Then the gate opened and a neweomer stepped into the yard. What in God's name is happening here?“ the man asked, and Thomas could have sung a Te Deum in praise of Saint Sebastian if his mouth had not been crammed with mud, for his rescuer was Father Hobbe, who must have heard the frantic shouting and come run-ning down the alley to investigate. What are you doing?” the priest demanded of Sir Simon.
It is not your business, father,“ Sir Simon said. Thomas, is it you?” He turned back to the knight. By God, it is my business!“ Father Hobbe had a temper and he lost it now. Who the devil do you think you are?”
Be careful, priest," Sir Simon snarled.
Be careful! Me? I will have your soul in hell if you don't leave." The small priest snatched up the smith's huge poker and wielded it like a sword. I'll have all your souls in hell! Leave! All of you!
Out of here! Out! In the name of God, get out! Get out!" Sir Simon backed down. It was one thing to torture an archer, but quite another to get into a fight with a priest whose voice was loud enough to attract still more attention. Sir Simon snarled that Father Hobbe was an interfering bastard, but he retreated all the same.
Father Hobbe knelt beside Thomas and hooked some of the mud from his mouth, along with tendrils of thick blood and a broken tooth. You poor lad,“ Father Hobbe said, then helped Thomas stand. I'll take you home, Tom, take you home and clean you up.”
Thomas had to vomit first, but then, holding his breeches up, he staggered back to Jeanette's house, supported all the way by the priest. A dozen archers greeted him, wanting to know what had happened, but Father Hobbe brushed them aside. Where's the kitchen?" he demanded.
She won't let us in there," Thomas said, his voice indistinct because of his swollen mouth and bleeding gums.
Where is it?“ Father Hobbe insisted. One of the archers nodded at the door and the priest just pushed it open and half carried Thomas inside. He sat him on a chair and pulled the rush lights to the table's edge so he could see Thomas's face. Dear God,” he said, what have they done to you?" He patted Thomas's hand, then went to find water.
Jeanette came into the kitchen, full of fury. You are not supposed to be here! You will get out!“ Then she saw Thomas's face and her voice trailed away. If someone had told her that she would see a badly beaten English archer she would have been cheered, but to her surprise she felt a pang of sympathy. What happened?” Sir Simon Jekyll did this,“ Thomas managed to say. Sir Simon?”
He's an evil man.“ Father Hobbe had heard the name and came from the scullery with a big bowl of water. He's an evil thing, evil.” He spoke in English. You have some cloths?“ he asked Jeanette. She doesn't speak English,” Thomas said. Blood was trickling down his face.
Sir Simon attacked you?“ Jeanette asked. Why?” Because I told him to boil his arse," Thomas said, and was rewarded with a smile.
Good," Jeanette said. She did not invite Thomas to stay in the kitchen, but nor did she order him to leave. Instead she stood and watched as the priest washed his face, then took off Thomas's shirt to bind up the cracked rib.
Tell her she could help me,“ Father Hobbe said. She's too proud to help,” Thomas said.
It's a sinful sad world,“ Father Hobbe declared, then knelt down. Hold still, Tom,” he said, for this will hurt like the very devil.“ He took hold of the broken nose and there was the sound of cartilage scraping before Thomas shouted in pain. Father Hobbe put a cold wet cloth over his nose. Hold that there, Tom, and the pain will go. Well, it won't really, but you'll get used to it.” He sat on an empty salt barrel, shaking his head. Sweet Jesus, Tom, what are we going to do with you?"
You've done it,“ Thomas said, and I'm grateful. A day or two and I'll be leaping about like a spring lamb.”
You've been doing that for too long, Tom,“ Father Hobbe said earnestly. Jeanette, not understanding a word, just watched the two men. God gave you a good head,” the priest went on, but you waste your wits, Tom, you do waste them."
You want me to be a priest?"
Father Hobbe smiled. I doubt you'd be much credit to the Church, Tom. You'd like as not end up as an archbishop because you're clever and devious enough, but I think you'd be happier as a soldier. But you have debts to God, Tom. Remember that promise you made to your father! You made it in a church, and it would be good for your soul to keep that promise, Tom.
Thomas laughed, and immediately wished he had not, for the pain whipped through his ribs. He swore, apologized to Jeanette, then looked back to the priest. And how in the name of God, father, am I supposed to keep that promise? I don't even know what bastard stole the lance.
