5. SIR GEOFFREY STANDS TRIAL
The lady Isabel was waiting for us in the inner bailey, quite calm. When Sir Geoffrey dismounted and kissed her hand she said to him: "My lord, forgive me. My advice has brought you to ruin."
"Nonsense, my dear," he answered briskly. "In the first place, your father is a nicer man than my uncle and I followed him of my own free will. In the second, we are not yet beaten. This castle is as strong as Carytena, and much roomier. We shall sit here and make faces at uncle William until he tires of the siege and goes away."
Then he stood on the mounting block to address us. "We shall hold this castle. We can hold it for as long as we like. But first we must get organised. We are the Megaskyr's guests. So long as you are in his castle you will obey his commands, as soon as he gives them, without arguing or referring the question to me. But I know you are sensible men, who would do that anyway. Now straightaway I want you all to go with the steward and find your sleeping quarters. All the men of Escorta will sleep together, so that we can fight as a unit. Disarm by your bed-places, and then do what you can for your horses. I shall propose to the Megaskyr that tonight his men guard the castle, since they know it and won't lose their way in the dark. I shall also inquire about the prospects of supper. If I get my way you will rest tonight, after caring for your horses. But you will be on guard in the morning. Now be off. I shall tell you the news, in the stables, as soon as I have seen the Megaskyr."
Of course all our baggage had been lost in the rout, stolen by our servants or captured by the enemy. Our servants and grooms were also missing, except for those few who had stayed behind in the castle. We would live rough for at least the next few days. But the greatest of my worries was quickly set at rest; while I was disarming Melisande came to me.
She had clung to the corner allotted to us in the gatehouse before the army rode out. Our bedding was intact, and my little bag of money. She herself was not so frightened as I had expected, though this would be her first siege. But the news she told me was depressing.
"The chief cook is tearing out his hair in handfuls," she said with a rueful grin. "Only three days ago he prepared a great feast to mark the opening of the campaign. He used up all the sugar and white flour and fresh meat in the castle. He thought there was plenty of time to get in more supplies. We all thought so. I suppose I knew we might be beaten, because that can always happen in war; but I never expected to see you all back defeated on the evening of the second day. Now the Megaskyr has ordered another great feast, to hearten Sir Geoffrey and Stromoncourt and Pallavicini and his other allies; and the cook has nothing but the salt meat and biscuit of the campaign stores."
"Well, I can live on biscuit and salt meat, and so can anyone accustomed to war. But you won't like it, my darling."
Then another thought struck me, a dismaying thought.
"The castle is pretty full, many more than the normal garrison. If there is any fresh food the allied lords and the great ladies will have first call on it, and none will reach us. I wonder what they have as a campaign reserve? They ought to have food for a year, especially in war-time. But a sensible castellan turns over his salt meat every year, before it goes putrid. I suppose we are not far off harvest? I can never get used to a harvest in June, instead of September. I bet our stores are very low, ready to be replenished. Say six months supply for the garrison, and we are many more than a normal garrison. Look here, sweetheart. If anyone offers to sell you food, either a luxury or ordinary rations, you buy without haggling over the price. And don't bother if it's been stolen, either."
Melisande stared straight into my eyes. "Shall I slip over the wall? Remember, if I have to I can pass as a native. I might get back to Carytena on foot; if the countryside is unsafe I could take sanctuary in Our Lady of Satines, only two days' walking from here."
I thought it over, and decided against the plan. "It's brave of you to suggest it, but there are too many risks. If you carry money someone will probably steal it; if you go penniless you must beg your bread, and that would be unseemly. There is always the danger of rape. True knights should never rape ladies, even the ladies of their enemies. But it happens from time to time all the same."
"Would you mind very much if I were raped?" she asked, in that irritating way women have of intruding personal matters into a serious discussion of military operations.
"Of course I would mind, though I would do my best never to mention it in your presence. Serious consequences would follow. I would be bound to wage war on Prince William for the rest of my life; and Sir Geoffrey, as a true lord, would be bound to maintain the quarrel of his man. There could never be peace between Escorta and Lamorie. And all to save you from the short commons of a siege."
