by Shel Pais
David returned the bow to the cave and decided to make his target. He took out the large piece of cloth he had brought previously. He had taken some dye and painted a circle in the center. Then he took the straw he had collected and, with a needle and some thread, sewed the cloth closed around the back, just enough to keep the straw from falling out. It was not a great target, but it would do for now. He placed it against a tree and retrieved the bow and three arrows. It was time to shoot his first arrow.
David stepped back about twenty paces and looked around before notching the arrow on the bowstring. He pulled back on it, aimed, and released. The arrow fell harmlessly about ten paces away. Undaunted, he retrieved it, returned to his original spot, notched the arrow again, pulled back and released. This time the arrow reached near the bottom of the target but did not hit it.
David continued to practice for about an hour. With each try, the arrows grew closer to the target. Meanwhile, his fingers were becoming quite sore and beginning to feel raw. One more shot, he said to himself. He carefully set, pulled back, aimed, and released. The arrow shot straight into the target’s center circle.
“Yes!” he said. “I did it.”
For a few moments, he admired that arrow. It was not perfectly in the center, but it was in the paint.
“One day I will be an archer,” he told himself. He gathered the bow, arrows, and the target, unstrung the bow, and hid everything in the cave. He again was careful to conceal the entrance and erase his tracks. He was encouraged by his first real attempt at shooting. He knew it would take a while, but eventually he would become very proficient. When he arrived at home, Mordecai was waiting for him.
“How was your walk?” he asked.
“Very nice, Father. I enjoy the solitude of the forest. It helps me to clear my mind and prepare for this week’s studies.”
Mordecai smiled. “I’m very glad to hear that. It looks like you listened to me after all. Perhaps I will accompany you next week.”
David shuddered at the idea. While he did not want to hurt his father’s feelings, he obviously could not practice with him there.
“That would be nice, Father. However, I don’t know if you could walk as far as I do. My walks are quite long, and I don’t sit and rest.”
“You’re right, my son. I cannot walk as far as you, especially when the pain in my foot returns. Perhaps we can just stroll around town.”
“Any time, Father. I would enjoy that.”
Mordecai sat thinking about the baron’s order. The apothecary still did not want to comply, but felt he had no choice. Soon the baron would send for him and expect the poison. He decided to keep it simple. Either an arsenic-based formula or belladonna will probably work best and be easy to prepare. He also had all of the ingredients. He thought about which one to use. In the end, he decided to prepare one of each. Then the baron could do with them whatever he wanted. Mordecai did not want to know the baron’s purpose, or, more specifically, who his intended victim or victims would be. It was hard enough for him to have to prepare them. However, he must obey Geoffrey.
The first one Mordecai prepared was in a small clay jar that contained concentrated belladonna roots, the most toxic part of the belladonna plant, along with a few leaves and a number of berries he made into a paste. He added some crushed blueberries that made the concoction look and smell like preserves. The second was a small vial of arsenic powder that could be added to either food or drink. Then he carefully secured and hid them to be sure his children would not find them. He would wait until Baron Geoffrey summoned him.
The servants to Baron Henry de Percy had packed his clothes and other items he considered necessary for his trip to Northampton. Baron Geoffrey had invited him to come for a visit and hunt. Henry loved to hunt, especially with his prized falcon, Saladin. The baron was quite proud of that name, one he had heard about from an earlier Crusade. He had grown a bit bored hunting around Yorkshire and was eager for a change of scenery.
“Bryce,” he called. “Come here.”
Bryce hurried into Henry’s chamber.
“Yes, my lord, I’m here.”
Henry looked at the boy. Bryce was fourteen, the son of Henry’s blacksmith. Henry liked him. He would grow into a fine man, Henry thought. I think he will make a good man-at-arms.
“How would you like to accompany me to Northampton?”
The baron’s question surprised him. He had never been far from York before, and only lately had gone with the baron on a hunt to help recover the game his falcon had killed.
“I would be honored, my lord.”
