Hawkwood's Sword

by Frank Payton

  “Great God in Heaven!” I exclaimed. “Giles! We must lose no time. Go and fetch Jack here to me, and tell Hal Peasgood, the healer, to attend me also.” He rose to his feet and made to leave. “Wait! Send for John Brise as well. Huw! Huw! Come here!”

  “I’m here, Sir John. What shall I do?” He stood uncertainly, shifting from one foot to the other.

  “Ride to the Almain camp and say to Master Sterz that I shall be coming to see him directly. With all haste, now!”

  When they had gone I slumped down in my chair and buried my head in my hands. My Proserpina, lost to me! My love! My hope for the future taken away! After all we had just gone through, to lose her! Niccolo’s voice broke into my thoughts.

  “Signore Gianni! Signore! This was found half-buried in the mud, at the place where the fight took place.”

  I looked up. He was holding out his hand. Dangling from his fingers was the golden chain bearing the signet ring with the lion’s head carved upon it, the token of my love which I had given to Proserpina! I took it from him, pressed it to my lips and placed the chain about my neck under my tunic.

  “Thank you, Niccolo. Now I have this token returned to me in this manner, I shall not rest until it reposes once more in my lady’s bosom. Is there anything else you can tell me of this affair, however small? You say one of the men was struck down by my lady’s horse? Was he killed?” I rose to my feet, waving him to remain seated, and walked along the length of the table, sliding my left hand along it, but not seeing the smooth brown wood of which it was made. I heard Niccolo’s voice as if from afar. My thoughts were still on a sunny hillside above Genoa on that golden afternoon, which seemed very long ago.

  “They must have thought so, Signore. They left him there where he fell. But he was not dead, and I left him unconscious in a locked room at the estate house, under strong guard.”

  “So. If you have him safe, we can make him tell us who is responsible for this outrage. Is there more?”

  “Signore, it is known that Orlando Scacci was approached by a group of men in a tavern in Genoa. I am told they bore swords but were not wearing armour at the time. Orlando left the tavern with these men, and they rode away together. He did not return to the Palazzo Lucanti until very late, and that was the evening before the Lady Proserpina was taken.”

  Whilst I was trying to make sense of this Marco entered in a state of excitement. I didn’t know what Huw had said to him, but he seemed to have some idea of what was happening.

  “Sir John, good morning. What has happened in Genoa? I see Niccolo is here, and I guess he must the bearer of bad news. If it is of concern to you, then the Lady Proserpina must be involved for him to be riding here at this time of the year. Am I right?”

  “You guess only too well, Marco, I am afraid. Know that my Lady has been taken by some persons at present unknown, and the Count her brother is sorely wounded. Only one of the band has been captured, and he is wounded also. The Lady Proserpina laid him low with her horse’s hooves.”

  He smiled. “That seems very much like the Lady Proserpina as we remember her, Sir John. These unknown men may find they have trapped a wild cat who scratches, and is not easily daunted by them.”

  “Thank you, Marco. I am sure you are right, and that reassures me when I most need reassurance. But we need also to take horse and ride swiftly to Genoa, or at least to the Count’s estate, and there take up the chase.”

  Now Jack Onsloe ducked into the pavilion. He was followed closely by Hal Peasgood, still attired in his shabby brown robe, and flustered at being dragged from his usual surroundings in the healers’ quarters, where he and Simon Cheshunt, and others of their calling, muttered to themselves over bubbling pots of stinking herbs, or pounded the dried leaves with pestle and mortar. Overawed by the rich interior of my pavilion he sat timorously on a chair like a small brown mouse. Huw set a cup of wine before him at which he stared, as if to drink it might poison him. Jack sat down with something approaching relief and gratefully accepted another cup of spiced wine from Huw. He took a huge gulp, swallowed it, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and looked darkly around the table.

  “What’s to do, Sir John? Why the gathering? What’s he doing here, so far from home?” He nodded towards Niccolo.

  “My Lady Proserpina has been taken, Jack, and I need your help, and that of some of your men, to bring her home.”

  “Do we know who has taken her?” he asked.