"If the castle falls by assault I may be raped anyway," said Melisande with a shrug.
"That is so, and you are right to face the possibility. People of our birth must endure the chances of war; we are not peasants, to dodge the misfortunes that befall our lords. But if that should happen I would not be alive to see it, and I suppose you would be dead soon after. An assault of that kind leaves no survivors."
"But of course there won't be an assault," Melisande said cheerfully. "The Prince doesn't want to kill his nephew, any more than he wants to start a bloodfeud with all the noble houses of Romanie. People don't go to that kind of extreme when nothing more is at stake than a disputed homage."
"We'll hope so, anyway. There's nothing we can do about it. Perhaps I was wrong to bring you to this war, though my own conduct has been blameless. I did nothing but follow the lord who holds my fealty. But it may not be a long siege. The Megaskyr has been beaten, and he knows it. He is intelligent enough to climb down gracefully and fix up a peace."
We need not have worried. Every Frank in Romanie was eager to fix up a peace; and they went about it with the supple readiness to compromise which babies breathe in with the air of that land.
After a supper of biscuit and salt pork we passed an unpleasant night. Our horses were in a shocking state; my Banker was permanently broken down. Nearly half the knights of Escorta were missing, though it seemed likely they were prisoners, not dead; it is difficult to kill a mailed knight, unless you murder him deliberately after you have got him down.
By midnight our Venetian crossbows were exchanging arrows with the besiegers, who had crept close to the wall. We had not tried to hold the flimsy rampart of the city. The castle, and the neighbouring tower of the St. Omers, could shelter all the Franks in the place, and the Grifon burgesses were glad to stand neutral in this quarrel of their foreign lords. After making themselves snug in the town the Prince's men settled down to starve us out.
In the morning Sir Geoffrey took over a sector of the walls. We sheltered close behind the merlons, and did not try to shoot back. There was no point in killing a sergeant or two and making the Prince angry. But the walls must be manned day and night, or the castle might fall to a surprise escalade.
It was very dull sitting about in armour in the hot sun; but in any war there is more boredom than excitement. Then at midday things began to stir.
The besiegers blew trumpets for a parley. We stood up in the embrasures, hanging our shields over the wall to make a good show and prove that the castle was strongly defended. The Megaskyr called from a window that no envoy would be admitted; all negotiation must be conducted in shouts across the ditch. That is standard procedure at the opening of any parley, for fear the garrison will suspect they are being secretly betrayed.
But the envoy who appeared was the Archbishop of Satines, a vassal of the Megaskyr for his temporalities and in this war a cautious neutral. We could not bar the gate against the Archbishop of the province (though Estives has its own bishop, as does nearly every inhabited hamlet in Romanie). The Archbishop was allowed in, with two unarmed clerks; and all the leaders settled down to a conference in the solar.
The conference continued until sunset, with clerks scurrying to and fro through the gate with messages. We all fe
lt more cheerful. If a conference lasts a long time it must end in peace; no one can keep on defying his enemies all day.
At sunset the Archbishop rode out, and sentries relieved us on the wall. We sat down to our supper, two biscuits each and a fragment of salt pork. As soon as we had gobbled it, for we were very hungry, Sir Geoffrey summoned the mesnie of Escorta to a private meeting in the mews. We squatted on the floor below the restless hooded falcons.
"We are all in this together," he began, "and I won't make peace without the consent of all of you. But I think we have got you pretty good terms, and I advise you to accept them. We lost the battle, so uncle William must have the homage of Satines and so on. That's only fair, and it would be silly to dispute it. But he is not angry with the lesser knights who followed their lords as they were sworn to do. All he wants from the knights of Escorta is two oaths: that you will never again bear arms against the Prince of Lamorie, and that you will serve loyally the baron of Escorta, whoever he may. be."
He paused to let this sink in.
