Desiree

by Roberta Gellis

  “That way, is it?” Alex mused. “Thank you for telling me, Godric. I can think of a way or two to deal with that problem. Yes.” He smiled briefly, not an expression of mirth or good humor, then continued, “Now, tomorrow afternoon I plan to take Lady Desiree to the fisherfolk between Nones and Vespers—likely closer to Vespers. But tomorrow morning I would like to go early, just at first light, and ride west, toward Seaford. Do you know the coast there, Godric? Are any of the men from that area?”

  Godric shrugged. “I’ve ridden the coast, of course, m’lord, but I don’t know what you mean by know it. I know where a ship is likely to put in—”

  “That’s exactly what I mean, Godric.”

  “Yes, m’lord, in that way I know the coast, and there are two men in the troop from Seaford or very near Seaford. I’ll bring them with us. How many men do you want?”

  “Four. No one will dare attack six armed men.”

  “No, m’lord, likely not, but there have been a few complaints about bandits.” Godric sighed softly. “God knows it was like the sun coming up to me when Sir Simon rode in. Peter used to tell me when to go out and how many men to take and I’d scour the woods and oftimes a word would be whispered in a trooper’s ear so we caught the outlaws before they did much harm. After Peter died… And then when Sir Frewyn was struck down…”

  Alex didn’t tell the man sharply that he was an idiot. He realized that Godric had been afraid to go out and leave the keep insufficiently protected. All he said was, “So then maybe we should take more men and do a scouring as we ride?”

  Godric nodded vigorously and began to tell Alex where he used to find the outlaws. Byford reached a long arm behind him and brought forth another mug, which he filled and offered to Alex, who took it with an absent nod of thanks. They were some time longer working out how best to accomplish both purposes and by the time the plans were settled, all three men were well pleased with themselves and each other.

  “Tomorrow at first light,” Alex said, and made his way to the forebuilding, up the stair, and into his chamber.

  Chapter Nine

  Alex’s party caught no outlaws, but found something that would serve his purpose even better. In a tiny cove not far from Seaford, he found a burned-out hut. That it had been the home of a fisher family or a family who made their living from the sea in other ways was certain. Although the boat was gone from the little rough pier of logs, scorched frames for hanging nets or smoking fish had collapsed not far from what had been the dwelling.

  At first the men seemed to think that the people had fled in their boat or gone willingly with the raiders and were carefully expressionless, however, Alex ordered a search and Godric soon found the scattered and scavenger-gnawed bones of two people, likely a man and a boy. Veiled expressions of mild contempt for Alex as an outlander who did not understand how things really were, changed to rage as over a trust betrayed.

  Alex said, “These are not friendly fellow seamen. They do not come to raid the rich inland farms or try to break into the keep to steal what they can. These are coming to England to take the land for themselves, not only from the nobles and the farmers but from the fisherfolk too.”

  Not that Alex thought the destruction of this fisherman’s property was any attempt to take it over. The cove was very isolated and he guessed the French had sought a safe place where they might land troops. They doubtless had killed the people to prevent them from betraying their landing, the fire might well have been an accident or the mistake of an overexcited fool. But Alex didn’t say that.

  Godric was outraged and told the tale of the fatal raid abroad in Seaford. Thus Alex’s orders that single men of suitable age be ready in the next few days to be selected by Lady Desiree for training in arms was readily accepted.

  More information of what invasion would bring became apparent from the news Alex brought on his return from the western border of Exceat property. He and his troop discovered that the tiny hamlet on the east bank of the mouth of the Ouse River had been put to the torch. While Godric and the men set about trying to find if anyone had survived or escaped, Alex had ridden north along the Ouse and found a raftlike craft to take him across the river into Newhaven.

  “Either it was a party of French going upriver to Lewes,” he said to Godric when he returned from an unsatisfactory interview with the mayor of Newhaven, who was not interested. “Or it was a party from Lewes who wanted no news of the arrival of the French to be sent east to Exceat.”

