De Montfort looked behind him to find one of his knights accompanied by the Bishop of Rochester.
‘Bishop Martino, you have come to threaten me with excommunication no doubt?’
The Bishop shook his head, ‘I am shocked Sir Simon, shocked you would allow this to happen,’ he displayed a look of utter sadness, ‘the Holy Father may excommunicate you when he learns of this travesty.’
De Montfort smirked, ‘You think he cares about what happens to this castle or this city?’
‘He cares about this cathedral,’ said the Bishop angrily, ‘and your men have defiled it, violated the sanctuary of the house of God and dragged men out and murdered them, he will care about that!’
‘I will pray for forgiveness,’ said de Montfort as he tried to feign interest in the Bishops words. He stood to one side, ‘Please,’ he motioned for the Bishop to stand next to him, ‘we are at war and unfortunate things happen. There are my men, if you can point out the guilty ones I will have them punished and perhaps that will placate the Holy Father.’
The Bishop glared at de Montfort, ‘Please do not mock me Sir Simon, this is a serious matter and damage has been caused and items have been stolen, for that I demand recompense!’
‘Ah!’ De Montfort smiled and looked down at his feet before looking up at the Keep, ‘As I suspected Bishop, it all comes back to gold and silver.’
The Bishop looked horrified, ‘This has nothing to do with gold and silver, it is the house of God, it is a sanctuary that your men ignored when they burst in and dragged men out to be slaughtered like pigs!’
De Montfort stopped smiling and turned to the Bishop, ‘Very well, once the Keep has fallen you will be paid from the treasure within.’
The Bishop was mortified, ‘I cannot take the Kings treasure!’
De Montfort glanced at de Clare and allowed himself a small grin. He turned back to the Bishop, ‘Then write to the Holy Father and ask for his guidance.’
‘You mock me again my Lord, the Holy Father will demand recompense,’ he took deep breaths having hurried from the cathedral and his face was red with anger and exertion, he fingered his crucifix as he continued, ‘and tomorrow is Easter, Sir Simon. It is the day our lord Jesus Christ rose from the dead and if you wage war on the day of his resurrection you will surely go to hell! I ask you to consider that when you consider the recompense the church is entitled to.’ The Bishop made the sign of the cross, turned and walked angrily away.
De Clare followed and started to ask questions about the treasure as de Montfort watched them both leave with a thoughtful look. He motioned to one of his guards, ‘Go and find Fabien and the prisoner.’
~
The trebuchets had stopped their bombardment before the final attack on the castle walls and they still sat silent. Faelan and his men took the time to do what they enjoyed most, they sat around and cooked a meal and drank ale. A supply of stones had to be bought to the top of the hill and the soldiers guarding them had the unenviable task of dragging them up. By the afternoon the trebuchets were ready to continue their task and Faelan waited for the order to continue.
The Mangonels stood idle as de Montfort stood on top of the gatehouse tower and thought about the decision he had made. Richard of High Farley stood behind him accompanied by Fabien le Breton. De Montfort looked over his shoulder, ‘Does the Sheriff know you by sight?’
‘I hope so my Lord.’
‘So do I Richard, so do I……you are to accompany Fabien to the Keep and pass a message.’
Chapter Twenty Seven
The Keep was full of servants and soldiers who had taken refuge. Those who were not actively involved in the defence were sent to the Great Hall to help the wounded. FitzAlan had finally collapsed on a bed in one of the side chambers off the Great Hall, and Sir Geoffrey attended the chapel to pray for those of his Templars who had fallen.
The mood of the people inside was sombre and apart from the groaning of the wounded, the noise was minimal, even more so now the battering from the trebuchet’s had stopped. Men stood at windows and loop holes and watched the armies of de Montfort and de Clare settling in for the siege. Both sides were licking their wounds, repairing armour and weapons. The rebels were settling in small groups, making fires to keep themselves warm in the still chilly April temperatures and the smell of food being cooked started to fill the air.
De Montfort had issued orders, the cathedral was now out of bounds. Any person who sought sanctuary, whether they left or not was to be treated as having the protection of not only the church, but de Montfort as well. As a result of that order what remained of the population started to emerge back into the city. Apart from the occasional attempt by archers on both sides to score hits, the city was peaceful.
