Fixing Forcalquier

by Eamonn Murphy

  "Yes," said Mij. "The Citadel is up there; the Count's castle."

  Orph smiled: "Is he a good ruler, your Count?"

  Mij took the question seriously, considering for a few moments before he replied:

  "Good enough, I suppose. Harsh, but fair. He is old now, and his wife is dead, but his daughter is young and very pretty. Many nobles have come to court her, but none has succeeded yet."

  Orph laughed delightedly. "A beautiful Princess, a good Count and a dragon too! I like this place!"

  "There are a lot of beggars," Orcas remarked quietly.

  This was true. Around the square, many niches and doorways were occupied by ragged, hungry looking human beings. They generally squatted cross-legged with a bowl or cap close-by to receive donations. Most of these receptacles were empty. One or two of the mendicants were lame or blind or addled, obviously not fit for work; but a surprising number were sound in mind and body, if rather thin.

  This disturbed Orph. "A society which can't find work for its able-bodied men is not properly organised," he muttered. Then he noticed something odd. "They look half starved, and their clothes are ragged too, but they all have beautiful shoes." He looked more closely to confirm his theory. "Most of them anyway."

  "Odd," Orcas remarked. "One would expect a poor man to buy bread with his income, not shoes."

  Mij dismounted suddenly and stood in the street looking around sadly. "Most of them are cobblers," He explained. "Or cobblers apprentices as I am, and there's no honest work for us to do."

  "Is there no work at all for cobblers in Forcalquier?" asked Orph. He looked at the feet of the people nearby. "The populace appears to be of the usual shoe wearing habits."

  Mij hesitated before replying. "It's a long story."

  "Then let it wait," Orcas put in. "We must find an Inn to stay the night, a place to stable the horses and a jar of something to wash the dust from our throats.

  Mij spoke quickly, eagerly. "My Uncle has a room to spare, and there is an excellent stable just a few yards down the street. You can stay with us if you like." The two men looked at each other. "It will be cheaper than an Inn," Mij went on, "and more peaceful too. You won't be kept awake by noisy revellers."

  "I am a noisy reveller," Orph protested. "But I do like somewhere quiet to go afterwards" - he looked at the boy seriously for a moment -” and I fancy you have more need of our coins than any of the local Innkeepers."

  Mij flushed and looked at the ground. "That is true, sirs," he muttered. Orcas reached down to touch him reassuringly on the shoulder.

  "Lead on to your Uncle's then, lad, for a peaceful night at low cost."

  Mij grinned, then turned and began to push his way through the crowd. He headed up the hill towards the Citadel for a few yards then turned right, down one of the streets which skirted the hill. Again it was narrow, with two-storey wooden houses closely packed on either side. The ground floor of the house usually doubled as a shop and workroom for whatever tradesman owned it. In mediaeval times each group of craftsmen clustered together in one section of town. Since bakers occupied this particular street, the delicious smell of freshly cooked bread washed over them as they walked. Mij turned a corner and the smell faded. They had come to a large pair of double doors set in a great arch. He rapped on the wood and there was a faint cry of acknowledgement from within. Orph and Orcas dismounted and the trio stood waiting in the quiet street. There was no sound except a faint creaking from the wooden sign over their heads as it swung ever so slightly in the breeze. "Garnier's Stables" it proclaimed in bright red paint on a faded white background. Somewhere down the road, a door slammed and voices were raised in domestic quarrelling - a man and a woman. They heard a slap, a whimper, and the argument ceased. Eventually, the double doors opened and an energetic looking old man peered out.

  "Two travellers, Mister Garnier, who need a place to rest their horses." Mij indicated his companions with a half bow and an outstretched arm, like a host introducing a cabaret act. The flamboyant gesture was a sign of his improved youthful spirits.

  "Ah! Excellent!" Garnier quickly loosened bolts on the second of the doors and swung them both wide to receive the horses. "Come in, gentlemen. Welcome. We are quite busy at the moment, it being market day and all, but there's certainly room for two more."

