting someone of importance, de Capo simply watched and shook his head in amusement; as yet he hadn’t seen the faces of either woman.

  De Capo heard his own name mentioned as Erasmus stopped his fawning and looked towards him. The taller of the two women turned and glanced at him for the briefest of moments, but long enough for her to run her eyes quickly up and down his body, she gave a small nod and the barest of smiles before turning away.

  De Capo was staggered, his mouth opened slightly but he was mesmerised into remaining silent as he stared at the back of her head. For several moments he could hear nothing but a thumping at the side of his head. It seemed the room had been covered in a silence only she could break through, and at the same time he felt a strange sensation in the pit of his stomach, the same sensation he would feel just before he went into battle. Slowly his head cleared and he heard her name being mentioned, ‘Blanche.’

  He hadn’t noticed his own name being spoken and he realised she was facing him again with Sir John staring at him with a furrowed brow, ‘Sir Ralf?’

  De Capo forced himself to look at the Earl and simply stared foolishly without speaking.

  ‘This is the Lady Blanche de Warenne and her maid Evelyn,’ Sir John looked at Erasmus who raised his eyebrows knowingly as de Capo finally blustered a greeting, proving even he was powerless to act normally in the presence of such a beautiful woman.

  He was awestruck and finally smiled when he realised everyone was staring at him as if he were a simpleminded village oaf. As he came back to his senses he gave a slow bow maintaining eye contact with Blanche, ‘My Lady.’

  Blanche acknowledged his manners with a slight tilt of her head, turned to Evelyn and whispered something in her ear. Evelyn smiled and Blanche turned back to Sir John, ‘I need to speak to you in private.’

  Chapter Thirty Six

  Born nineteen years earlier and a distant cousin to the Earl of Surrey, Blanche was a woman of substantial beauty caught up in a war that was starting to sweep across a land being ripped apart by the ambitions of a few men. Her mother died in childbirth and her father raised her as best he could, but always resented her living when his beloved wife died. She was betrothed to Gilbert de Clare, Earl of Hereford and Gloucester, an arrangement she had not wanted and had fought against, only agreeing because her father made a promise when de Clare agreed to settle his mounting debts.

  The engagement had been short and one of violence with de Clare’s temper coming to the fore, proving her initial reluctance had been the right choice. She couldn’t run to her father who would have forced her to return, so turned instead to Sir John and arrived with her maid Evelyn after suffering physical abuse at the hands of the man who should have protected her.

  That evening Sir John spoke to de Capo privately and explained what was happening. De Capo grew increasingly angry as the story was told and he promised himself he would protect her if and when the time came. This was nothing to do with his honour or his oath as a knight, he was smitten with her. At first he thought he was ill! He felt queasy and having lost his appetite lay awake that night thinking about her, angry that any man would harm her.

  Over the days that followed he could not understand why his demeanour had changed. He became very moody and the mood persisted when Blanche appeared to ignore him and walked past him as if he didn’t exist. She had been aloof when they had first met but he thought that was due to nerves and fear of a man in armour, another man of war. It was soon clear, apart from Sir John, she thought all men bred for the battlefield were bred for killing and were the same as the man she had left. His knightly oath had meant nothing to him, why should it mean anything to any knight.

  She very soon discovered she was mistaken.

  Blanche and her maid, Evelyn, had taken a great risk in riding to Lewes castle and had to make several detours on the journey from Tonbridge. What should have taken a day’s hard ride, took two days when they had to hide in the forest near to the hamlet of Friars Gate to avoid the patrols de Clare had sent to look for them. They arrived late in the evening of the second day; both were tired, cold and very scared. Within a week de Clare had arrived with her father and demanded to speak to her.

  Blanche refused to be alone with the man who had struck her, but agreed to speak to him if Sir John and her maid Evelyn were present. When Sir John spoke to de Clare he had succumbed to that request with a rage on his face and a demeanour which caused the Earl of Surrey to ask de Capo to be present; he of course agreed without hesitation.

  ‘Gilbert de Clare,’ said Sir John, ‘a rich and powerful man, he will not like to be spurned.’

  ‘Aye, everyone knows of him, but I thought you said he was already married,’ said de Capo.

  ‘He is, but as I said, he is rich and powerful and he will get rid of one wife and have another.’

  De Capo was astonished, ‘And what does the King say?’

  ‘Doesn’t matter what the King says,’ Sir John lowered his voice although there was no one else present, ‘de Clare is siding with the Barons, he has the money and the influence and I fear I shall make an enemy today, an enemy I can ill afford.’

  ‘But you will stand up for the Lady?’

  ‘I will, I will, she is family, my blood, and next to God and the King that counts for more than de Clare’s hurt feelings.’