  “We found no one alive, just a few burned corpses of the old, we think.” Godric hesitated, continuing through stiff lips. “There was a baby. It died of hunger and thirst…just left outside one of the houses. If we had come a day sooner…” He cleared his throat. “Likely you are right about why the village was destroyed. But can we bring in more people here to give us warning?”

  “Not unless we want to plant a whole army. No, what I will do is find a place to make a hidden camp where the land rises and set watchers.”

  “But by the time they ride to Exceat and we ride back—”

  “There is a faster way to send news. Those watchers will make ready a large bonfire. When they see ships bringing soldiers—whether they land at Newhaven or sail upriver to Lewes—the watchers will light the bonfire and when they are sure it is burning beyond quick quenching, they will hide themselves. When they are sure what the invaders do, they can send a messenger to Exceat.”

  “Will they see that bonfire at Seaford and be warned?” Godric asked doubtfully.

  Alex did not sigh or show exasperation. “No, Seaford is too far, but I saw a very nice hill just about midway between here and Seaford. There I will order a second bonfire set. When the watcher there sees the light of this fire, he will set his own ablaze. And then so on from the east side of Seaford until one is near enough for us to see at Exceat. Thus we will have news of invasion along the Ouse River within a quarter or at the most a half candlemark.”

  “Ah!” Godric began to look more cheerful. “And then what will you do, m’lord?”

  Alex uttered an irritable snort. “It is possible I will need to do nothing. The raiders will see the bonfire and know it is a warning. Possibly they will simply turn and sail away.” He grimaced. “Although, I hope for spite that they make a quick raid on Newhaven.”

  Godric shook his head. “Why should they sail away? If their purpose is to raid Newhaven, they will do so, for they can regain their ships before we could possibly arrive and cross the river. And if their purpose is to sail to Lewes…” He shrugged. “How could we stop them?”

  Alex’s jaw thrust forward, square and stubborn. “We can try. Of course, it will depend on whether it is day or night when we get the news and how successful we have been in bringing in and training more men. If I have the men and it is night, we can ride the inland road that goes northwest toward Lewes and see if we can catch the ships on the river. If we can bring the small trebuchet, we could throw fire pots at the ships, the river not being so very wide there, or shoot fire arrows at them. We might beat them because the ships will have to sail very slowly in the dark.”

  “And if they come by day?”

  “I will still try to catch them somewhere along the banks of the Ouse and set them afire, but it is less likely because they will sail upriver more quickly. More important than that, I will be able to send out messengers with the news to Sir Andre at Petworth so that Sir Simon will be apprised of their coming. Also, we can set watchers on Lewes and if they do, as I expect, lair there, Sir Simon will know and not be taken by surprise.”

  “Ah!” Godric said with satisfaction. “Now that I know what you intend, I can think about which men would be best to assign to the bonfires—those who had kin in the hamlet if I can find any and those who have the worst and weakest horses or do not ride well.”

  “Good man!” Alex praised, swallowing his surprise.

  They mounted up to ride back to Exceat, Alex better understanding why Byford often stated his contentment with God
ric as second. The man could think as well as follow orders—which Alex had sometimes wondered about. Godric simply had no forward vision, no imagination at all. Told clearly the danger and a probable solution, Godric could choose the best men and probably explain what they must do.

  Alex arrived in Exceat barely in time to sit down to dinner, and in the end, still garbed in mail, took his meal with Desiree in Sir Frewyn’s chamber. He had found her in the hall, not yet seated at table, questioning Father Harold about whether he knew what had changed Alex’s plans to ride into Cuckhaven.

  Without an evil thought, with a bare stirring of a kind of warmth but mostly relief that he could pour out his anxiety to someone equally responsible, Alex explained what he had done and what he had discovered. The suppressed fear he had refused to acknowledge—the fear that had driven him out of Exceat before dawn because if he were there he might have met Desiree—eased. He was glad of her, yes, but her presence gave comfort; it did not waken shameful desire.

  “Can we tell Sir Frewyn?” he asked when he was done describing the situation, including the priest in his question. “Will this be too much for him, overset him?”

