Lord Geoffrey's Fancy

by Alfred Duggan

  He was through and away before anyone could make a move to stop him. We gazed after him, chiefly from envious longing to possess such a beautiful little horse. But no one tried to pursue, for no destrier could overtake that little whirlwind.

  We later heard that the Saracen hackney carried the Sebastocrator without stopping from the plain of Andreville to the castle of Mistra; where he arrived, still clad in his nightgown, so swiftly that he bore the first news of his own defeat. As a prisoner he would have been worth a fat ransom, but perhaps it was better so. Nothing so demoralises a garrison as the sudden arrival of a frightened commander-in-chief, well ahead of his troops.

  Sir John dropped his reins to tug at his helm with his one useful hand. The sergeant who had taken his banner helped him to remove it. When his head was free he stared at his followers, still with the unmoved face of a warrior; even in this supreme moment of victory he did not smile.

  "Well, gentlemen, that's that," he said. "The banner of Ville-hardouin is where I said I would plant it. Ville Gagnte, one might say, except that this isn't a town. Dismiss. Stand down. Go off and get rich. Don't sit there cheering. Don't shout my name. The banner of Villehardouin led you to battle and the banner of Villehardouin gained the victory."

  "But I shall climb Ararat to tell them in Noah's Ark that Sir John de Catabas bore the banner," someone shouted. We sat our horses in line, cheering again and again; until we saw that the servants of the Sebastocrator were slipping away to plunder on their own account, and we must move off to forestall them.

  Henceforth no one ever thought of Sir John as a cuckold. He was known throughout Lamorie and Italy as the victor of Brenice, the name of the little hamlet where the Grifons had pitched their camp. For the rest of his life he basked in glory and ease and honour. Perhaps he was happy; I hope so. But it was impossible to fathom the mind of such a devoted and inarticulate knight.

  After we had been dismissed my first action was to seek out my son. Geoffrey was unhurt, proud and delighted and almost mad with excitement. On his little round buckler was a scratch, to prove that a foeman had struck at him; though I myself think he had damaged it by bumping into a rider beside him. He admitted honestly that so far as he knew he had not killed anyone. But he had faced death, and ridden in a glorious victory, all before his eighth birthday. I knew that when he grew up the honour of the Briwerrs would be safe in his keeping. I have been as fortunate in my children as in my wife.

  We took very rich plunder: food and wine, silk and cloth of gold, arrows and flimsy but decorative eastern mail. We found very little gold or silver, for the Turks who had ravaged our villages cany their valuables in their belts day and night. But in the pavilion of the Sebastocrator there were a golden chalice and paten stolen from Our Lady of Isova, and a number of holy books bound in silver. These did not make us any richer, since we must return them to the shrine; but to recover them gave us the pleasant feeling that we were avenged on the sacrilegious plunderers. My share was a length of silk dyed the deep scarlet reserved for princes of the imperial house; there was enough of it to make a gown for Melisande. Little Geoffrey got an enamelled belt, with a figure of St. Theodore on the clasp; a thing of no intrinsic value, but a pleasant memento of his first battle. It would give him an opening to boast of his adventures in the company of other pages.

  Best of all, we took more than a thousand horses, chiefly Grifon hackneys. The others were ugly, long-haired Turkish ponies, too shaggy and bad-tempered to carry a knight in battle but gallant and sure-footed on a journey. There were no destriers, and few heavy horses of any kind; in the east they don't breed them.

  The common soldiers of the Grifon army just vanished into the landscape; on foot they slipped into the dense woods which covered the foothills. Some got back to Mistra, some were killed by our peasants; but a great many of them disappeared for ever. Either they died in the forest, being townsmen who could not fend for themselves; or they joined up with the Esclavon bandits in the mountains. The Grifon commanders at Mistra had to fetch reinforcements from Asia.