"What about my fee of Crevecoeur? Do I keep it?" asked one of the greater vassals.
"You do, if you take oath as I said. That's the point of it. The household knights may garrison Carytena under the command of Sir John de Catabas until the baron of Escorta arrives to take charge. All the prisoners taken at Mount Caride will be freed on payment of a moderate ransom. The rest of you keep horse and arms, no worse off than you were before the battle. No one suffers, except the two or three unlucky knights who got themselves killed in the mellay; and that's a thing that might happen to anyone, in a tournament for example. Now, are you all willing to promise what uncle William demands of you?"
We all shouted at once, saying the same thing in different words. We would not swear a peace unless Sir Geoffrey were included in it; we would not abandon him to his enemies.
"That's very kind of you, and no more than I expected," he said easily, holding up his hand for silence. "As you have already noted, I am not included in this peace. All the same, by submitting to the Prince of Lamorie you will help me. It will put him in a good temper. I don't want to harp on it, but I must remind you again that he won the war. Uncle William must have what he fought for."
"And you can't defend me even if you wish to, because I haven't a leg to stand on," he continued with a cheerful smile. "There's no doubt that uncle William held my homage, and that I made war on my lord. At the time I thought it a good idea, and indeed my wife still thinks so. But it wasn't, as has been proved in the field. So I must stand my trial for felony, and I am willing to face it."
There was another roar of disapproval. Sir Geoffrey waited for it to subside, and continued undismayed. "That's not so bad as it sounds, you know. The Archbishop has been fixing things a little. No bishop likes uncle William, for one reason or another. This is what has been arranged. I am a felon. I must admit my guilt and plead for mercy. The Megaskyr is equally guilty, as has been proved on the field. Yet no one blames him very much. We shall be tried together, that's been promised. And we shall be judged, not by an angry uncle William, but by our peers, the barons of Lamorie. The High Court of the Principality will not be hard on my father-in-law. If they let him off with a caution they can scarcely hang me for the same offence. The worst that can come to me is forfeiture of my lands. Then I shall go to Acre to fight for the Holy Sepulchre, and I dare say some of my friends will follow me. Uncle William can't keep you here if you want to go on Crusade. The Archbishop of Satines, and for that matter his own Archbishop of Patras, wouldn't stand for it. Now that I have explained everything will you take oath as I advise, and make peace with your lawful overlord?"
We were persuaded. We promised to take oath as soon as the Archbishop arrived with his relics and witnesses. When the meeting broke up I ran off" to tell Melisande. She understood the implications of any political agreement more clearly than I could.
"It only shows that it never pays to rob a clerk," she said as soon as she had heard the story. "Prince William turned the Archbishop of Patras out of his palace, to make it into a castle. But the Megaskyr has always given God His due. When all the Frankish lords of Romanie are at war with one another of course the clergy must arbitrate; and they have given the Megaskyr the best of the deal. Already he owes homage for Naples and Argues; now he will owe homage for Satines also. Otherwise he loses nothing. Sir Geoffrey's life must be safe. He may lose his barony, but they won't hang him. He won't even be powerless when he comes up for trial. His followers go free, with horse and arms; and as I see it there's nothing to stop them attending the parliament. They will be sworn vassals of Lamorie, owing suit of court. It's a great deal better, isn't it, than what your King John did to defeated rebels?"
The oath-swearing took three days, during which the castle of Estives continued formally under siege. We swore on holy relics, in the presence of the Archbishop. Prince William stood by, but we did not place our hands in his to swear fealty; for we were not his tenants in chief, but vassals of the future baron of Escorta. On the fourth day we marched out, with horse and arms and all our baggage. A garrison of the Prince's sergeants took over the castle of Estives.
After swearing fealty to the Prince the lords of Bondonice and La Sole rode off as free men to their own fees. The Megaskyr came out unarmed, to show he was a prisoner; but he was allowed to retire to his other castle of Satines until the parliament of Lamorie should be ready to judge him. All his knights went with him, armed; and so did the lady Isabel his daughter.
