by Gahan Hanmer
"All right, Sire, since you put it that way."
"You've always had greatness of heart, Jack. Now it's time for you to take your place in the world."
"If I have a world to take my place in, I owe that to you, Sire."
For the next few miles the jubilant spirit prevailed, and we were joined along the way by perhaps another hundred and fifty peasants with their weapons. But as we neared Lord Hawke's boundaries, the army began to quiet down; and when we came in sight of the bridge, even the talking stopped altogether. The rhythm of the horses' hooves and the clinking of our arms was all the noise we made as we marched across that bridge.
If the Dugdales' fief had a stylish and manicured look to it, Lord Hawke's fief looked gloomy and forbidding. I cannot account for this in any way. Maybe it was only my imagination; maybe it was because gray clouds were beginning to gather and the weather was turning chilly. Whatever it was, I'm sure I wasn't the only one to notice the change of atmosphere as we crossed into Lord Hawke's domain.
"Now that the invasion has begun, Sire," I said, "I'd like very much to have both hands free. Who do you think I ought to give this standard to?"
Albert was peering down the road ahead and scanning the trees on both sides of the road. He shrugged impatiently. "Pick someone," he said.
I looked around, and my eyes fell on Rudy Strapp. But he shook his head; he didn't want it. He had already slipped his buckler over his arm and was checking his weapons.
Gordon was riding with the soldiers. He was the dutiful type. He probably would not object. On the other hand, if we were attacked, I wanted him busting heads with that iron-tipped staff, not waving the flag. Somewhere in this crowd was the perfect person, someone who would appreciate the glory of it. Someone who . . .
"Renny," I shouted. Renny spurred his mount forward, and when he came abreast I thrust the staff out to him. "I'm making you bannerman. Whatever you do, don't drop it. That's important." I tried to make my voice rumble with authority, for I didn't want any argument from him. But he was flattered and grasped the staff happily. He fell in behind us with the flag held high and billowing out in the cold wind that was beginning to pick up.
"That's a dangerous job you've given him," Albert said to me. "I could never have chosen him to do that. But the king carries the standard for the whole kingdom, and if he's going to be king after me . . . Your instinct is good, Jack."
"Do you think we're going to be in a fight?"
"I don't know. I'm very pleased with the turnout from the peasants. I think Lord Hawke would be foolish to provoke us."
"Can he muster support among his own peasants?"
"Yes, I think he could, but not spontaneously like this. He would have to go out and round them up. It would take a lot of time. We have several hundred people on this march, do you realize that?" he said with a gratified smile. "And every one of them came gladly of his own volition except possibly you." He gave me a smile to show that it was just a joke despite the truth in it.
"Did you ask for volunteers?"
"No, not exactly. I made it known that my knights and I would be paying Lord Hawke a royal visit. I made it known that my friends would be welcome. It's hard to explain. In a way, I didn't do anything. A bird flew out of my window, and that bird turned into a thousand birds. You have to live here awhile before you can understand how certain things happen."
"But you invited Dugdale and Griswold."
"Yes, they have an obligation to support the throne—as does Lord Hawke, for that matter. Dugdale is loyal to me because it's the proper thing to be. Griswold is too ironical for real loyalty, but he suffers from boredom, as ironical people do, and he would never miss anything like this. Dugdale and Griswold go around together quite a bit. They complement each other."
"What about Bennett?"
"Hoho! You've been doing your homework. That's good. For your information, Lord Bennett goes to bed sozzled every night, and is no good for anything before midday. One reason we're up so early is so that Lord Hawke can't muster any support from Bennett."
"Would he support Lord Hawke at a more convenient time of day?"
"Possibly so. He and Lord Hawke went to the same college, and Bennett looks up to him. But at this hour, no. I don't think Bennett will figure into this at all."
"Yet four hundred people jumped up at the crack of dawn to support you today. You must be doing something right."
"Yes, and because the whole valley talked of nothing else yesterday except the warrior knight who sent Mike and Mitch to hell. Oh, I'm not saying my people don't love me. I'm not saying they don't approve of the way I rule. But it was a certain extra something—a catalyst, a spirit, a legend in the making—that had them tying their sickles onto poles this morning and changing their bowstrings. Tomorrow or the next day or the day after that . . . who knows how long that spirit could be counted on."
"So you had to ride this morning."
"Everyone at the council thought so."
Since we crossed the bridge, I hadn't seen a single person. The river road was empty of carts and flocks and people. After we passed Mora's, there were an increasing number of farms that could be seen from the road, but no one was about.
"Everyone's gone to the moon," I said, wrapping my cloak around me against the chilly wind.
"No, no," said Albert. "They wouldn't miss this. Gordon!"
Gordon caught up with us. "Yes, Sire?"
"You have the sharp eyes, Gordon. Since we crossed the bridge, have you seen anyone in the woods?"
Gordon laughed. "Yes, Sire. There are as many children watching us from the woods this morning as there are trees."
"Did you see any soldiers or bowmen?"
"No, Sire."
"Picts?"
"None."
"Take two men and ride up ahead."
"Yes, Sire."
