by Peter Kenson
Once the crossing had started, the rest of the herd followed, pushing and shoving between the lines of horsemen and encouraged to move by the dozens of yelling children. Perhaps a little surprisingly, the cattle followed behind without any difficulty and generated their own momentum to reach the far side. As soon as they were safely across, David pulled the riders out of the water and signalled the first wagons to cross.
“How far is it to the top of the rise?” he asked Ash.
“About half a league, milord.”
“Get the first wagons to stop at the top. Nobody starts the descent tonight and certainly not in these conditions. That means we’ll have to start pulling wagons off to either side of the track to park overnight. Half a league isn’t long enough to let us park them nose to tail and I want every wagon across this stream tonight.”
Ash started to issue orders to his men as sounds of a commotion came from farther down the column. Amid shouts of direction, two exhausted riders appeared from out of the rain and headed towards them. The horses were blowing hard and the men looked as though they were having trouble staying in the saddle. Several of the men ran forward to take the horses heads and steady the riders as they dismounted. The men pulled themselves to attention and saluted as David approached.
“We spotted Duke Henry’s horsemen mid-afternoon yesterday, milord,” they reported. “Coming down the track from Stadenbridge and pushing hard.”
“How many of them were there?”
“There were thirty in the troop, milord but when they reached the spot where we rescued the boys, they stopped for about ten minutes and then sent two riders back up the track. Presumably they were going to report to the main body following on.”
“The rest of the troop are still coming, I take it.”
“Yes, milord. We set out at the same time as they did. At that time they were no more than an hour behind us. We kept ahead of them until they stopped for the night and then we kept going. We’ve ridden all through the night and all day today to get here.”
“So your best guess is that they are maybe eight or nine hours behind us at this point.”
One of the scouts made a grimace. “They may have closed up a bit today, milord. The horses are very tired and we haven’t been able to push on as fast as we would have liked.”
“Okay, very well done, both of you. Get yourselves across the stream and take a breather until the rest of the company catches up with us.
“Ash, I’m putting you in charge of the crossing here. You heard the report. That makes it doubly important that we get every wagon across this stream tonight and preferably more than a bow shot up the track. Light flares on either side of the ford and keep going as far into the night as you have to. The bed of the ford seemed quite firm but the water level will start to rise soon. Have some spare teams of horses waiting on the far bank in case any of the wagons get into trouble. We can’t afford to lose any time.
“Jaks,” he yelled and looked down in surprise as a small voice at his feet replied, “Yes, milord.”
“Jaks you’ve shrunk. It must have been the rain,” he smiled at the small boy looking up at him. “Where’d he go, Izzy?”
“Jaks went to find the other officers, milord. He thought you’d want to speak to them once the scouts had reported. I’m sorry if that was wrong.”
“Okay, first things first, Izzy. Never, ever apologise for what somebody else has done. Even if it was wrong, it’s for them to apologise not you. Do you understand?”
“Yes, milord.”
“In this case Jaks is trying to anticipate my wishes and he’s made a good decision. The lad’s starting to use some initiative. So that leaves me with you. You know the old shepherd who forecast that we were going to have rain?”
“Old Isaac. Everybody knows old Isaac.”
“Good, well go and find him and ask him for his best guess as to how long this rain will last.”
“Yes, milord.”
The rest of the afternoon and early evening passed uneventfully. Flares were lit to mark the path as soon as the light started to fade. The stream was very placid to begin with but once it started to rise, it came up very quickly and was more than four hands deep by the time the last wagon crossed. Some of the smaller wagons, especially those with only one horse, did struggle against the flow and had to be hauled to safety.
The camp was very subdued that evening. Even though the wagons were bunched up together, nobody felt much like socialising and most of the families ate a cold meal for their supper. They turned one of the big council wagons sideways on to the wind and stretched out an awning on the lee side for the council to meet. David brought the officers in with him and briefed the council on the report from the scouts.
“We know they stopped last night but we don’t know for how long. I’m guessing they’re going to stop again tonight and make a fresh start in the morning. Old Isaac says the rain will be gone by dawn so, if they make an early start, they could be in sight by midday.
“We are going to make a stand at the river and prevent them from crossing. I’m going to plant stakes in the bank on this side and we’ll try to place some caltrops underwater in the bed of the stream if the flow isn’t too great. So spread the word around the villagers. I don’t want anyone backtracking down the trail to find something that may have dropped off a wagon, for example.
“Also, I’m going to need every fighting man with me tomorrow. If they cannot cross at the ford, they will try to cross somewhere else so I will need every fighter to cover the length of that stream. That means you’re going to be on your own in terms of manpower to get the wagons safely down the slope. Once they’re down at the road, park them up and use the people to help get the next wagon down.
“I’ve got scouts further up the road towards Paelis, to warn us of anyone coming from that direction and we know the main Stadenbridge force will not be here for several days yet. So we’ve made all the preparations we can for tonight. Tomorrow we have to fight.”