“Good. Go pack some of your things. We will leave at first light tomorrow with six men-at-arms. Tell your father you’ll be gone about a fortnight. I can’t imagine staying with Geoffrey much longer than that.”
“Thank you, my lord. I’ll be ready at first light.” Bryce bowed and dashed from the baron’s chamber. He could not believe what he had heard. He would be traveling with the baron to Northampton. He ran down the castle’s stairs and out the side door to his father’s forge. Quinn, Bryce’s father, was responsible for making weapons and armor.
“Father,” Bryce said, panting from running so fast. “I have great news.”
“Well, what is it?”
“The baron is traveling to Northampton and is taking me along.”
Quinn put down his hammer and hugged his son.
“That’s wonderful. How long will you be gone?”
“He said about a fortnight.”
“You’d better tell your mother. I don’t think she’ll be as happy as I am with this news.”
“Why not, Father? I’m not a little boy anymore.”
“You know she worries about everything. I’m sure she’ll worry about you until you return.”
Bryce nodded. “I know. I’ll tell her now.” He scampered off to their small house just outside the castle walls. He found his mother preparing supper.
“Mother! I have exciting news!”
Grace, his mother, looked up from cutting some vegetables.
“What is so exciting?”
Bryce hugged her and then burst out, “Baron Henry is going to Northampton and is taking me with him!”
His mother took a moment to absorb the news. She knew someday this might happen, with the baron’s fondness for her only son. “Is it safe to travel there?”
“Of course, Mother. The baron is a great warrior and is taking six men-at-arms with him. I can fight too, if needs be.”
Grace hugged her son. “You will be careful, right? Stay with the baron. Never wander off on your own, especially in the forest.”
“I’ll be careful. The baron needs me. I can’t leave his side.”
“Very well. Let me pack some clothes for you. I’m sure Baron Henry will take good care of you.”
While she was speaking, Quinn entered. “Well, I see the news is out. Grace, are you all right with it?”
He saw a few tears in his wife’s eyes. While Bryce was their only son, their daughter, Elsabeth, died almost five years ago when she was only three. They had tried to have more children but could not. Grace always feared something would happen to Bryce. “I guess so. He is growing up and can’t stay here forever. I’m sure he’ll be safe with the baron. He’s a good man.”
Bryce could hardly sleep that night and awoke just as dawn was breaking. He gathered up a small sack with his clothes, kissed his mother and father goodbye, and ran to the stables. The baron’s steward, Garth, was there with a small wagon pulled by only one horse.
“Well, I see you’re ready to go.”
“Are you going too?” Bryce asked.
“Of course,” Garth replied. “You’ll stay close to me and help me with the baron’s needs. We’ll ride with his personal items.”
Bryce looked in the wagon, but a blanket covered whatever was in there. Soon the six men-at-arms accompanying them arrived. Bryce was friends with one of them, Brom of Leicester. Brom was a large, brutish man, and he had take
n a liking to the wiry, blonde boy.
“Well, look who’s here. Now I’m not afraid of any outlaws ambushing us. Bryce will protect us,” Brom said to the other five men-at-arms as he laughed.
Bryce was not amused. “Give me a sword, and I’ll protect you.”
Brom and the others laughed harder.
Brom patted Bryce on the back. “Don’t get upset, my friend. I was only joking. I’m sure when you’re old enough you’ll make a fine man-at-arms. But we’ll have to fatten you up a bit first. You’re too skinny. I don’t think you could hardly hold my sword now.”
Bryce was tempted to respond belligerently, but understood he meant well. Perhaps, he thought, soon Brom will show me how to use a sword.
Baron Henry de Percy then appeared, wearing a black surcoat over his chainmail. He was not wearing a helmet and carried his long sword at his side. Bryce guessed the baron’s other weapons were hidden in the wagon.
The baron smiled when he saw Bryce. “So, is my little traveler ready?” Bryce did not like the reference to being little, but to the baron he could not express his displeasure.
“Yes, my lord. I believe we are all ready.”
“Let’s proceed then.”
The small entourage started to move. The guards on the battlements watched as they crossed the drawbridge and disappeared down the road.