Soon we came out of the woods into open farmland that stretched as far west from the river as I could see. Across the fields we could see scattered groups of people, five or ten in a clump, watching us from a distance.
"Are these fields farmed commonly, Sire?"
"It's rather complicated how the land is apportioned year by year. I'll explain it to you when we have more time."
"And there are individual farms also?"
"Yes. Those families still owe service to their lord's domain, and they still have to tithe toward food storage for winter rationing, but they organize their holding as they see fit."
"I met a young woman who has a farm of her own. Her father is dead now, and her mother is sick."
"Is that the young woman who helped you?"
"Yes, Sire."
"I know her. Blonde and sweet-smelling, is she not?"
"Yes, that's her."
"And what interest have you in Mora the Rose?" he said, with a penetrating look.
"Well, for one thing, she was raped. She feels afraid for herself and also for her child."
"Fear and violence in this fief have gone unchecked far too long, and I am very much at fault, Jack. The situation has to be changed. That's why we're here today. That's why you're here. Well, Leo," he said, turning to Sir Leo, "we've come this far. What are we going to do now?"
"That depends on our objective, Sire."
"Our objective is to confront Lord Hawke and force him to change his ways."
"Then I would say it depends on how aggressively the manor is defended. If the way is blocked by soldiers, we will have to cut our way through. If we can achieve the manor house without a fight, then I think we should surround it. We have plenty of people to do that, and it will make a good demonstration of our power."
"And then?"
"Then we call for a parley or send in an ultimatum."
"And if it's rejected?"
"Then we have no choice but to cut our way in. We will have to capture Lord Hawke."
"There is a chance here for a lot of killing."
"Yes, Sire."
"Couldn't we lay siege to the manor?"
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"Yes, we could, but we would lose our momentum. We can't stop now and wait. We have to see this through to its conclusion, whatever that may be."
"Yes, you're right. Thank you, Sir Leo. You're quite right."
"Your servant, Sire, as always."
"Kindly take charge of surrounding the manor."
"Yes, Sire."
"Well, at least now we know what we're going to do, eh? Here comes Gordon. Well, what does it look like up there?"
"Everything is very quiet around the manor, Sire," said Gordon. "I didn't see any guards or soldiers. No one seems to be about at all."
"A trap, perhaps?"
"It seems very suspicious, Sire. I don't understand it."
"Well, let's have a look. Are we ready, Leo? Forward then! Quick march!"
We rounded the bend at a brisk trot, and just as Gordon had said, there was no defending force, no soldiers, no guards, no obstruction. There was the manor house, much like Dugdale's without all the flower gardens, and the front gate was standing open. It was very quiet, for the wind had died down; quiet and unnatural, as if everyone had gone away on a cold day that was threatening rain, and left the door open.
Albert brought the column to a halt about fifty yards from the gate. He looked perplexed. "What do you think?" he asked me.
"I don't know. Don't ask me!" I felt very agitated. Several hundred people had gotten up early to make a show of force. Now that energy was backed up behind us. Had we led all these people to an empty manor house, and were we just going to turn around now and go home? The situation gave me a bad feeling. It was worse, I think, than if we had come upon a thorny barricade with fifty bowmen behind it.
"There's a light in the hall, Sire," said Gordon.
"Sir Leo," said Albert, "we will still surround the manor as quickly as can be done without confusion. In the event of a trap, you must do as you think best until we are in control of the situation."
"Thank you, Sire," said Sir Leo. "You can leave it to me."
"Ready now?" said Albert, and up went his arm. "Forward!"
It took no time at all to make our show of securing the manor. I was watching the upper windows as we circled, but the shutters remained closed. Sir Leo deployed the knights and the rest of the army quickly and efficiently, and for such a haphazard plan, everything seemed to be falling into place.
Albert, Sir Leo, Gordon and I rode in through the gate. The grounds seemed deserted. The cold wind was picking up again, and it blew our cloaks around and made them snap. Dismounting, we approached the great door on foot. At a nod from Albert, Gordon raised the heavy knocker and let it fall. The echo boomed hollowly inside.
Gordon was just reaching for the knocker again when Albert said, "Try the door."
Gordon swung the door out on its huge hinges and we entered the hall together. It was very quiet in the hall, but there was no feeling of peace in the stillness. I felt like putting my fingers in my ears, as if someone was screaming.
There, at the opposite end of the hall, was Lord Hawke. He stood behind a massive wooden chair, quite a masterpiece of woodcarving even at a distance. With his hands gripping the knobs on the upper corners of the chair back, he presented a strange image, like a captain at the wheel of his ship. That image was duplicated in the huge shadow cast by the fire in the hearth. All the way across the room, I could see his eyes glittering like broken glass.
We approached within half a dozen yards and then stopped. Though there were several of us and we had come with an army at our back, and though he was alone with only that massive chair for a prop, he didn't appear at much of a disadvantage. I had the feeling that he was deciding what to do with us, rather than the other way around, and that made me think again of traps or an ambush. Although he was wearing neither armor nor weapons, he looked very dangerous.
Finally he approached us. "Welcome, my liege," he said with an unpleasant smile. "What a pleasant surprise!"
"Where are your soldiers?" said Albert. "Where are your servants?"