What bastard?“ Jeanette asked, for she had picked up that one word. Sir Simon?”
He is a bastard,“ Thomas said, but he's not the only one,” and he told her about the lance, about the day his village had been murdered, about his father dying, and about the man who carried a banner showing three yellow hawks on a blue field. He told the story slowly, through bloody lips, and when he had finished Jeanette shrugged.
So you want to kill this man, yes?"
One day."
He deserves to be killed," Jeanette said.
Thomas stared at her through half-closed eyes, astonished by those words. You know him?"
He is called Sir Guillaume d'Evecque,“ Jeanette said. What's she saying?” Father Hobbe asked.
I know him,“ Jeanette said grimly. In Caen, where he comes from, he is sometimes called the lord of the sea and of the land.” Because he fights on both?" Thomas guessed.
He is a knight,“ Jeanette said, but he is also a sea-raider. A pirate. My father owned sixteen ships and Guillaume d'Evecque stole three of them.”
He fought against you?“ Thomas sounded surprised. Jeanette shrugged. He thinks any ship that is not French is an enemy. We are Bretons.”
Thomas looked at Father Hobbe. There you are, father,“ he said lightly, to keep my promise all I must do is fight the knight of the sea and of the land.”
Father Hobbe had not followed the French, but he shook his head sadly. How you keep the promise, Thomas, is your business. But God knows you made it, and I know you are doing nothing about it.“ He fingered the wooden cross he wore on a leather lace about his neck. And what shall I do about Sir Simon?” Nothing," Thomas said.
I must tell Totesham, at least!“ the priest insisted. Nothing, father.” Thomas was just as insistent. Promise me.“ Father Hobbe looked suspiciously at Thomas. You're not thinking of taking your own revenge, are you?”
Thomas crossed himself and hissed because of the pain in his rib. Doesn't our Mother Church tell us to turn the other cheek?" he asked.
It does,“ Father Hobbe said dubiously, but it wouldn't condone what Sir Simon did tonight.”
We shall turn away his wrath with a soft answer," Thomas said, and Father Hobbe, impressed by this display of genuine Christianity, nodded his acceptance of Thomas's decision.
Jeanette had been following the conversation as best she could and had at least gathered the gist of their words. Are you discussing what to do to Sir Simon?" she asked Thomas.
I'm going to murder the bastard,“ Thomas said in French. She offered him a sour grimace. That is a very clever idea, Eng-lishman. So you will be a murderer and they will hang you. Then, thanks be to God, there will be two dead Englishmen.” What's she saying, Thomas?“ Father Hobbe asked. She's agreeing that I ought to forgive my enemies, father.” Good woman, good woman," Father Hobbe said.
Do you really want to kill him?“ Jeanette demanded coldly. Thomas shuddered with the pain, but he was not so hurt that he could not appreciate Jeanette's closeness. She was a hard woman, he reckoned, but still as lovely as the spring and, like the rest of Will Skeat's men, he had harboured impossible dreams of knowing her better. Her question gave him that chance. I'll kill him,” he assured her, and in killing him, my lady, I'll fetch you your hus-band's armour and sword.“ Jeanette frowned at him. You can do that?”
If you help me.
She gr
imaced. How?"
So Thomas told her and, to his astonishment, she did not dismiss the idea in horror, but instead nodded a grudging acceptance. It might really work,“ she said after a while, it really might work.” Which meant that Sir Simon had united his enemies and Thomas had found himself an ally.
Jeanette's life was encompassed by enemies. She had her son, but everyone else she loved was dead, and those who were left she hated. There were the English, of course, occupying her town, but there was also Belas, the lawyer, and the shipmasters who had cheated her, and the tenants who used the presence of the English to default on their rent, and the town's merchants who dunned her for money she did not have. She was a countess, yet her rank counted for nothing. At night, brooding on her plight, she would dream of meeting a great champion, a duke perhaps, who would come to La Roche-Derrien and punish her enemies one by one. She saw them whimpering with terror, pleading for mercy and receiving none. But in each dawn there was no duke and her enemies did not cringe, and Jeanette's troubles were unrelieved until Thomas promised to help her kill the one enemy she hated above the rest.