The pace was slow and bumpy, but at least he did not have to walk. The baron, the only one riding a horse, often would gallop ahead until he was out of sight and then stop to rest. By the time they caught up to him, he liked to gallop off again.
By nightfall, they had reached an inn outside of Sheffield. The baron took the largest room for himself. Garth, Bryce, and the men-at-arms shared one room. After a meal of mutton, bread, and ale, they all retired. Brom took the bed, small as it was, and the rest of them slept on the straw-covered floor.
As tired as Bryce was, the loud snoring of Brom and three of the other men-at-arms kept him awake but did not bother Garth. Bryce finally was so sleepy the snoring did not matter, and he drifted off.
Their journey continued for three more days until they reached Northampton castle. When the guards announced strangers were approaching, Baron Geoffrey assumed it was Baron Henry and his party, so he sent Sir Walter to greet them. Walter recognized the baron’s coat of arms.
“Welcome, Baron,” Walter said as he bowed.
“Thank you, Walter. It’s been quite a while since I’ve seen you. How have you been?”
“Well enough, my lord. My wound from the outlaw ambush last year has healed. I’ll never let that happen again.”
Walter referred to an incident when he was returning to the castle through Salcey Forest and five outlaws jumped him and threw him off his horse. After fighting off two of them, he managed to draw his sword. He slashed one in the face, and with a thrust killed another right through his heart. Of the other three, one fled with fright while the other two continued to fight with him. Neither carried a sword, but one tried to stab Walter with a large dagger. The one without the dagger jumped on Walter’s back, allowing the other man to try to stab him. His chainmail absorbed most of the impact, but the outlaw had found an opening. The dagger pierced Walter’s skin on his left side. Enraged, Walter tossed the outlaw on his back over his head, and immediately disemboweled him. The outlaw with the dagger attempted to run, but Walter hurled his sword at him like a spear and killed him as the weapon went through to its hilt.
“I am sure you will not.”
“Come, my lord. Baron Geoffrey is eager to see you.”
Henry followed Walter into the castle, while his entourage was greeted by Baron Geoffrey’s steward, who showed them their quarters. The men-at-arms would stay with Geoffrey’s men-at arms, and Garth with the steward. Bryce would be with Cyrus, Geoffrey’s page.
Walter led Baron Henry to a small room off the castle’s main hall. Geoffrey was there waiting, and they embraced.
“Welcome, my friend. I’m glad to see you. How was your journey?”
“Thank you, Geoffrey. It is good to see you again. The journey was fine. No outlaws this time. I think perhaps I scared them away.” Both barons laughed.
“I doubt it. I’ve sent men into Salcey without much luck. They managed to catch two I hanged, but I don’t even know how many outlaws are living there now.”
“I saw their bodies hanging at the edge of the forest.”
“Good. I hope that scared the rest of them off. Let someone else take care of them. Come, sit and have some wine.”
Henry and Geoffrey sat at a small table. Henry looked around the room, which was barren except for a tapestry covering a portion of the wall. Although a bit musty, the room was comfortable.
“This is my thinking room,” Geoffrey said. “I prefer this to the great hall. It also gives me some privacy.”
“I see. No windows and only one door. It makes me nervous. No way to escape.”
Geoffrey laughed. “Escape from what, Henry? A servant? I don’t fear in my own castle. Tell me, how are things at York?”
“Quiet at the moment. The taxes have been collected and sent to the king, and the harvest should be very good this year. We are already beginning to prepare for winter.” Henry sipped his wine. “How about here?”
Geoffrey belched. “Quiet here as well. Nothing since de Montfort’s attacks two years ago. The castle could use some repairs, but I don’t want to borrow any more money from the Jews.”
“I know what you mean. I am too indebted to Aaron of York.”
“And I of Baruch here in Northampton.”
“Do you plan to do anything about it?” Henry asked.
“I’m not planning to kill him, if that is what you mean. It’s not my way, and the king forbids it.”