  He could see the indecision on Desiree’s face, and her fear for her husband was another comfort. The ugly thought that she might want Frewyn to be driven closer to death cleared from Alex’s mind. She bit her lip, and then slowly shook her head.

  “I do not like it, but I fear we must tell him,” she said slowly. “If he should hear later that we had kept this news from him, he might feel that everything Alex told him in the past was a lie, pap fed to a useless infant.”

  “But it isn’t true!” Alex exclaimed. “His suggestions are invaluable to me. God knows what kind of mistakes I would have made without his guidance. Truly, I feel I need Sir Frewyn’s advice, and I want to know if I have done all I should. I only fear any shock to him.”

  “But how can it be a shock?” Father Harold put in. “He has known since we received Sir Simon’s letter that an invasion is being planned. He does not think the French fools or incompetents. Surely he must guess that they would try the coast to see if they could find unguarded places?”

  Desiree and Alex exchanged glances and laughed.

  “He is very precious to me,” Desiree said.

  “I would not lose his counsel for the world.” Alex’s voice mingled with hers.

  Father Harold smiled at them both. “But it is no kindness to Sir Frewyn to try to wrap him in soft woolens and protect him from every draft and bump. Let him do what he can. God will take him in His own good time. Until then, to know himself useful is his last joy.”

  Desiree blinked back tears and sighed as she turned toward the door to Sir Frewyn’s quarters. “I will tell him that Alex has disturbing news and ask if we can eat in his chamber while Alex tells his tale. Frewyn already knows we wish to ride out after Nones.”

  So servants carried stools and a small table into Frewyn’s chamber and the “high table” was convened around Frewyn’s chair, it being decided that Father Harold’s opinion should not be ignored. The meal was a little less elaborate than usual, confined to pottage, slices of pork, beef, and mutton already carved and carried in on a platter instead of being sliced right off the roast, bowls of stew and a pie of minced meats.

  For greens, there was only cabbage, boiled with salt bacon. By mid-March every stream had been stripped bare of winter cress, every hardy leaf protected by walls and hedges from the worst of the weather had been harvested. And it was too soon for the first new growth. This was the worst time of year for everyone. Teeth loosened, sores appeared on roughened skin, hair thinned.

  Alex and Desiree paid little attention to what was placed before them. As soon as Alex had come into Frewyn’s line of sight, the old knight had said “How bad?” which permitted Alex to tell most of what he had learned before the food was actually brought in.

  “Hmm,” Frewyn murmured and then echoed Alex’s thought as he said, “Perhaps they have done us a favor.” He breathed a moment, and then went on, “With the dead and burned as a warning, our fisherfolk will warn us and fight.” After another pause, during which Alex finished his pie, he said, “We have had no trouble with raiders from the sea while I have lived at Exceat, and I did not know our fisherfolk were in the habit of taking French coin or wine to be blind.”

  “But if that is true,” Desiree said, “it was terribly stupid to burn out the village by the Ouse. Even if what you said about that isolated fisherman was true—that they killed the man and boy to ensure silence and the house was burned by accident or stupidity—why did they not send a few men ashore to bargain with the folk of the village?”

  “I have no idea,” Alex said. “It does seem peculiarly stupid, like blowing a trumpet in our ears to warn us.”

  Frewyn’s brow creased. “I have dealt with the French from time to time. They are no more clever than any…but no more stupid, either.”

  “Can it be that it was not Prince John’s men who burned Ousemouth village?” Desiree asked, lips drawn tight.

  “Then who?” Alex was bewildered.

  “Nicolaus?” Father Harold suggested, brows knitted.

  Frewyn nodded weakly. “Did you not tell us that you and Sir Simon suspected he was not arming against invasion?”

  Alex frowned. “But would he not realize that the killing and burning would be a warning to us? If the French could, why would he not try to buy the villagers’ silence?”