  “Not yet, but one of the miscreants was wounded and is under strong guard at the Count’s estate. Also, Orlando Scacci might be involved.”

  Jack smiled in his crooked way. “I’ll talk to the prisoner, Sir John. He’ll tell me what we want to know. I’ll be off and get some of my best men together, about twenty should be enough. They’ve been asking for action; now they’ll get it.” He finished his wine and stood up, nodded to me and left of the pavilion.

  I returned my attention to Marco, who sat disconsolately gazing into his wine cup. His obvious concern was touching.

  “Marco, before we leave I want you to resume your traveller’s guise and seek out our friend in Milan. Tell him what has befallen my Lady Proserpina, and say I pray him to give me a letter to his agent in Genoa, which will allow of his aid in my search for the poor girl. Then follow me to Genoa with all speed.”

  He finished his wine and rose to his feet. “I will do this with all haste, Signore, but it is possible that our friend will by now have returned to Florence. If he has, I shall have to ride there. Whatever happens, I shall meet you at the estate, or at the Palazzo Lucanti in the city. I...” He paused uncertainly.

  “Well, what is it boy?” I asked.

  “If I am to go to Milan, and possibly to Florence after that, I will not be able to take my weapons and armour, nor my best horse. As a mere traveller, it will not look well for me to have such a good mount, but I shall need La Fiamma when I arrive in Genoa.”

  “Do not worry about the mare, Marco. We will take her and your war gear along with us. I will see that Huw takes good care of her.”

  “Thank you, Sir John. I will be away as soon as I can be ready.”

  He took his leave then, and as he slipped out of the pavilion, I felt a pang of anxiety about him. Such a mission was not easy, as he would be in enemy territory once across the Ticino. I could only offer up a silent prayer for his safety. I knew he was resourceful, but this might prove too difficult a test of his abilities. As for his horse, which he had acquired after one our skirmishes, I knew he was very fond of the red chestnut mare, and they had taken to each other as if he had always been her master. I realised also that I would miss his dignified but always cheerful presence at my side, but I knew there was no one else to send in his place. At last I turned my attention to Hal Peasgood.

  “Now, Hal, I want you to ride with us to Genoa. There are wounded men there, two in fact—one who must live; he is the Count Savignone. The second man must be kept alive long enough to tell me where the Lady Proserpina has been taken by his fellows, who wish to thwart my plans in Italy. I will pay you well for your aid, Hal, so I need your craft. Bring your best herbs and simples with you, whatever you need. And this must go no further. Do you understand, not even Simon can be told?”

  “I understand you, Sir John, and to the best of my poor craft I will gladly help you as I may.”

  I thanked him, and he scuttled away to begin his preparations to leave with the rest of us. As for me, I sent Huw to fetch Boy, and with a heavy heart made ready to pay my visit to Albrecht.

  As I waited, John Brise arrived, thrusting his heavy way into the pavilion. He slumped down in a nearby chair and came straight to the point.

  “I hear from Jack that your Lady has been captured, and that you are off to Genoa to rescue her. Is that the way of it?”

  “Yes, I fear so, and I will have to ask you to look after our affairs here whilst I am away. I know I can trust you, John. Keep close to Albrecht. He is not himself lately, since the plague struck him. He is n
ot fully recovered, and he is having problems with Werner and Conrad, so keep an eye on them too.”

  John had helped himself to a cup of spiced wine and was sipping it reflectively. “You know you can trust me, Jack. Just get the maid back to where she should be. So far as Albrecht’s two problems are concerned, I’ve thought for a long time now that he would be well rid of them. I’ll do it if you like. Quietly, and without any pother.” He took a another sip of wine, and his eyes met mine. He raised an eyebrow.

  “I’ll give it some thought, John. But now I have to go and see Albrecht and acquaint him with what has happened. I’ll see you when I return. I can hear Huw bringing Boy for me.”

  I left him sitting at the table, and went outside.