  The hired Turks rejoined their paymaster in a body, unharmed. These nomads never stray far from their horses, even in camp; they never scatter, either, even if they must flee. A few minutes after we broke into the camp they were mounted; but their leaders had a look at the battle and decided that there was no point in helping Grifons who were already beaten. The Turks rode back to Mistra, very ready to defend themselves if anyone should bar their way. So the wicked infidel mercenaries escaped unhurt, while the civilised Grifons lost heavily. But then the Grifons were more to be blamed, for introducing Turkish savages into a Christian land.

  After dividing the plunder we marched a little way to the southeast, to make sure that no enemy could get near Andreville. If we had followed up resolutely we might have frightened the Emperor's men clear out of Mistra, though if they had closed the gates of that strong castle we had neither foot nor engines for a siege. But Sir John refused to lead a band of three hundred cripples to the invasion of a well-defended province; he said that at Brenice God had granted us an unexpected victory, but that it would be unmilitary to base a plan of campaign on expectation of a string of further miracles.

  So we remained halted in the barony of La Glisere. Perhaps we missed a great chance of freeing our land from invaders; certainly the chance has never come again, and the Emperor still holds Mistra. But I myself was very glad to wait until Prince William had joined us with the knight-service of Lamorie, and so were most of our band; so we cannot complain.

  Within a few days the Prince brought up his men, though the knights of Satines still lingered at home. There was a great feast in honour of Sir John, and a solemn Te Deum among the ruins of Our Lady of Isova. But the Prince did not think himself strong enough to advance against Mistra so late in the season, and after clearing up a few bands of Grifon stragglers we were dismissed to our homes for the winter.

  At Carytena we had a great welcome; Christmas began in the middle of Advent, when we should have been fasting but for our Crusading privilege. But though we tried to be merry we could not forget the absence of Sir Geoffrey. The lady Isabel presided at the high table; it was generally known that in future she would spend more time in Carytena. But we all felt a bit ashamed of ourselves because the lord who held our allegiance was behaving shamefully.

  We had heard nothing from him, and now that winter had closed the sea no news could be expected before the spring. At the height of the panic caused by the Grifon invasion he had sailed with madam Jeanne from the harbour of Clarence; they had slipped across unnoticed in the throng of fugitives, and there had been no open scandal. But later his absence when every knight was desperately needed had made his desertion notorious throughout Romanie. We dreaded the coming of spring, when the army would muster and we would have to answer awkward questions from the knights of other baronies.

  The legal position was also in a tangle, which did not affect landholding vassals but might cause trouble for household knights. Sir Geoffrey was guilty of a felony, default of military service. If the Prince chose to bring an action in the High Court the barony of Escorta must escheat to its overlord. In the meantime, pending legal action, Sir Geoffrey remained enfeoffed of his land—provided he was still alive. But he had vanished without trace, and one day he must die. There would be endless rumours about his whereabouts, and a clear field for every kind of impostor and bogus claimant. A fee always suffers when its lord is absent; but when the lord is not only absent but missing things are very much worse.

  A few days before Christmas I talked over our future plans with Melisande. Ought we to leave Carytena of our own accord, before the new lord began to cut down expenses by dismissing household knights ? I wanted to try my luck elsewhere, without waiting to be moved on; but that was chiefly because my pride would suffer if I were dismissed. In France and Italy I had always left my employers of my own free will, and some of them had begged me to stay longer.

  "Whatever happens we won't sta
rve," said Melisande cheerfully. "In Romanie there is always room for another good knight from the west. If no Frank will hire you any ruler of the Grifons would be glad of your sword among his mercenaries. But service as a mercenary is no life for a family man. You live from month to month, or at most from one Christmas livery to the next. In the end you will be too old to ride, or perhaps disabled by wounds or disease. Then you draw no more pay, and what becomes of your wife and children ? Whereas if you stay here Sir Geoffrey will give you a fee when he comes back."