  “Not…Nicolaus…they have…”

  Father Harold leaned forward and laid a hand on Frewyn’s arm. To Alex he said, “The people of Ousemouth, in fact nearly all of those beholden to Exceat, would not make terms with Nicolaus. For one thing, they do not trust him. For cause. I have heard that the holders of the ruined farms were promised freehold if they ‘did not see him pass’. For another thing, they hate him. In Ousemouth, those from Lewes have come down the river and snatched pretty girls or sturdy lads. Nicolaus could not buy those of Ousemouth.”

  “And to destroy Ousemouth—” Frewyn’s voice was weaker but he spoke more easily “—also served well to fix our attention on attack from the sea.”

  “Ah,” Alex said. “I see. When the invasion comes, Nicolaus intends to take Exceat. It does not matter whether the invasion truly comes here. He hopes we will be watching for the French. He will attack us from behind, from land, and Prince John and the French will be blamed. Yes. We will bring in the fisherfolk today and tomorrow, together with what men we can get from other crafts.”

  Desiree was pale, but her voice was steady when she said, “Sunday must rightfully be given to prayer, but I hope Father Harold will speak to the village priests and ask them to warn their people of the killings near Seaford and in Ousemouth and urge the young men to come to learn to fight.”

  Frewyn’s face managed a lopsided smile. “Good for you, Desiree. You sound like the Lady of Exceat.”

  “Yes, indeed,” Father Harold said. “I will go down to Cuckhaven with you this afternoon, and tomorrow I will ride to Seaford and the smaller places. Where there is no priest, I will speak to the headman myself. When you go on Monday, they will know that the Church does not approve of John’s attempt to usurp his brother’s right and will bless those who fight in the defense of England.”

  “If we can bring in twenty or thirty men,” Alex said sounding pleased, “I will be able to set Byford and Godric to training them. Then I will take fifteen men with me and see if I can push along the work on the restoration of the outlying farms. I will make sure that a defensive wall is completed and that those working the farm are warned of the increased danger of an attack from Nicolaus. I will also see if any other damage has been done or threats made.”

  “You will leave Exceat?” Desiree’s voice was uneven.

  Alex’s heart leapt, seemed to miss a beat, and began to pound. All at once he knew exactly what Desiree was feeling—a crazy mixture of loss and relief. Until she had brought home to him the sense of what he had said, he
had not realized that riding away meant their parting. Now that it was clear he would be gone from the castle for some time, he almost could not bear the thought of being away from her, and at the same time he felt intense relief at being away from what roused desire…and guilt.

  He was aware in the same moment of a slight movement of Frewyn’s head. The old man’s eyes had been on Desiree when Alex began to speak and were still on Desiree now, but Alex could swear that they had fixed on him for an instant. And Frewyn’s expression… Surely it was the same as always. Surely Desiree’s question could not have betrayed to Frewyn what it had betrayed to him.

  “There is nothing to fear,” Alex said, putting the only innocent interpretation he could think of on her question. “At the greatest distance from Exceat, I will be only an hour’s ride away, and Byford is well able to recognize danger and to close the keep against it. Moreover, even though I will take with me some of the trained men-at-arms, there will be men enough to defend the keep. The green men will fight, since they cannot run away. Most of them will have some experience with the bow, and anyone, even the servants, is able to help push a scaling ladder away from a wall.”

  “There will be no attack on the walls…it is too early…in the season. The sea…is too…rough.”

  Frewyn paused to breathe between every few words, but his eyes were very bright. Alex would have believed he was laughing inside, if there was anything to laugh about.

  The next three days were a joyful agony. Desiree had never been so happy or so miserable in her life. She had feared she would fail at making the men willing to come into the keep for training, but Alex had made it all easy. Her frightening nightmare of being forced to use the men-at-arms to drag fisherfolk and lads from the crafts up to the keep never became reality.

  Father Harold’s preaching and the news of the killings and burnings spread by the men who had accompanied Alex made even the independent fisherfolk willing to listen. But mostly it was Alex’s silent presence, his mailed form mounted on the massive destrier, bright eyes gleaming on each side of the nose-guard of his steel helmet fixed on her audience. He made neither sound nor motion that could be taken as a threat but his being radiated power that called for obedience.