  They entered the stable. It was a large building, wide as two normal houses in that street, and two storeys high as well but with only one level; that is, there was no second floor. At the height where it should have been, there was a large balcony or mezzanine protruding into the room. It was used as a store for hay, straw, ropes, harness and all the other paraphernalia of horse care. The air was filled with the powerful scents associated with those beasts: pollen and dung. There were a good variety of breeds present and most of the stalls were occupied, but two at the back, next to each other, were vacant. Orph and Orcas led their mounts forward while Mij stood patiently by the proprietor.

  Mister Garnier shuffled from foot to foot, now and then running a hand through his unruly shock of white hair or stroking his white moustache. There was glee on his narrow, pointy face and his eyes shone with avaricious joy. "Excellent." he kept muttering. "Excellent." He rubbed his hands together constantly as if he were polishing them, making them more fit to receive money. Monday was the only day when the trade was good in this quiet back street and every customer was as welcome as the one sheep that biblically strayed.

  The horses were soon in their stables. Orcas took a small cloth bag from his saddle and untied his blanket roll. After hanging the saddle over the partition he patted the horse- "Goodnight, old boy."- and with the bedding over one shoulder walked casually to the door. Orph, having similarly untied his bedroll and bid Banan a fond farewell, followed his friend.

  Garnier moved toward them. "Will you, I mean they, be staying long?"

  "I don't know," said Orcas. "Possibly. Probably. What's the charge anyway?" He withdrew a small purse from his bag.

  Garnier rubbed his hands together so fiercely that Mij feared they might

  burst into flame.

  "Two denarii per horse per night," he said, speaking slowly and emphatically as if he feared a misunderstanding. "That's cheap!" he added quickly. "It's really nothing. Nothing! Other places charge much more." He smiled in what he hoped was an ingratiating manner.

  Orcas rummaged in his purse for denarii. Charlemagne had introduced the denarius, the silver penny, centuries before, as the coin most easily negotiable for small transactions in local markets. Two hundred and forty of them weighed, and were worth, one pound of silver. There was an intermediate coin, the solidus, or shilling, worth twelve denarii. Orcas extracted four coins and handed them to Mister Garnier.

  "Excellent." The stable keeper quickly thrust the money into his pocket, as if it were somehow embarrassing to leave it exposed to its previous owner. "Excellent. And where will you be staying, gentlemen?"

  Mij said, "They're staying at..."

  "At an Inn somewhere on the main square," Orcas interrupted. He smiled. "We don't know which one until we look them over but" - here he looked hard at the old man - "it makes no difference to you in any case, does it?"

  "No, no, no." Garnier shuffled his feet nervously under Orcas' steely gaze. "It makes no difference to me at all."

  Orcas nodded, put a hand on Mij's shoulder. "Let's go, lad."

  Orph leading they walked out into the street, blinking at the sunlight after the semi-gloom within. Garnier, with a nervous farewell wave, closed the heavy doors after them. Mij looked inquiringly at Orcas: "To my Uncle's?"

  "Yes Mij, to your Uncle's. Lead on."

  Mij did so and the small party moved up the street. The boy was happily anticipating how glad his Uncle would be at their good fortune and walked eagerly. Orcas seemed lost in reverie and Orph was gazing curiously about, at the buildings and at people clustered here and there chatting. He whistled a merry tune as he saunt
ered along and seemed not to have a care in the world.

  Mij said: "Why didn't you want Mister Garnier to know where you're staying?"

  "No particular reason," Orcas replied. "It's just a good general principle not to let a stranger know more of your business than he has to. There's no telling how he might use the knowledge."

  The boy frowned. "Is your presence here a secret? Do you have enemies here?"

  "Not yet," Orph interjected and grinned. He seemed to be joking but Mij wasn't certain, so he dropped the subject. In any case, they had arrived at his house. He withdrew a key from his tunic, knocked three times for politeness' sake and opened the door, shouting as he did so to alert his legal guardian.

  "Visitors Uncle!"

  CHAPTER TWO

  The door opened to reveal a small workshop. There were benches against every wall, all covered in shoes. In the centre of the room there was a larger bench upon which a variety of tools were neatly arrayed, so neatly that it was obvious no work was being done, and next to the bench, on a stool, sat the cobbler, looking as gloomy as an overcast night.