To which end, early in the morning after her conversation with Thomas, Jeanette went to Richard Totesham's headquarters. She went early because she hoped Sir Simon Jekyll would still be in bed, and though it was essential he knew the purpose of her visit, she did not want to meet him. Let him learn from others what she planned.
The headquarters, like her own house, fronted the River Jaudy, and the waterfront yard, despite the early hour, already held a score of petitioners seeking favours from the English. Jeanette was told to wait with the other petitioners. I am the Countess of Armorica," she told the clerk.
You must wait like the rest," the clerk answered in poor French, then cut another notch in a tally stick on which he was counting arrow sheaves that were being unloaded from a lighter that had come upriver from the deepwater harbour at Treguler. A second lighter held barrels of red herrings, and the stench of the fish made Jeanette shudder. English food! They did not even gut the herrings before smoking them and the red fish came from the barrels covered in yellow-green mould, yet the archers ate them with relish. She tried to escape the reeking fish by crossing the yard to where a dozen local men trimmed great lengths of timber propped on saw-horses. One of the carpenters was a man who had sometimes worked for Jeanette's father, though he was usually too drunk to hold a job for more than a few days. He was barefoot, ragged, hump-backed and hare-lipped, though when he was sober he was as good a labourer as any in the town.
Jacques!“ Jeanette called. What are you doing?” She spoke in Breton.
Jacques tugged his forelock and bobbed down. You're looking well, my lady.“ Only a few folk could understand his speech for his split lip mangled the sounds. Your father always said you were his angel.”
I asked what you are doing."
Ladders, my lady, ladders." Jacques cuffed a stream of mucus from his nose. There was a weeping ulcer on his neck and the stink of it was as bad as the red herrings. They want six ever so long ladders.
Why?"
Jacques looked left and right to make sure no one could overhear him. What he says,“ he jerked his head at the Englishman who was supposedly supervising the work, what he says is that they're taking them to Lannion. And they're long enough for that big wall, ain't they?”
Lannion?"
He likes his ale, he does,“ Jacques said, explaining the English-man's indiscretion. Hey! Handsome!” the supervisor shouted at Jacques. Get to work!“ Jacques, with a grin to Jeanette, picked up his tools. Make the rungs loose!” Jeanette advised Jacques in Breton, then turned because her name had been called from the house. Sir Simon Jekyll, looking heavy-eyed and sleepy, was standing in the doorway and Jeanette's heart sank at the sight of him.
My lady,“ Sir Simon offered Jeanette a bow, you should not be waiting with common folk.”
Tell that to the clerk," Jeanette said coldly.
The clerk tallying the arrow sheaves squealed when Sir Simon caught him by the ear. This clerk?“ he asked. He told me to wait out here.”
Sir Simon cuffed the man across the face. She's a lady, you bastard! You treat her like a lady.“ He kicked the man away, then pulled the door fully open. Come, my lady,” he invited her. Jeanette went to the door and was relieved to see four more clerks busy at tables inside the house. The army,“ Sir Simon said as she brushed past him, has almost as many clerks as archers. Clerks, farriers, masons, cooks, herdsmen, butchers, anything else on two legs that can take the King's coin.” He smiled at her, then brushed a hand down his threadbare wool robe that was trimmed with fur. If I had known you were gracing us with a visit, my lady, I would have dressed."
Sir Simon, Jeanette noted gladly, was in a puppy mood this morn-ing. He was always either boorish or clumsily polite and she hated him in either mood, but at least he was easier to deal with when he tried to impress her with his manners. I came,“ she told him, to request a pass from Monsieur Totesham.” The clerks watched her surreptitiously, their quills scratching and spluttering on the scraped parchment.
I can give you a pass,“ Sir Simon said gallantly, though I trust you are not leaving La Roche-Derrien permanently?” I just wish to visit Louannec, Jeanette said.
And where, dear lady, is Louannec?"
It is on the coast,“ Jeanette said, north of Lannion.” Lannion, eh?“ He perched on a table's edge, his bare leg swinging. Can't have you wandering near Lannion. Not this week. Next, maybe, but only if you can persuade me that you have good reason to travel.” He smoothed his fair moustache. And I can be very persuadable."