Sir Geoffrey alone was kept a close prisoner. He surrendered formally to his uncle, and was confined in the best guest-room in the castle of Estives. I feared that we might never see him again; the prisoners of King John used to die while awaiting trial. But Melisande told me not to be silly; all the barons of Lamorie were looking forward to this interesting suit, and if it did not come off they would rebel against Prince William.
We rode to Carytena, leaving our lord alone.
Our home had not changed. Sir John de Catabas had been genuinely neutral. The peasants paid their dues and the household knights drew their wages. The Esclavons gave us occupation, without being more than a nuisance.
Then it was time to ride to Nicies, for the parliament which would decide the fate of our barony. A small garrison of sergeants and Grifons remained in the castle, for no knight could bear to miss this crucial trial. We rode armed, but there were peaceful tunics and surcoats in our baggage. Sir John de Catabas warned us that to attend the parliament in mail might be considered provocative.
We brought our own food, and at Nicies slept in tents. But as lords came in from all over Frankish Romanie the place became very gay. On the outskirts the ground was level and open, which is rare in Lamorie. We could pass the time in jousting and hawking.
When the great day came Prince William rode in with a powerful and splendid mesnie. Sir Geoffrey was with him, but I was unable to see my lord; for he was still under close arrest, though servants told me he had been well fed and adequately looked after. There was no sign of the Megaskyr, and the place was full of rumours that he would not appear.
The parliament met on horseback, as is often the custom of Romanie. The mesnie of Escorta attended completely unarmed, and mounted on quiet hackneys; which was as well for me, since Banker was dead of his exertions and I was without a war-horse. Most of the knights of the parliament carried shield and sword to show their quality, though they did not wear mail. Sir John led us to a quiet corner of the field, where if we all shouted together the Prince might hear us and heed our advice; though it was unlikely that he would change his opinions to please us.
Then out of the low morning sunrise came riding a most gorgeous procession; the Megaskyr of Satines, in a silken surcoat of blue and gold chequers and a velvet cap of estate, mounted on a white hackney. He carried not even a dagger; but behind him rode all the knights of Satines in full mail, mounted on their war-horses.
There was a buzz of talk. Some said the Megaskyr would seize Pr
ince William from the midst of his parliament before his knights could arm and dress their ranks. But such treachery is not the custom of la Roche; when I saw in his train a group of ladies, including his daughter Isabel, I knew that he came in peace. Then a trumpet sounded and a herald proclaimed that the high and mighty prince Sir Guy de la Roche had come to hear the judgement of the parliament of Lamorie. There was no mention of a trial, for he had already admitted his guilt.
Dismounting, the Megaskyr stood before Prince William. A clerk handed a scroll to the Prince, from which he read a long indictment. Then he turned to the nine barons of the conquest sitting their horses behind him, and asked them to pronounce their verdict. There are in all twelve baronies of the conquest; but the Prince himself held one, and two were held by accused felons, Sir Geoffrey de Bruyere and Sir William de la Roche. That left only nine peers to judge them.
What followed was exquisitely funny. It must have been planned in advance, with a good many people in the secret; but the secret had been well kept, and the Prince was taken by surprise as much as the rest of us.
For a long minute there was silence. Then Sir John de Neuilly, marshal of Lamorie and baron of Passavant, spoke for his fellows.
"We cannot judge the Great Lord of Satines, for we are not his peers. He is more than a baron of the conquest. Only a King or an Emporor may judge him."
Prince William gaped in rage and astonishment. Among the lesser knights of the parliament the buzz of surprise soon gave way to chuckles of amusement. The Prince's most faithful vassals, who had ridden with him to the conquest of Satines, now openly avowed their disbelief in the justice of the cause to which their swords had brought victory! In Romanie Franks behave worse than they would at home, infected by the double-dealing of their Grifon neighbours; but this was an amazing display of barefaced duplicity.
Lord Geoffrey's Fancy Page 8