The top of the Keep was crowded as men took the time to get out of the claustrophobic atmosphere inside. The wind had eased and this high up there was just a gentle breeze.
Sir Roger stared at the two men with their arms raised walking across the outer bailey towards the cross wall, ‘Does anyone recognise them?’
‘It looks like Richard of High Farley,’ said Jerold who stood nearby, ‘One of ours, no idea about the other one.’
‘Make sure the archers show restraint,’ de Capo ordered. He looked back at the two men who had reached the cross wall gate where they waited for a sign they could enter without being attacked, ‘It seems they want to talk.’
Jerold left to give his archers and the crossbowmen the order not to use the two men as target practice while de Capo and Sir Roger made their way to the Fore building accompanied by Henry and the Earl of Surrey.
As the drawbridge lowered and the doors were opened Henry grabbed de Capo’s arm when he started to leave, ‘This may be a trap; Sir John and I will go. We may be at war but to assassinate his own nephew is not something I think my Uncle would do.’
De Capo thought quickly and nodded remembering Blanche and what she would do if he was killed so easily, ‘Aye, very well, but remember there is no surrender.’
Both men stepped out of the Fore building and onto the drawbridge, crossed to the guard tower where two of the garrison entered, opened the doors and raised the portcullis. De Capo had archers behind him ready to let fly a volley if it was a trick and men ready to raise the drawbridge fast. Henry and Sir John walked through the gate, made their way down the steps and approached de Montfort’s envoys.
The Earl of Surrey spoke first, ‘You are Richard?’
‘I am my Lord.’
‘You seem to be on the wrong side.’
‘I am a prisoner my Lord.’
‘And you have given your word not to escape?’
‘I have.’
‘Very well,’ said the Earl, ‘I will not ask you to break it, who is this with you?’
‘I am Fabien le Breton,’ he gave a small bow of the head, ‘Chevalier and sworn knight to Sir Simon de Montfort.’
‘I have heard of you,’ said Henry, ‘I am told you are a man of honour.’
Le Breton smiled and inclined his head in thanks.
‘What do you want?’ Henry asked.
Richard looked past them and up at the Keep before replying, he knew he could simply walk away from le Breton and join his comrades and for a second he was tempted.
‘A man who breaks his word will not find it easy to be trusted again,’ Henry said as he read correctly what was going through Richards mind, ‘and if I know my Uncle he has explained how he feels about that.’
Richard looked at Henry and gave a half smile, ‘Aye, he has.’
Henry glanced at Le Breton who gave a small nod of the head out of respect for the small point of honour, ‘What’s your message Richard?
Richard sighed knowing he would have to remain a prisoner, ‘Sir Simon proposes a truce….’
‘To what end?’ interrupted Sir John
‘Tomorrow is Easter my Lord and Sir Simon feels we should not fight each other on such a holy day.’
Sir John look
ed at Henry and shrugged, ‘Is that it?’
‘There are to be no hostilities from either side my Lord, all men will stay in the outer bailey and you will be allowed to leave the Keep but not go beyond the cross wall. I do not believe this is a trick, but, he will resume his attack at dawn on Monday.’
Sir John looked at Henry, ‘Well, he’s your uncle, do you trust him?’
Henry nodded, ‘Aye, he can be trusted, his word is good.’ He looked at Richard, ‘Tell him we agree to those terms, and tell him I am here. If we meet I will have to fight him.’
‘I will my Lord, said Richard as he took one last look at the Keep before turning and walking back into the outer bailey with le Breton.
~
‘You thought about running?’
‘I thought about it,’ said Richard despondently, ‘I have friends in there, men I would like to see once more before I die!’
Le Breton was amused, ‘You think the Earl is going to kill you?’
‘Eventually,’ Richard felt shameful having had two opportunities to escape and taking neither of them, ‘I see no reason for him to keep me alive, after all I am his enemy and should try to kill him.’
‘And why haven’t you,’ said le Breton, ‘you had the opportunity!’
‘Aye,’ Richard grinned, ‘but I like him, even though he is a traitor, and it’s hard to kill someone you like.’