Chapter 13
The little caravan crested the rise and stopped to gaze at the vista spreading out before them. Josep had said that the port of Puerto Reis was the most important on this whole stretch of coast but that had not prepared the youngsters for a sight such as this. The city sat at the base of a large bay, almost completely encircled by two headlands leaving only a narrow passage to the sea. The headlands obviously sheltered the anchorage from the worst of any passing storms and were the reason why the port had developed to such an extent.
The bay was full of ships of every conceivable size and shape, some anchored, some heading out to sea and more arriving to take their place. The quayside and warehouses stretched along the shore of the bay from the walls on this side of the city, right across to the walls on the far side. From the quayside, wharves stretched out into the bay like fingers and here the smaller vessels were mostly tied up. Larger ships were anchored out in the bay with swarms of lighters and barges buzzing around them like flies, unloading the new arrivals and loading and replenishing those preparing to depart. To the watchers on the hillside, the constant stream of small boats heading to and from the quayside seemed in permanent danger of colliding with one another and spilling both crew and cargo into the bay but that disaster never quite happened.
There were multi-coloured flags and pennants flying from every masthead but most were too far away to make out the detail. The shape of some of the ships was distinctive however and Josep, who had been here many times before, pointed out sleek galleys from the spice islands, fat bellied carvels with their lateen rig from Westron and Keldis and even one sturdy looking carrack from the far southern seas. Probably a fur trader, Josep said. Zak had seen the harbour before as a boy travelling with his parents but Seb and Rachel had never seen a spectacle such as this, with so many ships in one place.
The city itself spread back and outwards from the bay so that, although the wharves were several leagues distant, the nearest gate
on their road was no more than a league away. A small river ambled slowly through the centre of the city and circled the small hill on which the Counts of Annaba had constructed their fortress. The ramparts towered above the surrounding buildings and provided clear lines of fire against attacks from either the sea or the land. The only other building which was recognisable at a distance, was the Temple of the Holy Cross which stood on the only other piece of elevated land within the city walls.
From their viewpoint above the city, the rooftops blurred together under a light smoky haze with the only gaps being the major thoroughfares leading from the gates to the wharves and to the central square outside the fortress. All of the other streets and lanes were so narrow that the upper stories were almost touching each other and the roofs appeared to merge into one continuous area.
They set off down the slope towards the gate. There was a small caravanserai outside the walls for travelling merchants but Josep led them past that and up to the gate itself. This time the guards inspected the contents of their wagons carefully and Josep had to negotiate the toll for all of them. He did not have to haggle too hard as food was always an essential commodity inside the city and the sergeant was quite amenable to agreeing an acceptable fee with a small jar of mead on the side for himself.
Once inside the walls, the travellers were assaulted by the noise and smells of the bustling city. The road they were on led directly to the quayside and was crowded with people and carts hurrying about in every direction. The road was one of the few within the city walls that was wide enough for two wagons to pass and a steady stream of wagons and drays was moving in both directions pulled by a variety of horses, mules and even oxen. Occasionally a smaller cart would dart out from one of the many side turnings and weave its way through the traffic before disappearing again on the opposite side of the main thoroughfare.
The road was lined with shops and each one seemed to have a barker outside, calling to the passers-by to come in and inspect their wares. There was no specialisation of shops along this road and bakers stood alongside leather shops, carpenters, butchers and a score of other trades. The smells that wafted out from the bakers and pie shops were appetising but mingled with less pleasant odours from the leather and metal working shops and the stink of human refuse from the side alleys that they passed.
For all that the people appeared to be rushing everywhere, the pace of the traffic along the road was very slow and it took nearly an hour to reach the quayside. Here the level of activity increased if anything with porters and handcarts constantly moving between the warehouses and the ships and barges tied up at the wharves. Fortunately the quay was quite a bit wider than the road had been and Josep was able to pick a path through the throng. As they passed the various warehouses, the merchants or their apprentices standing outside, offered to inspect the contents of their wagons but Josep politely refused all such offers. Finally they stopped at one of the larger warehouses which stood on the corner of the quay and the road leading to the central square and Josep spoke to the young man standing outside.
“Is Master Angelo here today?”
“No sir. He is at his house. Might I be of some service to you?”
“If you could direct me to his house. He and I are old friends and I would prefer to talk with him before conducting any business here.”
“Of course, sir.” He clapped his hands and two small boys appeared at his side as if by magic. “Tomas here will guide you to the house and if you will permit me your name, I will send Stefan on ahead to warn Master Angelo that you are coming.”
“Thank you. Just tell him it’s Josep & Agnes Benyahim coming to see him.”
The road to the main square was less crowded and although Josep kept the horses to a slow walk, they made better time because they did not have to stop so frequently. The main square outside the fortress also doubled as the market square but it was not a market day and so there were only a few stalls set out. The shops that ringed the square, however, were clearly of a much higher class than the ones they had passed previously. Some of the side streets leading off the square were obviously maintained to a high standard of repair and swept clean every day for the benefit of the wealthier citizens.
