Knight Assassin

by James Boschert

  Talon felt a jolt in his groin as she did so; it was clear that she was excited and wanted him to go further, but just then the young Count called back to them to stop playing in the dark and catch up. Elena sighed with exasperation.

  “Roger has his instructions, Talon. I shall wish you a goodnight from here and God speed to your bed. I shall go to mine but I fear that after all the adventures you have told us, I will not sleep very much this night!” she whispered and gave him a peck on the cheek.

  Roger was going to see that Talon went home this night and Elena was to behave. This drew much teasing and laughter from the others in the group, who were also behaving toward one another very amorously.

  Talon fell into bed that night with much to remember and the feeling that it would be nice to stay a while longer in Carcassonne.

  Indeed, it seemed that Philip was in no hurry to leave either, as over breakfast he told Talon that he had an audience with the Count that morning and Talon was to attend.

  “There will be jousting this afternoon, Talon, which the Count wishes us to attend with him.”

  Talon realized that he needed to do something about his wardrobe. He excused himself and with Anwl in tow hurried off to the town center to look for some new clothes. While he was at it he decided to buy some for Anwl, whose clothes were positively ragged.

  Talon returned to the Templar stronghold feeling very pleased with himself. He had on new bright green hose, a new linen undershirt, a well-stitched tunic that came down to the middle of his thighs and a well-made doublet with a snug fit. He had a new cloak that was embroidered around all its borders and hung off his shoulders with a fine silk rope entwined with silver thread. He was not at all sure that the hose that now clung to his legs was what he really wanted, including the long pointed slippers he now wore, but the tailor had insisted that it was all the style. Looking about at other young men of the same age and class Talon was hard put to disagree.

  Anwl was very pleased with his new clothes and spent a lot of time looking at himself in anything that would reflect his image, from bright copper pots to puddles of water. “My Prince in Cwmry will think I am a nobleman when I come back in all this finery, M’ilord,” he stated firmly.

  “We need to buy some of the same for Gareth and the others, Anwl. or they will be mightily envious of you.”

  Talon knew that he was still not dressed in the height of fashion. Also having insisted that he be provided with a trough and hot water he divested himself of the new clothes and to Anwl’s horror and the Inn maid servant’s frank amusement as she brought the pails of hot water he proceeded to take a bath. Now at least he would feel cleaner.

  He was luxuriating in the trough of tepid water when his uncle banged on the door, demanding to know what was taking him so long to get ready. Talon clambered out, dried himself with one of the coarse linen sheets, and donned his new clothes. Max accompanied them this time as they walked hurriedly to the Count’s palace. They were again admitted easily because of the Templar uniforms.

  They were taken to a different place this time, up some stairs to a chamber which seemed to serve as the Count’s office as it was full of parchments in buckets and in racks on the walls. There were several clerks writing in a corner, but the room was dominated by the Count himself, who sat at ease in an oak settle by the window. He had been talking to the Englishman and both turned and watched Philip and Talon come in. Max stayed outside.

  Both Philip and Talon bowed low and stood waiting for the Count to speak.

  “Ah, Sir Philip de Gilles, and our newest knight, Sir Talon de Gilles, welcome! I wish to introduce you to my honored guest, Sir Guy, Count of Northumberland, emissary to His Royal Highness, Henry, King of England, and Prince Richard, his son.”

  Philip and Talon both bowed respectfully toward Sir Guy, who nodded pleasantly and walked over to them. He held out his hand in a gesture of friendliness. Talon was impressed with the strength in the man’s grip.

  “I have heard last night from Sir Philip here that you are just back from the Holy Land, and would hear more of it from your own lips. I understand from the Countess, who told us this morning about you, Sir Talon, that you were even a prisoner of the Saracen and lived to tell the tale.”

  “Talon has indeed come back from the far eastern countries, from Persia, where he was taken as a captive. But later they let him free and he found his way back to us in Palestine.” Philip confirmed.