Le Breton slapped Richard on the back, ‘Now you know why he hasn’t killed you.’
~
The mood in the Keep relaxed as people were told there would be a truce but de Capo insisted the archers remain in position. Blanche had allowed Evelyn to help Erasmus with the wounded in the Great Hall but for most of the occupants there was nothing to do but wait. The fires blazed and food was being cooked, they all knew they would not die from starvation or thirst; death would only be from disease or the sword.
The bombardment of the Keep had ceased and the defenders knew this was a time for them to rest and prepare for the siege to continue. The orders had been specific from de Capo; no one was to leave the Keep without permission from Sir Roger or himself.
There would be a private mass in the chapel for the commanders and the women and Erasmus had volunteered to carry out that duty. The monks would offer a blessing to the rest of the defenders throughout the day.
~
The silence was eerie. After the nonstop bombardment on the Keep and the east gate, the screaming and killing, the wailing of the wounded and dying, the peace was unnatural and in its own way frightening. Men on both sides tried to relax but knew before long the peace would end and the task of trying to kill each other would resume.
De Clare sought out de Chauvigny who made his own camp near the east gate and away from the cathedral. The city of Rochester still smouldered and was now joined by the cooking fires of the invading army. De Chauvigny sat on a stool rescued from the destroyed buildings and watched as his men cleaned their weapons and armour, sharpening their blades with the whetstones each man carried.
Accompanied by Humfrey, De Clare approached de Chauvigny, ‘A good fight Reynaud, I see you bloodied your sword.’
‘Always,’ replied de Chauvigny casually, ‘a few more souls sent the Devils way!’
‘How did you arrange a truce?’ de Clare asked.
De Chauvigny narrowed his eyes and looked at De Balon who was crouched down skinning a pile of rabbits they had caught in the woods the day before, ‘Robert had a word with the Bishop.’
De Balon looked up and his lip curled as he remembered the visit. The Bishop had been most amenable to the contents of the castle treasury but he had to be seen to refuse any offer made to him. Of course, if it disappeared during the battle and reappeared in the Bishops private chambers it could only be an act of God.
De Clare nodded as he looked at Humfrey, he was still sceptical about the whole thing. Humfrey had actually cautioned him in private against it, ‘So the Bishop had a word with de Montfort,’ said de Clare, ‘I have to admit I had reservations.’
‘I still do,’ Humfrey muttered.
‘Every man has his price,’ de Chauvigny said as he stood and flexed his shoulders, ‘even you Sir Gilbert.’
De Clare’s eyes flashed with anger at the assumption he could be bought, but he knew de Chauvigny was correct, he did have his price and that price was Blanche. His hand momentarily moved towards his sword hilt but the look from Humfrey stopped him. Humfrey gave a small shake of the head and wished he had accompanied de Clare to Lewes castle that fateful day, perhaps he would not be so rash about what he was planning to do.
De Clare took a deep breath and crossed his arms, ‘What is your price?’
‘My price,’ said de Chauvigny who still failed to mention Erasmus, ‘is still de Capo, nothing more, nothing less.’
~
The man looked behind him as he entered the gate tower of the cross wall. Pulling the hood over his head to prevent any reflection on his face, he slipped out of the side door into the inner bailey and crept towards the west curtain wall staying in the shadows.
As he moved past the ruins of the Kings Hall he kept his movements slow and his face down. The fires in the Keep cast a dim glow from the loop holes in the thick walls and men who were half asleep watched carelessly for any sign the truce would be broken. Their weary eyes were on the walls expecting a full scale and surprise attack, they did not expect anyone to enter and sneak along the base of the wall in the darkness.
Anything that could rattle and give him away had been removed and he trod carefully as he made his way around to the south side of the Keep where he could spend the night hidden in the area between the south curtain wall and the back of the kitchens. Once he was safely there he made himself comfortable, wrapped his cloak around him and waited.
Chapter Twenty Eight
Easter Sunday broke with the sound of peace over Rochester. The bell of the cathedral rang out as the army of the Barons started to rise. A truce in the middle of a siege was unusual but not completely unheard of, although the men on both sides would spend a lot of that time preparing weapons and armour for when hostilities resumed.