  In the Great Hall at the Earl of Surrey’s castle,
Blanche sat at the feasting table with Evelyn on her right. Sir John stood behind her, and slightly behind and to his right stood de Capo. He wore full mail, with plate covering his shoulders and chest, over which hung his white surcoat displaying the coat of arms with the inverted cross. He stood firm and solid, and were it not for the movement of his eyes could have been mistaken for a statue.

  He wore gauntlets and his left hand rested conveniently just below the hilt of his arming sword. His right thumb hooked in his belt, a position from which he could draw his sword in one swift movement. He wasn’t there to talk, but to listen and act if it became necessary. At his suggestion Erasmus was also in the room, standing to the left of Sir John.

  The feasting table was old, made from thick English oak dating from the conquest, and was designed to be wide enough to stop a man from drawing a sword and plunging into a man opposite in a fit of drunken rage. It was therefore wide enough to protect Blanche from de Clare.

  Blanche had looked at de Capo when he entered the room and stood behind the Earl, he merely nodded, but their eyes had met and he might have imagined it but he felt something had passed between them. She turned to Evelyn and whispered, ‘Why is he here?’

  Evelyn turned and looked at de Capo who hadn’t taken his eyes off Blanche; he subtly loosened his sword and stood motionless.

  ‘I think he is your protection!’

  Blanche raised an eyebrow and allowed a small smile. She glanced at Erasmus, ‘And him?’

  ‘You should know my Lady, where one goes, the other goes.’

  The scene was now set; de Capo looked at Blanche from behind and made a silent vow that he would allow no harm to come to her. Her long, chestnut brown hair hung loose and flowed over her shoulders complimenting her plain green dress which matched the colour of her eyes. Her shoulders moved slightly as she breathed, she half turned her head towards Sir John, ‘I’m ready.’

  The Earl nodded at his guard and the door to the hall was opened revealing Gilbert de Clare waiting impatiently with her aging father. The two men, one young and arrogant, and the other old and anxious strode into the hall and stopped a swords length from the table.

  Both men wore surcoats emblazoned with their personal coats of arms over steel plate that sat strapped to suits of mail, rattling as they walked. They were bareheaded, with mail coifs pushed back to hang cosily at the back of their heads like thick iron collars. The arming swords at their sides sat in polished, inscribed scabbards hanging from buffed and decorative belts which alone exhibited the wealth these men had. Their appearance was flawless despite the thirty mile ride they had made. Beards neatly trimmed; the old man’s thick with grey which was in complete contrast to the deep red of the younger Earl. They were dressed to impress and intimidate, and their hands remained covered with gauntlets, the left on their hilts and the right hanging loose.

  They looked over the heads of the two women as if they did not exist and ignoring everyone else present set their eyes firmly on Sir John.

  De Clare gave a small nod of the head, ‘Sir John, I trust you are well?’

  The Earl nodded back, ‘Sir Gilbert,’ he looked at Blanche’s father, ‘Sir Robert.’

  Blanche shuddered and the movement was noticed by de Capo.

  Her father opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by de Clare, ‘I am here to claim my property!’

  Sir John feigned confusion and looked around him before turning back to de Clare, ‘Property Sir Gilbert? What property?’

  ‘That property!’ De Clare bellowed as he pointed a finger directly at Blanche, ‘I trust you will fulfil your obligations!’ It wasn’t a question but a statement that was almost spat from his mouth.

  Blanche held her hands together under the table and squeezed them hard, another movement de Capo could see and he understood the Lady was scared. He watched de Clare closely as she replied in a calm voice, ‘I have no obligations to you.’

  ‘You are promised to me!’

  ‘And you are still married,’ replied Blanche softly.

  De Clare snarled at the temerity of the statement, ‘She will not be my wife forever, and you are still promised to me!’

  Blanche stiffened, ‘And that promise,’ she said with a tremor in her voice as she stared at her father, ‘was made by another.’

  De Clare looked round at Blanche’s father who stood sheepishly beside his prospective future son in law, ‘True,’ de Clare, replied nodding, ‘the promise was made by your father, but you are duty bound to honour that promise.’

  ‘And you were duty bound to protect me, and now I need protection from you!’

  De Clare gritted his teeth as he spoke, ‘You were insolent my Lady, and insolence deserves to be punished, that is the way of this world.’

  ‘No Gilbert! That is the way of your world, not mine, and I will not be part of it.’

  De Clare’s eyes narrowed and he took a step toward the table. De Capo adjusted his right hand, the slightest of movements that did not go unnoticed by de Clare. Keeping his eyes focused on Blanche, he spoke to the Earl of Surrey, ‘Who is this man Sir John, who seems to want to provoke me?’