“After the massacre we had in 1190, York cannot have another such incident. It was difficult to lure Jews back to York after that.”
“I’ve maintained a good relationship with them. I find it beneficial when I need something. Our Prior Bartholomew has also established good relations with them. It helps to keep things quiet. The townspeople have left them alone, so there has not been much trouble lately. Of course, there are isolated incidents, and if they are serious, we punish the perpetrators. We did have an unfortunate incident, however, but not involving any Jews.”
Henry finished his goblet and Geoffrey refilled it. “What was that?”
“One of my foresters, my cousin Ronald actually, was found dead in the forest and his weapons were taken. There were no wounds on him, and only footprints, apparently of two older boys, were found. He was a fairly young man and had not been ill. We’re still trying to find out what happened to him.”
“Hmmm,” Henry said. “Most unusual. The devil’s work, perhaps?”
The men laughed. “I don’t believe in that any more than you do. I know people can die without any clue as to what happened. I just don’t understand about Ronald. At least I want to punish whoever took his weapons. It probably was an outlaw.”
“I hope you find the culprit.” Henry changed the subject. “So, Geoffrey, I was glad to get your invitation. Did you miss my pretty face?”
Geoffrey laughed. “No, that’s not why. Do you know Abbot Hubert and his cousin from York, Father Alwyn?”
“I don’t know Hubert, although I have heard of him. I do know Alwyn. He hears my confessions. Why do you ask?”
“Hubert had my brother Peter excommunicated under false pretenses. He accused him of heresy. Peter was very religious and was so upset he killed himself.”
“Do you know why Hubert did that if the charge was unwarranted?”
“I didn’t know for certain until recently when a pilgrim I gave shelter to told me. After the king made me baron, he gave Peter fifty acres and a small manor house as a reward for his services. We didn’t know they happened to be next to Hubert’s brother, Abbot Oswald’s property, near Kent. After Peter’s suicide, Oswald confiscated the property in the name of the Church. I petitioned the ki
ng to reverse it, but he didn’t want to antagonize him or the Church. He did make Oswald pay for the land, but it was a pittance of what it was worth. Hubert recently stopped here with Alwyn, asking for shelter on their way to London just to aggravate me. I reluctantly let them stay, using his visit as an opportunity to figure out a way to get revenge. They left the next morning but wouldn’t tell me the purpose of their journey. I haven’t heard of them since.”
“I have,” Henry said. “Alwyn returned to York to gather his belongings. He is near here, at Hedgestone Priory with Hubert. Bishop Basil ordered Hubert to clean up Hedgestone and change the previous prior’s attitudes towards the Jews, and Alwyn is to assist him.”
“What? He’s at Hedgestone? How long will he be here?”
“I don’t know. Alwyn told me Basil ordered Hubert to do what he had to do. He did say Hubert wants to accomplish this as soon as he can. He doesn’t want to stay here too long. He has huge ambitions to rise in the Church and remaining at Hedgestone more than is necessary would certainly hinder him.”
Geoffrey considered this as he stroked his beard. “I see. That is indeed interesting news. While I’m sure I eventually would have heard of it, it’s better to know of it now.”
“Are you planning to do something to Hubert to thwart him?”
“Henry, I will get my revenge. How, I do not know, and I certainly wouldn’t want you to be implicated. I’ll have to think about how to proceed.”
“Be careful, Geoffrey. I understand that while Hubert is disliked in Church circles, he does get results. That’s why Basil chose him to take over Hedgestone. You could jeopardize everything you’ve gained if you make a mistake.”
“Thank you for your advice, my friend. I would never do anything that could hurt me. Or be traced to me,” he said, laughing.
DAVID WORE A HEAVIER CLOAK as he headed to the cave where his weapons were hidden. Already the weather was turning colder. Many of the leaves had fallen, with some trees and shrubs completely bare. This bothered David, as it might make it easier for him to be discovered. He figured with the first snow he would not be able to continue practicing anyway. It would be too risky. He would leave tracks in the snow, and as much as he wanted to work on his skills, he would have to wait for spring.