  *****

  As I rode to the Almain camp I turned to thoughts of the possible identities of Proserpina’s abductors. The first name, of course, was that of Orlando Scacci. I had never quite lost my fears about the man since I had seen him leave the Lucanti estate late that night, before we finally arrived at Genoa. My waking dream at the dawn of day had seemed then only to have been a nightmare. I had been anxious that I might lose the lady I had just met, who appeared to be the wife I had sought, almost without knowing it, or so I had told myself. But now? Had the dream been a true warning?

  I drew nearer to Albrecht’s pavilion, when a sudden vision of a face swam into my mind’s eye from the day when we were in Boccanera’s hall. An enraged noble or merchant had been ordered by the Doge to leave on account of his outburst against us.

  I didn’t remember hearing his name spoken, but his appearance and the look he gave me as he left remained with me. I had seldom witnessed such venom in a glance. Could he be the man behind the abduction? I wondered. Mayhap Ludovico would remember his name.

  Albrecht met me at the entrance to his pavilion. With him were von Felsingen and Conrad Harzmann, who themselves appeared to have just arrived. This would not do, I thought. I had too many suspicions of the pair to require their presence at a meeting such as I had in mind. I thought back to what John Brise had been saying.

  Albrecht was not attired even in half armour and was wrapped in a thick cloak which he did not remove when we all moved into the warm interior of the pavilion. As ever, I was taken by the lavish furnishings of the place. It was, perhaps, for Albrecht a reminder of the grand castle in the Rhineland of which he spoke from time to time with such with such faraway longing in his eyes. This had become even more evident since his near brush with death by the plague.

  We all seated ourselves at the table, and I seethed inwardly as Werner and Conrad settled themselves down for what they anticipated would be a long discussion. Wolf appeared and poured wine for us all. Healths were proposed and drunk. I fidgeted as the talk pursued well-worn paths, none of which could be followed in the winter months. Time slipped by, and my contributions became less and less. Eventually I fell silent, but raged in my mind. Mercifully, and fortuitously, I was saved by the reappearance of Wolf. He went to Albrecht and whispered a few words in his ear.

  Albrecht frowned, then nodded and turned to Werner. His voice was harsh.

  “You must get back to your commands. A brawl has broken out amongst your men. Settle the matter and give them something useful to do. Send out patrols towards Milan, but they should not seek action, only take note of what is passing, and make our presence known.”

  Werner made a gesture of impatience. “Cannot Steiner do this? We have much to discuss.”

  “No!” shouted Albrecht. “Get about your duties. These matters are for your attention. The men grow lax enough without encouragement from you. Be off, both of you!”

  I sipped my wine thoughtfully through this and their departure. It seemed that Werner was reluctant to go outside again, and sought an excuse to stay where he was and drink wine in comfort. I looked at Albrecht and raised my eyebrows. He met my eyes and spread his hands upwards as if in despair.

  “I tire of them, Jack. They are becoming worse than useless. I have to hound them daily. It is most unsatisfactory. As you know, we can do little at this time of year, but they chafe and grumble constantly.”

  I put out my hand and touched his shoulder, which felt painfully thin. “Do not worry, old friend; your other commanders are loyal, as are the majority of your men. Those two can do little to harm you. We discussed this once before, and it might not be such a bad thing if they did desert to Landau. I am sure they will have pondered on this. They need employment.” I withdrew my hand.

  “You are right, it might be a good thing if they did leave us. It would cleanse the air. But enough of that; it is my problem, not yours. What has brought you here today? Your Welshman seemed in some agitation when he came to announce your intention to come here. Is aught amiss?”

  “I fear so. The Lady Proserpina has been abducted—by whom, I know not. I ride to Genoa without delay. Jack Onsloe and Giles will accompany me, each with some of their men. John Brise will command whilst I am away. You know him well, and he you, so there should be no problems. I have advised him of your position with regard to Werner and Conrad. He will help if called upon.”

  “That is kind, Jack, but only in an extreme case would I call on him in this matter. Now you must make all haste to Genoa to rescue your lady. From what you have told me of her, she seems to be a spirited young woman who will not be easily cowed by her captors. You go with my blessing, Jack, and may Good Fortune attend you.”

  He stood up, and we clasped hands and embraced, and so I left him. He seated himself again, and on leaving his pavilion I glanced back—to see him a sad, lone figure.