"When I heard that you were leading an army here to tear me to pieces, I sent them all on holiday."
"Spare me the sarcasm," said the king. "Your plan is to give me nothing to attack. That is clever. Quite brilliant in fact. But suppose I simply take you and throw you into the dungeon?"
"That would be very ungrateful, seeing that you would hardly have a kingdom at all if not for me."
"What you say is true, but that is all very much in the past. At the present time you are wounding my kingdom daily for your pleasure in making people afraid of you. That must change and it must change now. If your lack of resistance today means that you are willing to alter your behavior considerably, it will spare me from a task which will be much more unpleasant for you than it will be for me."
"I'm sure that we can come to terms," said the duke in a nonchalant manner. "But I also have a word or two to say. For one thing, I do not welcome this false knight in my house. The others are welcome, but I would prefer that he be sent away, if not from the kingdom, then at least from my hall."
"I am sorry if his presence discomforts you, but he is my own true knight and I prefer to have him by my side. Is there anything else?"
"Yes. I am wondering why you choose to lead an army of peasants with scythes and pitchforks against your own nobility. Is part of your program of change to institute a democracy and to run for office?"
"I appreciate your sense of humor at a time like this."
"But I am not joking," said the duke, and the look in his eyes made me shiver. "It was a monarchy that you and I and the other nobles strove to create, was it not? How much more inconsistent can you possibly be than to lead a peasant army against me? It is even worse than your policy of giving them license to run naked in the woods instead of tending the land. If you would prefer to be some new kind of president, or an Indian chief, or just to be supremely popular, perhaps you should say so and stop calling yourself a king."
"On the contrary," said Albert, drawing himself up. "If I am disposed toward benevolence rather than tyranny, I am the better monarch. As for the Picts, they are a phenomenon which I wish to understand more clearly, and for the time being we will let them be. You are the one who has been forgetting who is king, and we are all here to remind you for the last time. This is that armed incursion which you once had the colossal nerve to forbid me to make. We have had more than enough of your threats and your posturing, and we are calling your bluff. Will you call your men in, and shall we have war? Would you like a few hours to prepare? I think the meadow by Half Moon Lake would be ideally suited if you have the stomach for it. Well, what say you?"
"My liege, I have no intention of hurling my few worthy servitors against your barefoot hordes."
"Gordon, call the guard," said Albert, and Gordon hurried out. The duke planted his feet, crossed his arms, and drew his chin to his chest. It was hard not to be impressed with his audacity. When Gordon returned with a half dozen men-at-arms, the king said, "Escort the duke to the gate."
"Don't touch me!" snapped the duke as one of the soldiers reached out to grasp his arm. The man pulled his hand back as if he'd been scorched. Ignoring the soldiers, the duke began to walk so briskly that his escort had to run to catch up to him.
A cry went up from the army when we came through the door, and then the chanting began: Albert! Albert! Albert! The duke planted himself in the center of the gate and shouted to Albert over the sound of the chanting. "Sire, I have done nothing to deserve this treatment, and I say to you in all seriousness that if you put me into that dungeon, we can never be friends again."
Albert held up his hand and the chanting subsided. "Choose for yourself, my lord duke," said Albert, raising his voice for all to hear. "There are a few things I'd like you to do for me, and the first is to disarm your soldiers. From now on they will dress in leather and carry a staff and a dirk as mine do. Do you concur or would you prefer to visit the dungeon?"
"Throw him in the dungeon! Into the dungeon wi
th him!" came a chorus of voices from the army, and Albert had to raise his hand again for quiet.
After a moment, the duke said, "Very well, I concur."
"Secondly," said the king, "there will be no more crossbows in my kingdom. Destroy the ones you have and make no more. Is this clear?"
"Very well, your majesty," said the duke, but he seemed distracted, as if he was thinking about something else entirely.
"Third, your soldiers must change their attitude completely. No one is to be unreasonably detained by them. No one is to be annoyed by them without an extremely good cause. Those who cannot change their ways immediately will immediately cease to be soldiers. Do you agree?"
"Yes, my liege," said the duke, and that brought a great roar of approval from the army.
Albert drew his sword and held it up by the blade in his gloved fist like a cross in front of the duke. "Swear on your holy oath," said the king.
"My king," said the duke, making the sign of the cross on his breast and touching his fingers to his lips, "I swear on my holy oath to uphold your edicts and to honor your sovereignty as long as you live." Then he turned to the army, and with a wave of his hand, he cried out, "Long live the king!"
"Long live the king!" cried the whole army.
"Long live the king!" cried Leo, and the great shout echoed between the mountains. The people were shouting and whistling and stamping and throwing their hats in the air. The duke, without asking permission, turned on his heel, strode back through the gate, up the path, into his house, and slammed the door. While the cheering and stamping continued outside, Lord Hawke's manor seemed wrapped in its own brooding silence.
Chapter Eleven
"And that was the end of it," I said to Jenna. We were both still naked after making love on the shore of a small secluded lake. "We gathered up the army and marched away." Days had passed since our bloodless victory over Guy Hawke, but this was the first time I had managed to get some time alone with Jenna.
"Albert said he made a speech."