  "When he comes back.... Have you any reason to suppose he will come back, or that if he does he will continue as baron of Escorta? Besides, I'm not sure I want to serve a felon knight. It would look like condoning his disgraceful conduct. For years I have enjoyed the privilege of a Crusader, and it seems only decent that I should use my sword in the real Holy Land. Over there things are looking up. At any moment the barons of Acre may push inland, and then there will be fees to distribute. Or if you don't want to leave these parts, where you know the language and the people, I might ask Prince William to take me into his household, or try my luck among the islands. The Venetians pay well, though they never give you a fee; and I could sit in a boat, urging on the rowers, long after I am too old to ride a destrier."

  "There is more to sea-fighting than urging on the rowers. It's a skilled craft, and you are too old to learn it. As to seeking your fortune in the Holy Land, that's plain ridiculous. I don't mind if you go there for a single campaign, to do your duty and avoid some of your time in Purgatory; though your family will have to live very simply while you are on pilgrimage. But you know as well as I do that the barons of Acre are very near final defeat. If the King of France with all his power couldn't regain Jerusalem the single lance of Sir William Briwerr won't do it. No, if you want to leave Escorta you must go to Prince William. Why not stay here? One day things will come right again."

  "Why do you say that? Sir Geoffrey is a disgraced felon. We don't know where he is, or whether he wants to come back again."

  "We know Sir Geoffrey, that's why. When you see him again you will be eager to follow him, and every Frank in Romanie will help him to get out of his scrape. If he should die in mortal sin, which God forbid, there will be a fault in the scales when St. Michael comes to weigh his soul. He can get out of any trouble, just because he's Sir Geoffrey. Even the Grifons, who hate us, treated him well when he was their prisoner. Besides, what has he done that was so very terrible? He ran away with another man's wife, and as a faithful wife myself I must deplore it. But it's a thing that has been done before. Come now, if you had caught him in bed with madam Jeanne here in the castle, would you have felt it your duty to leave the service of such a recreant?"

  "That's different," I said in exasperation. A husband must always think carefully before he expounds the male view of chastity to his wife. "When we marry we promise fidelity, and a good knight should never break a promise. But there are promises and promises. I am not in charge of Sir Geoffrey's morals—though someone is and he will have to answer for them in the next world. All the same, adultery is not an unforgivable sin. I wouldn't mind if Sir Geoffrey had seduced every lady in Carytena—except one, of course. He could keep ten lemans in his solar, and his knights would make allowances. Jeanne may be the wife of his vassal, but he did not use his lordship to get her. All that part of it is wrong, but not so wrong as to disgrace him. But he was needed to defend his people, and he wasn't there. That's what I can't stomach."

  Since Melisande seemed to be agreeing with me so far, after a pause I added: "What makes you so certain he will come back?"

  "Because he never loved little Jeanne, and if he has to choose between them he will choose Carytena, which he does love. Poor Sir Geoffrey! It's all part of this silly business of being the best knight in all Romanie. That's a whole-time job, and he can never sit back and enjoy his happy life. He must be gallant and gay and a terror with the ladies, when all the time he would rather be chatting with his falconers or persuading his peasants to keep their goats away from his saplings. Jeanne made all the running, you know. She caught him, he didn't catch her. But she never got into his bed, which made her all the more desirable. Now he's got her; for the last half-year he has had her and nothing else, if he is really travelling under a false name. No tournaments, no jolly boasting in hall as the wine goes round, no hawking, no audience of experts when he dances. Just Jeanne, who has heard all his stories and is too young to know any stories of her own. I expect he is looking out for an honourable excuse to come back, with or without her. That's why I say he will return."

  "He will return? And I shall forgive him? You are sure? Then I suppose we ought to stay here."

  "Of course we must stay. I have just thought of the clinching reason. A knight should have thought of it first, instead of leaving it to his lady. Next spring the war will begin again, and you are still a knight of Escorta. For you to leave now would be as bad as anything you impute to Sir Geoffrey. If the lady Isabel keeps us through the winter your sword must serve her in the next campaign. Now are you satisfied?"

  On hearing such a definite expression of opinion any prudent husband must concur.