  “Tell us more of the Kingdom of Jerusalem, Sir Philip,” the Count demanded. “I did not get the opportunity to talk to you very much yesterday as we were involved in other matters.”

  “I can tell you more of that than I can of the countries beyond, Sire; Talon can feed your curiosity regarding that.”

  “Well, what of the Kingdom? Is it going to survive?”

  They were seated in carved fruitwood chairs, provided with wine, and the conversation centered on the Holy Land. Sir Guy listened attentively, only occasionally asking discerning questions.

  The Count was obviously intrigued at the number of questions and finally asked, “Sir Guy, you are clearly keen to know all there is about the Holy Land. Is my Lord King Henry contemplating a crusade to those parts?”

  “My Lord you might well ask why I am so eager to hear of the Holy Land; but it is not for my Liege Henry, but for his son, Prince Richard. Although young, he is very curious about the Outré Mere and demands to hear all that I can tell him on the subject. I have to bring him information on the disposition of the forces in the Holy Land and how they are doing against the Saracen. I am much in your debt for letting me talk to Sir Philip and his nephew. Besides, My Lord Richard is in Aquitaine at this time.”

  The Count was obviously surprised but he also looked interested. “If Lord Richard is so near, why then did he not come to see me himself?” he asked, somewhat archly.

  Sir Guy laughed. “You know only too well, my Lord. He cannot afford to have spies report back to his father that he visited you even for the most innocent reasons.”

  The Count laughed. “Right you are, Sir Guy. But it interests me that the two cannot seem to get along for even the shortest time.”

  “The one is a lion, sir. The other is truly the lion’s cub and would have a country to rule, young as he is. Henry holds the reins very tightly over his impatient sons.”

  “Queen Eleanor, is she, too, back in Aquitaine?”

  “No, she remains in England. Prince Richard came to these parts on her behalf. His father only just allowed it. He distrusts his vassals and, I fear, Richard as well.”

  “What of John, the other son? Is he in his father’s favor while Richard is out of it?” demanded the Count.

  “Prince John is better thought of as the bungler. He tries to rebel and only makes a fool of himself. The king does not trust him, either, but knows which one to watch the most. It is not John.”

  “I am sure that Sir Philip de Gilles of the Templars and Sir Talon here will be happy to provide you with all the information they can on the subject of the Holy Land, Sir Guy. Will you not stay a while longer so that we can indulge this curiosity?”

  Sir Guy bowed. “Thank you my Lord, as ever, you place me deep in your debt.”

  “I hope to place Prince Richard in my debt in time, Sir Guy. As we both know, the yoke of France is irksome to one such as I.”

  Talon had been listening to the discussion with interest. He was witnessing the interchange between powerful men; it surprised him that their loyalties were out in the open. It was clear to him that Sir Guy’s loyalty lay with Prince Richard and not fully with the father. He was impressed that the Count should trust Sir Guy with the understanding that he chafed as a vassal to the King of France. This could be construed as treason, but had he not sworn to protect the Count with his life? This meant that his first loyalty was to the Count before even the King of France.

  Sir Guy smiled. “Then it is settled, I shall stay longer. My Lord, I understand there is to be a joust today. I would see th
e knights of your table demonstrate their prowess.”

  Much later, the Count stood up stiffly. “Sir Guy, I have to attend my councilors for a while; shall we continue this discussion later today? Perhaps after the tournament?” The English lord stood as did Philip and Talon. He turned to Talon. “Did you learn anything of the way the Saracen make war that you can show us here in Christendom, young knight?”

  Talon was very much aware that he was being watched carefully by all the men in the room, even the clerks seemed to be listening.

  Philip spoke up. “Sire, I have seen Talon perform feats with a bow that I doubt few others can match. He tells me that he learned it in Persia. Talon, will you not demonstrate to my Lord the Count this skill? My Lord, it is wondrous what he can do with a bow while on a horse’s back.”