  Wolf brought Boy to me, and as I swung up into the saddle, I knew I had to get Marco away from our camp before Werner’s patrols set out towards Milan.

  *****

  I made all haste back to camp, and was told by the gate guards that a traveller had left shortly before my arrival. Roger Capsey, to whom I had spoken earlier, came up as I turned away. He moved to Boy’s side away from the other guards, and looked up at me.

  “That traveller was your squire, I reckon, Sir John. The others don’t know, but I knew by the way he sat his horse. It weren’t his usual horse neither, and was right sorry-looking nag. I don’t know what Tom Blount thought of letting him go out on that animal.”

  I leaned down and affected to adjust the stirrup and its leather.

  “Thank you, Roger. I’ll ride after him. Which way?”

  “He went straight ahead out of the gate, to the east, more or less.”

  “And now I shall be on my way. When I’ve left here and you can get to him, tell Master Brise where I have gone, but no one else.” I gathered up the reins, and urged Boy forward, and out of the gate.

  I cantered away in a leisurely fashion, but at a turn in the track which took me into the trees, I kicked Boy into a gallop. Marco had clearly done something of the sort, because I had gone only about two miles before I espied a solitary horseman away in front of me.

  Little by little I overhauled the horseman, who had by then slowed to an amble. As I drew nearer the rider took a quick look behind him, and straightway pulled up his mount. It was indeed Marco. He faced me, clearly alarmed by my sudden appearance.

  “Sir John! What do you here? Why have you ridden after me? I had not thought to see you again this side of Genoa. Have you changed your mind on this matter?”

  I would not have known him from from his sorry attire. Usually neat and carefully dressed, he was in patched dark green hose, a brown padded tunic, with a soiled white shirt beneath, and a long, torn, hooded cloak overall. On his feet were much-worn tall leather boots. His hair was awry, and his face had been mired in the mud of the road.

  “No. I have ridden after you to warn that von Felsingen and his familiar, Harzmann, have been sent out on patrols by Master Sterz, order to keep them occupied, and they are none too happy at the task. This could cause you trouble if they catch up with you and you are recognised.”

  He frowned at this news. “Then I mus
t make all speed to put a good distance between us, Sir John. This horse does not look much, but in truth is quite strong. I will not delay any further, and will bid you farewell.”

  I reached across and placed my hand on his shoulder. “Take great care, my lad; you are fast becoming as a son to me. Keep well out of the reach of von Felsingen and his kind."

  Marco’s eyes gleamed strangely. “I will not fail you, nor your Lady, Sir John. I shall see you at Genoa.”

  He shook his horse’s reins and set off at a canter, increasing to a gallop. I watched him for a little while, then turned Boy’s head back along the way I had come.

  *****

  We took but four days to cover the country between Romagnano and Ludovico’s estate near Genoa. Niccolo, Jack Onsloe, Giles Ashurst, Huw and Alain Mawe accompanied me, with forty archers and thirty men-at-arms. The men had been handpicked for their known skills and daring. They were willing volunteers, and I had promised extra pay and rewards. All had sworn their fealty to the mission. Hal Peasgood made up the party, bumping along uncomfortably on his horse, which was festooned with bundles and packages of herbs and whatever else was bound up with his craft as a healer.

  We had ridden swiftly, spurring the horses to greater efforts than was fair to the beasts, but I wished to lose no time in getting to Genoa. Country people and other travellers were pushed aside by our thundering progress, and many were the curses hurled in our wake. The weather was cold and unkind, with ice-cold rain lashing our tired bodies, soaking us to the skin, turning our mounts into gleaming metal in the pale-sunned daylight. It was with great relief that at last I saw the white walls and red roofs of Ludovico’s estate house. I slid to the ground and stretched to ease my aching body and legs, stiff from the day’s ride. It seemed to me that I had eaten and slept in the saddle.

  Gaetano, Ludovico’s steward, greeted us with deep bows and flowery words, and I was shown into the house with Niccolo, Jack, and Giles. As my page, Huw would also sleep in the house, whilst the men moved on to a suitable area where they could pitch their own camp.