  13. TURKS AND GRIFONS

  In Carytena we were not actually hungry, but it was a poor Christmas. Outside, on the high plain and in the deep valleys, our peasants starved. Raiding Turks had driven off the stock and spoiled the crops; the villagers had saved the vintage, which came about the time of the glorious battle of Brenice, but otherwise they had nothing to show for a year's hard work. The Esclavons were bolder than ever, with Sir Geoffrey absent. Throughout Lamorie our grip was weakening; it seemed that Frankish rule over any part of Romanie was on the way out.

  From her high chair on the dais the lady Isabel still ruled the little world of her castle. But her position was insecure; a childless wife could not hold her husband's fee indefinitely, still less could a childless widow hold it in dower. As soon as the war left Prince William leisure to attend to civil affairs he would presumably grant Escorta to some vassal better able to render due service. In addition, we all knew that the lady Isabel disliked Carytena and would feel happier in Satines, where her brother would make her very welcome. Nevertheless she sat in her high chair, looking very stately and worshipful, from the early winter dusk until the late Christmas bedtime, keeping in her hands the direction of all the barony's affairs, civil and military.

  Since she so gallantly did her duty we all backed her up and made things easy for her. She was spared one tiresome difficulty that sometimes bothers lady regents; there was no criticism of the constable who commanded her knights in the absence of her lord. Sir John de Catabas was the hero of the day; there was talk that Prince William might give him command of the whole knight-service of Lamorie. The Prince was in poor health and growing old, so that he was reluctant to lead his knights in person. But such an appointment, though it might have turned out very well, would have appeared ridiculous. A great lord cannot retire, for reasons of age and infirmity, in favour of a vassal even older than himself and disabled by rheumatism. Instead it was made known that Sir Ancelin de Toucy would lead all Lamorie to battle. No one could object to him. He was descended from the royal house of France, and so fitted to command great lords; and he was experienced in warfare against the Grifons. The only thing against him was that he was landless, and that would soon be put right.

  Meanwhile the utmost decorum reigned in our threadbare and underfed castle. Sir John never spoke of his missing wife, or took any steps to win another lady in her place. I think he had almost forgotten his marriage, in his new-found glory as hero of an almost miraculous victory. The lady Isabel had apparently no favourites; she took pains never to be left alone with a man, which is easy enough in a castle crowded with its winter garrison. It was a very dull Christmas, with everyone setting to the right partner. Even courteous love, songs and sighs and attentions that mean nothing and are intended to be meaningless, were frowned on from the dais.

&nb
sp; In early spring came orders for the mesnie of Escorta to join the muster at Nicies. It was known that the Grifons of Mistra were preparing another great army of invasion. Their Turkish mercenaries had remained in Lamorie throughout the winter; and their agents had been busy among our Grifon subjects, so that many decent sergeants forswore their allegiance to join the banner of their race and religion. I say "decent" sergeants because Grifons break an oath without holding themselves dishonoured, since vassalage and fealty mean little to them; but they believe the defence of their schismatic church to be the first duty of a warrior. I had lived long enough in Romanie to see that these men were acting honourably by their own lights.

  The Grifons also took into pay bands of Esclavons, half-armed scoundrels who are useless on a genuine field of battle. But they knew the country and they were ruthless plunderers, so that it would be hard for us to protect our peasants. Even those village elders who last year had delivered up the Grifon spies sent word to Sir John that their young men would join the invaders. In Escorta the peasants liked the house of Bruyere, but affection never kept a Grifon from joining what he believes to be the stronger side.

  The most ominous news was that at last the Emperor Michael had been persuaded that his brother the Sebastocrator was not a very good captain. At Pelagonie he had beaten us by shooting down his own mercenaries; but that is not a trick which can be repeated, and at Brenice his flight had been disgraceful. The rumour ran that the Turks had refused to serve under him, insisting on a braver leader. But the Emperor's brother could not be deprived of his command. So the Emperor adjusted matters by keeping the Sebastocrater in supreme command, and sending as his military adviser a nobleman of great energy and personal courage, one Cantacuzene. This Cantacuzene would charge in front while the Sebastocrator gave good advice from the rear. It looked as though this time the Grifons would perhaps fight with greater determination.