  The Count and Sir Guy looked interested. “Then you shall perform for us all after the jousting is done, Sir Talon.”

  Talon bowed acceptance and they were ushered out by a servant. As they departed, Talon heard the Count say, “The tourney will be in your honor, Sir Guy; there will be a mêlée for the young knights, led by my son, followed by another led by my captains, against the knights of My Lord of Toulouse, and then some single combat bouts.”

  As they walked down the cool corridors, again accompanied by Max, Talon turned to his uncle. “Now you've placed me in a pretty pickle.”

  “Indeed not, Talon, it is good to be able to show off one’s martial skills. The jousting will be entertaining, but your skill with a bow is remarkable. You shall do well, I am sure.” Philip patted him on the shoulder.

  “I agree with Sir Philip, Talon,” Max said. “It does a knight no harm at all to be known for his skill at arms and you are very impressive on horseback.”

  Talon said nothing. He knew he could perform well on Jabbar but he would have preferred to be less conspicuous. It was not in his nature to advertise his skills to others except in situations that demanded it.

  They walked down the stairs and were about to leave when a servant wearing the livery of the Count, who had been hovering at the main entrance, came up to them. He bowed respectfully. “Sirs, my Lord Roger would see Sir Talon de Gilles. Which of you is he?”

  Philip clapped Talon on the shoulder. “I think you are in demand, Talon. Go with this man. I will be returning to the Temple. I shall come later in the day after prayers to watch you show these people what real horsemanship is all about.”

  He and Max walked off, leaving him with the servant. Talon followed the servant to the chambers of the young Count Roger and was greeted by his friends from the evening before. All gave a kiss of greeting but he sensed that Elena gave him more than a mere greeting. He looked into her eyes after they had exchanged greetings and saw a promise there that heated his blood.

  “We were wondering what could keep you with my father for so long, Talon,” said the young Count.

  “He was interested, as is everyone, in what goes on in the Holy Land, my Lord.”

  “Was the ambassador Sir Guy with him?” Andreu asked.

  “He was. He is with Lord Richard, who is in Aquitaine at this time.”

  There were gasps of surprise. “The young Prince Richard has gained a reputation for valor that is second to few other men. So close. We so wish that he would come to Carcassonne,” Galiana said wistfully.

  “That is precisely what your father said, my Lord Roger.” Talon looked over at Roger significantly. The young Count smiled back.

  “My father would indeed like to meet Prince Richard in person, but it would be dangerous for both, I fear. One must have a care as to whom one meets and when.”

  “I hear that there is to be a picnic on the lawns of the garden for your mother, Roger, and we should not be late.” Galiana said. She led the way out of the Count’s chambers.

  As they strode out, Roger walked alongside Talon. “I am to be in the tourney this afternoon. I am to lead the young knights in a mêlée before the main event. Would you care to be one of my knights?”

  “I am honored, but I also have to collect my horse and bow. My uncle, God Bless him, has told the Count of a skill I have with the bow and now I have to demonstrate it to all and sundry.”

  “You could do both. How do you feel about that?”

  Talon hesitated for a second. He remembered the messy mock battle fought on the grass at Albi and wondered, but then he reluctantly decided that he needed to know how to fight like this. Besides, his uncle would be upset if he refused. He nodded. “I will fight alongside you, sir.”

  “That is excellent, Talon,” Roger said. He passed the word to the others, who were equally excited at the prospect of seeing Talon perform in the mêlée alongside the young Count as well as to demonstrate his skill with the bow. Andreu and Donate laughed back at them and warned them both that they were on the other side and not to expect any quarter.

  He had no time to worry about how well he would do when the time came, for they dragged him down to the gardens of the palace where he was once again presented to the Countess. He admired her beauty and the way she looked at him, but once again he was unable to decipher her expression. They passed a very pleasant lunch on the lawn. The cooks who worked for the Count were very well trained. Talon found that he was eating fare that was simple but presented in such a way that a person made a new discovery each time he took another plate from the hovering servants.