Tomas led the way down one of these streets where half a dozen goldsmiths shops competed for attention, a selection of their wares on display outside, glittering in the afternoon sun and watched over carefully by an apprentice. At the end of the street, the road branched in several directions, each still maintained to the same standard but bordered now, not by shops but by large mansions protected by high walls.
Tomas pointed down one of the roads and ran ahead of them a hundred paces or so, to where a large pair of gates was set in the boundary wall. He knocked on the gates which opened immediately so that by the time Josep and the others arrived, they were able to drive straight in to a large courtyard. The courtyard was more or less circular in shape with an ornamental fountain in the centre and ample room for all three wagons to park around it.
They climbed down from the wagons as a large, somewhat portly man hurried down the steps from the house followed closely by two very elegant ladies. The man was expensively dressed in a blue silk doublet and white calfskin breeches with a royal blue velvet surcoat and more gold on his hands and round his neck than had been on display in the whole of the goldsmiths street. The two ladies were equally well dressed with the elder in a high necked dress of dove grey silk, finely embroidered with pink and white flowers and with her hair tucked back in a coif of gold lace. The younger woman was wearing a simple dress of gold silk that emphasised the curves of her body and perfectly matched the colour of her long shoulder length hair.
The man rushed up to Josep and wrapped him up in a bear hug. Finally he released him and stood back to hold him at arm’s length. “Josep, old friend, it has been too long.”
“It certainly has. You’re getting fat, Angelo.”
“And you’re going grey,” Angelo retorted.
“One of the many problems of old age, my friend.”
Angelo released his hold on Josep and turned to Agnes, kissing her on both cheeks before wrapping her in a gentler hug. “At least you’re not going grey, Agnes. You look as young and as beautiful as ever.”
“And you’re still a silver tongued flatterer,” Agnes replied with a smile. “Now let go of me and allow me to greet your beautiful wife and daughter.”
As the women embraced on the steps, Josep introduced the rest of the party. “Zak you probably remember. Of course, he’s grown a bit since then and a married man these last ten months now. And this is Beth, our new daughter-in-law.”
Angelo shook hands with Zak and kissed Beth on both cheeks. “Congratulations to the pair of you. May you have a long, happy and prosperous life together.”
“And these are the latest additions to our family; Rachel and Seb.”
As Angelo looked across at Agnes in surprise, Josep caught the look and laughed. “No, they’re not actually blood, old friend but they are family nonetheless.”
“Oh well then.” He kissed Rachel who coloured slightly even though she was half expecting it, and shook Seb vigorously by the hand. “Any friends of Josep and Agnes are always welcome in my house, but family… family are doubly welcome. Come, let me introduce you to Maria and Teresa.”
Maria welcomed them to the house as warmly as Angelo had done and said that rooms were being prepared for all of them. Teresa greeted them all politely but then immediately drew Beth and Rachel away into the garden to interrogate them about the latest fashions and things they had seen on their travels.
Agnes and Maria excused themselves and disappeared in to the house as Angelo led the others onto the terrace and called for some wine.
“So old friend, let us leave the women to see to the house and let us set the world to rights. Tell me your news.”
Before Josep could embark on a conversation that could potentially last several days, Zak and Seb off
ered to go and see to the horses.
“No, no,” Angelo replied. “The grooms are already stabling the horses and the wagons will be alright where they are overnight. Unless, of course, you have goods in there that should be secured for the night?”
“That’s alright,” Josep assured him. “It’s mostly foodstuffs in there for sale tomorrow. But there are a few personal things that we will need to retrieve before the evening.”
“Of course. If your young companions wish to deal with such matters, then we can have a couple of hours of conversation before the evening meal.”
***
The preparations for the evening meal started early, at least for the young ladies. Beth confessed to having nothing more fancy than the dress she was married in ten months before and Rachel had nothing but a spare set of travelling clothes. So Teresa took them both up to her room to rummage through the wardrobe. Beth was not a problem because she and Teresa were a very similar height and build and they soon came across a daringly cut dress of the deepest ruby red, decorated with clusters of tiny pearls and which set off her auburn hair to perfection.
Rachel was more difficult. Not having yet achieved her full height, most of the dresses in Teresa’s wardrobe were too long and trailed across the floor. Finally, at the back of the wardrobe, they found an emerald green dress with lacy bodice and sleeves which Teresa had last worn two or three years earlier. It was only slightly too long and the girls attempted to remedy that problem by finding Rachel a pair of shoes with a raised heel. Teresa explained that they had been all the rage at court a couple of seasons ago and she had bought them from a merchant who assured her he had come directly from the High Court itself. The trouble was Rachel had never worn anything like that before and teetered precariously around the bedroom to the huge amusement of the other two.