I wish to pray at the shrine there,“ Jeanette said. I would not keep you from your prayers,” Sir Simon said. He was thinking that he should have invited her through into the parlour, but in truth he had small appetite for love's games this morning. He had consoled himself for his failure to boil Thomas of Hookton's backside by drinking deep into the darkness, and his belly felt liquid, his throat was dry and his head was banging like a kettledrum. Which saint will have the pleasure of hearing your voice?" he asked.
The shrine is dedicated to Yves who protects the sick. My son has a fever."
Poor boy,“ Sir Simon said in mock sympathy, then peremptorily ordered a clerk to write the pass for her ladyship. You will not travel alone, madame?” he asked.
I shall take servants."
You would be better with soldiers. There are bandits everywhere."
I do not fear my own countrymen, Sir Simon.
Then you should,“ he said tartly. How many servants?” Two.
Sir Simon told the clerk to note two companions on the pass, then looked back to Jeanette. You really would be much safer with soldiers as escort."
God will preserve me," Jeanette said.
Sir Simon watched as the ink on the pass was sanded dry and a blob of hot wax was dropped onto the parchment. He pressed a seal into the wax, then held the document to Jeanette. Maybe I should come with you, madame?"
I would rather not travel at all," Jeanette said, refusing to take the pass.
Then I shall relinquish my duties to God," Sir Simon said. Jeanette took the pass, forced herself to thank him, then fled. She half expected that Sir Simon would follow her, but he let her go unmolested. She felt dirty, but also triumphant because the trap was baited now. Well and truly baited.
She did not go straight home, but went instead to the house of the lawyer, Belas, who was still eating a breakfast of blood sausage and bread. The aroma of the sausage put an edge to Jeanette's hunger, but she refused his offer of a plate. She was a countess and he was a mere lawyer and she would not demean herself by eating with him.
Belas straightened his robe, apologized that the parlour was cold, and asked whether she had at last decided to sell the house. It is the sensible thing to do, madame. Your debts mount.“ I shall let you know my decision,” she said, but I have come on other business.
Belas opened the parlour shutters. Business costs money, m
adame, and your debts, forgive me, are mounting.“ It is Duke Charles's business,” Jeanette said. Do you still write to his men of business?"
From time to time," Belas said guardedly.
How do you reach them?" Jeanette demanded.
Belas was suspicious of the question, but finally saw no harm in giving an answer. The messages go by boat to Paimpol," he said, then overland to Guingamp.
How long does it take?"
Two days? Three? It depends if the English are riding the country between Paimpol and Guingamp."
Then write to the Duke,“ Jeanette said, and tell him from me that the English will attack Lannion at the end of this week. They are making ladders to scale the wall.” She had decided to send the message through Belas, for her own couriers were two fishermen who only came to sell their wares in La Roche-Derrien on a Thurs-day, and any message sent through them must arrive too late. Belas's couriers, on the other hand, could reach Guingamp in good time to thwart the English plans.
Belas dabbed egg from his thin beard. You are sure, madame?“ Of course I'm sure!” She told him about Jacques and the ladders and about the indiscreet English supervisor, and how Sir Simon had forced her to wait a week before venturing near Lannion on her expedition to the shrine at Louannec.
The Duke,“ Belas said as he ushered Jeanette to the house door, will be grateful.”
Belas sent the message that day, though he did not say it came from the Countess, but instead claimed all the credit for himself. He gave the letter to a shipmaster who sailed that same afternoon, and next morning a horseman rode south from Paimpol. There were no hellequin in the wasted country between the port and the Duke's capital so the message arrived safely. And in Guingamp, which was Duke Charles's headquarters, the farriers checked the war horses" shoes, the crossbowmen greased their weapons, squires scrubbed mail till it shone and a thousand swords were sharpened.
The English raid on Lannion had been betrayed.
Jeanette's unlikely alliance with Thomas had soothed the hostility in her house. Skeat's men now used the river as their lavatory instead of the courtyard, and Jeanette allowed them into the kitchen, which proved useful, for they brought their rations with them and so her household ate better than it had since the town had fallen, though she still could not bring herself to try the smoked herrings with their bright red, mould-covered skins. Best of all was the treatment given to two importunate merchants who arrived demanding payment from Jeanette and were so badly manhandled by a score of archers that both men left hatless, limping, unpaid and bloody.
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