  The Earl took a step forward and placed his hand on Blanche’s left shoulder, ‘My apologies Sir Gilbert,’ he glanced round at de Capo, ‘I present Sir Ralf de Capo, recently returned from Acre, my witness to these proceedings.’

  ‘And ready for a fight, I see!’

  ‘He is here to ensure there is no fight.’

  ‘He is here, Sir John, as an intruder to these proceedings.’

  ‘He is here at my request,’ said Sir John in a firm voice.

  Blanche stood, ‘And he is here at my request, and he will stay until you have both gone,’ Blanche looked at her father with tears in her eyes before glaring stubbornly at de Clare, ‘I am no longer betrothed to you, for if that is the only choice I would rather die!’

  De Clare’s tone was menacing as he gripped his scabbard with his left hand and pulled the blade free, ‘That can be arranged!’ he hissed and moved towards the table.

  De Capo moved fast, both Sir John and de Clare later admitted to themselves they had never seen anyone move as fast. Erasmus was equally impressed and even though he knew how capable he was in a fight, he had not realised his prowess. The dagger de Capo threw at de Clare was not intended to kill, and the handle struck de Clare below his left eye, splitting the skin and causing a fountain of blood to erupt across his face. The force of the blow, so sudden and without warning made de Clare stumble backwards and drop his blade which clattered noisily to the floor. By the time he gathered himself and leapt forward to recover his sword de Capo had thrown himself over the table, sliding across the top and landing in a crouch with his blade resting on the back of de Clare’s neck forcing the man to his knees.

  De Clare froze as de Capo spoke for the first time in a voice that begged de Clare to ignore his advice, ‘My Lord, I beg you do not move if you wish to live.’

  ‘Sir Ralf!’ The Earl of Surrey spoke with urgency in his voice, the death of Gilbert de Clare was not something he wanted to explain, ‘Do not kill him!’

  De Capo shifted his stance and moved his blade from the back of de Clare’s neck to his throat, he increased the pressure and de Clare slowly raised his head; the sharp steel, cold against his gullet.

  Blanche had gasped at the swiftness of the incident, ‘No, please, do not kill him.’

  Blanche’s father was shocked at the sight of one of the most powerful men in England being forced to his knees, humiliated by a common knight. He reached for his sword but stopped as he heard a click and turned to see a guard with a loaded cross bow half raised. He looked at Sir John who raised a hand to stop the guard releasing the steel tipped bolt aimed at Sir Robert de Warenne, his own cousin.

  Sir John looked down at de Capo still crouched with his blade against de Clare’s throat, ‘Let him stand…before any serious blood is spilt…..I believe these proceeding are over!’

  De Clare remained
motionless, blood seeping down his cheek, teeth gritted and lips curled in disgust he had been so quickly and easily bested by an adversary he knew nothing of until now. De Capo stared at Gilbert de Clare; there was no fear, just anger, and he spoke softly although the words were heard by everyone present, ‘Your word that you leave here.....or I open your throat!’

  Gilbert de Clare knew he’d been badly beaten and gave the smallest of nods. De Capo stepped back, but kept his blade high, mere inches from de Clare’s face while Blanche and Evelyn silently backed away and stood behind Sir John. The atmosphere was tense as de Clare slowly bent and retrieved his sword. No words were spoken as he sheathed the blade, and with one final stare at Blanche he turned and walked out of the hall with the ashen faced Sir Robert trailing behind.

  As de Clare made a hasty exit from Lewes, De Capo approached Blanche and apologised for any embarrassment he had caused her.

  She looked up at him, firm and steady with a glint in his eye as he returned her gaze, ‘There was no embarrassment, I am fortunate you were here.’ Her face softened and she ended the short conversation by touching his forearm before turning to Evelyn and indicating she was ready to return to their chambers.

  As Blanche made her apologies to Sir John, de Capo watched with a smile as she walked out of the Great Hall.

  The small cough from Sir John made him turn, ‘A fine display, a very fine display,’ he sighed, ‘but I fear you have made an enemy this day.’

  De Capo, still smiling, shrugged as he glanced down at the spots of blood on the floor where de Clare had stood, ‘I seem to make enemies wherever I go Sir John, but this was worth making an enemy for.’

  As he stared after Blanche he realised being a knight did not mean he could not be a man with a woman by his side. For so long he had committed himself to one cause after another, and now his eyes had been opened and his heart ached as he realised he wanted this woman as his wife.

  ~

  The weeks passed, and de Capo and Blanche spent more and more time together. What started as quick whispers in passing became longer conversations, this became several hours in each other’s company until they started to spend as much time together as they could. That time was limited though. The war had started in earnest and people’s ability to travel freely was seriously compromised by the bands of soldiers, knights and outlaws scouring the country.