  There were many different pâtés from very fine to coarse but each tasted delicious The pâtés and the other pies and sweetmeats were set among olives that had been marinated in olive oil and dusted with dried herbs of all kinds, including lavender. There were cheeses of such variety that he had no idea which to chose; but Elena helped him, laughing at his bemused expression. Then of course there were the wines that he enjoyed, but he had half an eye on the time and did not want to drink too much before the tournament. His companions did not seem to care and ate and drank with gusto.

  The Countess again asked him to sit near and to tell her more of his adventures in the far land of Persia, which he did. He was beginning to enjoy her attention and that of the others in this group, who seemed eager to hear more of the great lands to the east of the Holy Land. But he also noticed that Elena was not so pleased with the arrangement—she fidgeted and looked at the sun often.

  The countess at one time leaned over to him to present him with a small tidbit. Her fingers brushed his lips as he took the sample. She leaned back and smiled at him. “You remind me of a wild animal that is caged, Sir Talon. I was not sure that I would keep my fingers.”

  “My Lady,” he protested, “not even a caged lion could bite the fingers of one so lovely.”

  The assembly clapped at his response, but Talon finally realized that the countess understood him all too clearly.

  She smiled back and said gently. “You have left something behind in those strange lands, Sir Talon. Only a woman could know.”

  He felt himself become hot and stammered a feeble reply that seemed only to confirm her assessment.

  “So I was right, it is a woman,” she murmured in a very low voice.

  “A princess, my lady,” he all but whispered, his face ashen. How could she have divined this? he wondered.

  “May God bring you together one day. I shall pray for you,” she said quietly. Her eyes lingered on his for a moment.

  It seemed to Talon that they were within a space only they were aware of for a couple of long moments and then they were back into the conversation all around. He was relieved to note that no one else seemed to have heard the interchange. The boys were wagering on their particular side’s chances of winning the mêlée.

  Talon had to excuse himself and run all the way to his lodgings to find Anwl and to prepare himself for the jousting. He was eager to see what the knights of this great Count could do in a mêlée. He was nervous about his capabilities on the field during the mock battle alongside the prince, but he was reasonably confident that he could handle himself.

  He
had Jabbar, who responded immediately to every command, either through his back or leg and hand; they were as one together, which would enable him to concentrate upon the fighting without having to worry about controlling his animal. He rode Jabbar toward the great fields outside the city with Anwl and the groom in attendance and reported to the master of ceremonies, who had already been warned by one of the Count’s men that he would be along and asked him what he needed in the field. He was told when to arrive for the mêlée which was to be approximately mid-afternoon, so he had time to watch some of the individual jousts before he, too, had to put on the chain mail that he had brought from home. Philip had told him to do this even though he had not been sure he would need it. The fine chain links were lighter but of better steel than the heavy hauberk and leggings of the local knights.

  Talon gave instructions and then dismounted and tossed the reins to the groom who would care for the horses while Anwl would watch the equipment until needed. Max came over and elected to stay with Anwl.

  Talon had been instructed by the Countess to come to her stand where she and of course the Count would be watching the jousting. He was allowed in by the sentries and went toward the waving group of young friends who stood off to the side of the thrones where the Count and his lady would be seated.

  Talon was impressed with the pomp and ceremony; it reminded him of the days he had attended the polo matches in Isfahan. There was an enormous crowd; it seemed as though fully half the city’s residents had come out of the city onto its fields. Obviously, although frowned upon by the Church, the sport was very popular here in Languedoc.

  There was much blowing of trumpets, flags were flying lazily from high standards in the light breeze, and knights strutted about in their chain mail, either on horseback or on foot. All seemed determined to be seen and noticed by those in the Count’s stand. Talon mentioned to Roger that he was utterly confused by all the emblems and designs on their surcoats.