  He was a broad-shouldered, barrel-chested man with very long arms and very short legs. His hair was cut so short that his small protruding ears seemed to stick out even more than they actually did. His mouth curved downwards in a grimace so severe it was almost comical. His elbow rested on the table and his head rested on his fist. He looked like a grumpy gorilla.

  Mij stepped forward to make the introductions: "This is my Uncle Wade," he began. "Uncle, this is Orph and this is Orcas. They will be staying here tonight, with your permission, in the spare room." His Uncle cocked an eyebrow at that information and looked somewhat alarmed. "As paying guests, Uncle," Mij added hastily.

  "Oh, right. Good." Wade's voice was deep, with a strong local accent. "In that case, welcome." He frowned suddenly, realising how that sounded. "I mean, welcome anyway, but..." He hesitated, looked a little flustered. "Well, we don't have enough food for ourselves these days, never mind guests."

  Orcas had advanced into the room and now he extended his right hand to their host and smiled. "I understand perfectly," he said as they shook hands. Then he took out his purse and extracted from it four silver shillings. "Here. This will put some food on the table for all of us, and pay for our nights’ lodgings too."

  Wade took the money and regarded it with obvious pleasure: "For many nights’ lodgings," he said jubilantly. Then he shook hands with Orcas' partner.

  "Don't crush the bones," pleaded Orph as the local man gripped. "I'll need this thing again."

  The cobbler smiled. Mij said: "Uncle Wade is strong." Orcas was amused at the genuine pride in his voice.

  In response, his guardian held up one shilling. "Can I trust you with this to go for food and wine? You won't lose it, or let some cheating merchant trick you out of the change?"

  Mij blushed with indignation and embarrassment at this question in front of strangers, for he was at that age when boys blush most easily. He tried to reply but after a few incoherent syllables, his Uncle cut him short.

  "No." He held up a hand to forestall further protest and Mij shut up, instantly. He had felt that hand, now and then, as an instrument of discipline. "Probably you would be fine but the way things are at the moment we can't afford to take the risk. I'll go."

  Orph said, "You can stay here Mij and tell us a bit about your city. I'm sure it has an interesting history." He was helping the boy save face at an awkward moment. Orcas promptly agreed.

  "I'm curious to know how it retains its independence," he said. "There are powerful Kingdoms to the north, south and west of Forcalquier - I'm surprised it hasn't been conquered."

  Wade slapped Mij on the back. "Aye! Explain that lad while I go out and get the victuals." He was almost bursting with joy at the prospect of good food. "Take these fellows upstairs though, to the living room. And don't fret. You know that under normal circumstances I would trust you with any amount of money."

  Mij, much mollified, managed a grin. "Thanks, Uncle."

  Wade left without further ado. Mij led his guests upstairs to the primitive but reasonably comfortable room in which he and his Uncle lived, cooked and ate. There was a large fireplace in the back wall, with a spit for roasting and pots hung on nails above it. A solid table occupied the centre of the room with four chairs surrounding it, like a besieging force.

  Orph sat down. Orcas took a chair next to him. After a moment's hesitation Mij joined them. Orph removed his iron helmet, put it on the floor and said, "We're all comfortable, Mij. You may begin."

  Cities do not just grow up anywhere, like weeds. There is always a reason why that grand metropolis on the map came to be in that certain spot. Rome occupied fertile land on the river Tiber; Paris started on an easily defendable island of the river Seine; New York is a great natural harbour, as are London and Belfast. Sometimes a town grows because the area is rich in natural resources, like oil or coal. Some cities are obvious stopping points on great trade routes and some are natural fortresses.