As agreed the defenders would have free access until dawn on Monday. As the day lightened, sunlight shot through a crack in the clouds and within an hour the clouds started to break up. For the first time in days a blue sky could be seen and the rays striking the blood soaked ground were welcomed by men who had been damp and cold for as long as they could remember.
Blanche stepped out on the top of the Keep with Evelyn and together looked over the city as the sun rose. Even with the truce confirmed, most of the defenders were still inside the Keep. Only one of the four towers had a man still standing in it, he was looking to the west, waiting for the first sight of the Kings army.
Blanche took a deep breath and smiled, ‘A day without death!’
‘There are still wounded men who might die my Lady,’ Evelyn had no desire to smile, ‘I fear the truce came too late for them.’
Blanche looked at her maid and placed a hand on her shoulder, ‘The horrors of war Evelyn. Perhaps if men loved more they wouldn’t want to kill so much.’
‘A world without war,’ said Evelyn thinking aloud, ‘I wonder if that would be possible.’ She looked at Blanche, her eyes wide, excited by the prospect of peace, ‘What would Sir Ralf do, what would all these men of war do?’
‘They could pretend at fighting,’ said Blanche casually, ‘or become farmers and merchants, but not priests or monks.’ She looked stern, ‘Never priests or monks, they are so……miserable, and always talking of God and praying, they don’t know how to be happy….no, anything but priests and monks!’
Evelyn stared at the rising sun and thought of all the men who had been killed, she had seen enough pain from the wounded to last a lifetime. They walked to the north wall and stood as the breeze ruffled their hair. They both wore cloaks against the chill so high up. Although the sun would slowly dry out the land and give it s
ome warmth; on top of the Keep the chill still pervaded the flesh.
‘Ralf has promised to allow the cooks into the inner bailey to spit a hog today. He said there is no point having a truce if we don’t use it wisely.’
Will we be allowed to leave?’
Blanche sighed, ‘No, my beloved Ralf still thinks I will be in danger and has forbidden me to leave this prison!’
‘I think it is for the best,’ agreed Evelyn, ‘Sir Gilbert is out there and he may be tempted if he sees you outside the Keep, and now you have the baby to consider.’
‘We are lucky, are we not?’
‘My Lady?’
‘Lucky we have men who love us and want to protect us.’
‘Yes.’
‘You should spend some more time with Ranulf.’
‘I am here to serve you my Lady,’ replied Evelyn glumly, ‘there will be other times I can spend with him.’
‘No,’ insisted Blanche, ‘we both know he will be fighting again soon and while there is a truce you must spend some time with him, anyway I would like to be alone for a while. Sometimes it is nice to have one’s own company.’ Blanche smiled at Evelyn, ‘Go on, go and make him happy.’
Evelyn looked at Blanch suspiciously, ‘Do you promise not to go into one of those towers?’
Of course,’ said Blanche, ‘I’m forbidden.’
‘He forbade you to be up here,’ Evelyn reminded her, ‘and I will be the one he scolds.’
Blanche had expressed her desire to climb up to the towers more than once. The view would have been much greater than the one from the top of the Keep. De Capo had advised against it and made her promise; one slip and she would fall, he had also told Evelyn she was not to climb up there.
Evelyn looked at her mistress sceptically, ‘My Lady, please!’
‘I promise,’ said Blanche, ‘now, go and see him, I’ll be fine, besides I’m sure Ralf will be up here with me soon, he said he wanted to talk about our life after this siege is over, and I’m sure it will be soon, once the King arrives.’
Evelyn smiled, ‘Thank you my Lady. If I see Sir Ralf I will tell him where you are, and I hope he doesn’t find you in the tower!’
Blanche gave a small laugh and waved Evelyn away before turning back to watch the sun rise.
~
The drawbridge guarding the entrance to the Fore building was lowered. De Capo stood with Sir Roger, FitzAlan, Sir John and Sir Geoffrey as the doors were opened letting the daylight flood the room. A number of the garrison were standing inside the first floor entrance, armed and ready to repel any rebels if this was some sort of trick. Despite the truce being protected by the word of the Earl of Leicester, de Capo and Sir Roger were both cautious men and would always prepare for the worst.
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