  In the case of Forcalquier, it was a combination of these last two circumstances. The Romans, under Emperor Domitian, built a great road from Italy to Spain which, obviously, traversed the south of France, or Gaul, as it was then known. The Via Domitia, The Domitian Way, was the major trade route from the western empire to the capital, and vice-versa. The Durance River was an important trade route within Gaul itself, goods from the north coming down its waters to the south. Reasonably close to the point where these routes met was the easily defendable pinnacle of rock on which the Citadel now stood; and so, in the shadow of that fortress a market town soon took root, and prospered. Wealth attracts more people and so a town grows to become a city, and sometimes it continues to grow and grow and grow to become a gigantic urban nightmare, but that didn't happen in the thirteenth century. Indeed the human population was tiny relative to Orph's era. England, for example, contained a mere two million people at that time.

  War is inevitable. Most wars are fought over wealth. Not money necessarily, though that is the medium of exchange, but fertile land, water, minerals, or a good spot for trade. In those centuries of turmoil that followed the collapse of the Roman Empire - the period known as the Dark Ages- Forcalquier knew many masters, as did every town in Europe. All sorts of outlaws, vagabonds and soldiers of fortune set themselves up as rulers in those turbulent days, but eventually, things settled down and one family managed to keep power.

  As a fortress, the Citadel had one flaw: no water. There was a spring at the base of the hill but that was not available if the place was under siege. Then, around the beginning of the twelfth century, it was discovered that water from this source soaked up the knoll itself, through capillary action: not to the top, but near enough. A well, sunk from the Citadel down into the rock, provided an endless supply of water. Since the usual method of siege in those days was simply to surround a fortress, cut off supplies and wait for the occupants to die of thirst or surrender (they generally chose the latter option) this inside source made the Citadel virtually impregnable. Purely defensive, it’s true, but such a safe retreat is an enormous military asset.

  A Royal family more cunning than the average had made treaties with the two great powers of the area: these were Aquitaine, with its capital in Barcelona, and the Kingdom of Provence, which was ruled from Toulouse. If Aquitaine dominated for a decade Forcalquier was its loyal ally. If Provence suddenly grew powerful, Forcalquier swiftly changed sides. This cynical but pragmatic policy kept the little country independent. Nominally, of course, all these states were under the Holy Roman Empire, but in fact, they were pretty much left to their own devices.

  "A cute little County holding two mighty Kingdoms at bay," remarked Orph when Mij had, in his own words, explained the general situation to the strangers. "How sweet."

  "Three mighty Kingdoms," Orcas said, "if you count the Franks to the north."

  Orph acknowledg
ed this remark with a small bow then turned again to the boy. "Is your Count the undisputed ruler?"

  Mij hesitated, wondering how best to answer. "Yes," he said. "For now. But there are a couple of Barons greedy for power that would snatch the throne if he were weak. Their Fiefdoms are outside the city and usually, they live there, on their own land, but they come here several times a year. As a matter of fact, they will all be assembled for a Council next Saturday. In five days," he added helpfully.

  "It sounds like the usual Feudal set up," Orph said quietly to Orcas. "The Church doesn't seem to be much of a factor in politics here, so that's one complication we don't have."

  Mij noticed the reference to the Church and volunteered more information:

  "There is an important Abbey at Lurs, a very pretty village on a hilltop north of Forcalquier. The Abbot goes to Council meetings but I don't think the Count likes him much. He doesn't trust him, apparently."

  "Interesting," said Orph. He stood up and began to pace restlessly about the room. Orcas, still relaxed, watched him with an inscrutable expression. Mij looked at the empty fire grate and imagined huge joints of pork or lamb revolving there on a spit, dripping fat, ready to eat.

  Orph stopped pacing right in front of Orcas and said: "What do we do next?"

  "Eat."

  "It isn't even noon yet. What do we do after we eat? There's a whole day

  ahead of us and..."

  "There's a parade!" Mij interrupted, jumping to his feet.

  "Eh?" Both men turned to face him.

  "I just remembered, there's a parade this afternoon to celebrate our independence. Everyone stops work at midday and the Count comes down to the main square to make a speech." He frowned. "I'd completely forgotten."

  "Hunger," said Orph gravely, "tends to drive other things from your mind. I know."

  Mij nodded agreement. "That's probably it. Anyway, we can eat a bit then go and watch the Count. Uncle will prepare a huge meal for tonight but around here we don't eat much at midday.