Knight Assassin

by James Boschert

  At the far end of the chamber Talon could see a doorway but could not make out its interior. Then a servant came into the main chamber, walked though and carried a torch into the other room. The light of the torch briefly illuminated a bed and drapes.

  Talon decided that this must be the royal bed chamber. He must get into it and meet the prince there once the old man had left. But that was not to be for some time as the two men had much to discuss. Again their conversation was hard to follow as, although they used French, they also mixed it with another language.

  One advantage this intense conversation provided Talon was that he could make his way unseen to the entrance of the bed chamber, confirm that it was indeed being made ready and then slip into the room without detection.

  The servant, a young page in full livery, was busy pulling the blankets on the bed into shape and laying out a nightshirt for the Prince. He looked up at one point, but that was because he felt a slight wind and saw the candle flicker, but he noticed nothing untoward and continued with his work.

  Talon guessed that the Prince was sleeping alone this night, as there was no evidence of a woman to be seen in the chamber.

  After an interminable period, when the page had fallen asleep at the end of the bed and Talon had almost fallen asleep himself, he heard the outer door of the other chamber open and close and heard footsteps coming towards the room he was in.

  Talon heard the Prince call the name of the page, who woke with a muttered apology at the presence of his master. The boy hastened to help the Prince out of his clothes and then fetched the water bowl with a cloth for the Prince to wash with. After some splashing the Prince talked in a very gentle tone to the boy in French who responded in kind. Talon made the realization that this was why there was no woman in the room. The Prince took his pleasure with young boys! Could that be possible, he wondered?

  He sat in the dark with his astonishment, wishing he was anywhere but in the Prince’s bed chamber.

  But it did not come to anything beyond the gentle words this night, much to his relief. Finally the Prince seemed to want to sleep and the boy wanted to join his companions in a dormitory.

  The prince got up and went to the Guard a Robe in a corner of the chamber and relieved himself noisily, then padded back and clambered back into the bed with a grunt.

  Not long after that Talon heard the deep regular breathing of a fit man in a deep sleep. Talon edged out of his hiding place and stood listening to Richard as he slept. This was a man going towards his prime who was already a legend. A young lion, Talon had been told, who was fretting against the chains his father had set about him, wishing for his own kingdom well before the old man died.

  Talon decided that he should not wake the Prince but instead leave a longer and more detailed message. He went back into the outer chamber and found a quill, ink and a parchment. The hound, which must have been an old retired dog, looked up at him but appeared to think that he belonged, because apart from thumping its tail on the stone flags it did not come up to investigate him further.

  Praying that no one would disturb the Prince, Talon sat close to the light of the fire and wrote a longer and much more detailed account of what had happened and added that he was bound to tell the Prince to his face the information that the Count had given him.

  He placed the parchment on the pillow near to the Prince’s head and, using the prince’s dagger which he found on a nearby table, he drove it silently into the soft material pinning the letter in place within inches of the Prince’s sleeping head. The Prince could not possibly fail to notice it when he woke the next day. Talon left as silently as he had come; bypassing the two sleepy sentries at the entrance with ease. Half an hour later he was with Anwl at the base of the castle walls.

  No troubled thought at midnight haunts

  Of loved ones left behind;

  No vision of the morrow's strife

  The warrior's dream alarms;

  No braying horn, nor screaming fife,

  At dawn shall call to arms.

  - Theodore O’Hara

  Chapter 16

  Royal Meeting

  After a hurried breakfast of bread and cold milk they left the city the next day at dawn. Although tired from his previous night’s exertions Talon wanted to put distance between himself and the city, besides there was a place where he wanted to meet the Prince and talk alone. The monastery was only five miles ride, a short one for the Prince should he wish to follow up on the letter, and a sanctuary for Talon should things go wrong.

  They rode up to the large entrance of the stone buildings and Talon banged on the nail-studded wooden door. A monk peered out at them through a grill and asked them politely what they wanted.

  “I need to talk to the Abbot; it is very important. The Prince Richard is going to come here today, and he will wish to see the abbey,” said Talon as convincingly as he could sound.

  The monk gasped with surprise and told them to wait while he hurried off to consult with a higher authority.

  A few minutes later the doors creaked open and they were ushered into the courtyard of the spacious building that reminding Talon of Mass Dieu, the Templar building he had visited when he first came to Languedoc.

  They were greeted at the entrance to the chapel by a white haired old man in the plain dress of a monk but who carried himself with unmistakable authority.

  “Are you the one who is saying that the Prince Richard is coming to visit the monastery?” he asked in a thin, reedy voice.

  “Indeed he is coming, my Lord. I am sent ahead to ensure that you are made aware of this. He will want to worship in private in the Chapel. He will not wish to be disturbed while doing so.”

  “I… I suppose this can be arranged, although it is very unusual,” spluttered the Abbot, but he started to issue orders to the monks who began to run about preparing for the royal visit. They completely ignored Talon after this.

  He turned to Anwl. “Anwl, go and hide in the forest nearby. Do not be seen by anyone. I don't know how this will go; if he does not believe me the prince could arrest me or even kill me.

  “When they, the Prince and his people leave, if I do not come out soon after, do you go back to Carcassonne and tell the Count that I failed in my mission. Tell him all that you know and then go back to my parents and tell of this. Go, my friend!”

  Anwl nodded his understanding and trotted his horse out of the courtyard. Talon glimpsed him heading across the fields towards the nearby woods before he tethered Jabbar in the stables at the end of the courtyard. Then he disappeared into the chapel where he hid himself from sight inside the privacy of the choir. None of the monks who came in to pray or tidy up noticed him. His stomach rumbled; they had not eaten very much for breakfast.

  His thoughts drifted and went far away as he wondered for the thousandth time what might have happened to Rav’an and Reza while he was in this strange, violent land where life seemed even cheaper than he had known it to be in Persia. He muttered a short prayer for their safe keeping and then remembered Jean the priest, and said one for him too.

  Time passed and Talon watched the sunlight moving by the chapel windows outside the choir and wondered if he had been seriously mistaken in all that had transpired. Had the prince seen the letter? He could not have missed it right there on his pillow. Had the prince decided not to come after all?

  His worries increased as time went by. It must have been three hours after they had come to the monastery that he heard the muffled sound of iron shod hooves on the stone road in front of the monastery. There was a shout and then the doors creaked open and he heard the sound of several horses entering the courtyard. He heard the murmur of voices dominated by one stronger and more commanding, followed by quiet and then footsteps coming to the chapel entrance.

  They paused and Talon could hear the chink of chain mail and the jingle of spurs as a heavy man tramped down the short aisle to come to a stop at the entrance of the choir. There was the unmistakable hiss of a sword
being drawn just before the entrance, and the Prince walked forward into the narrow gap between the opposite facing seats within the enclosed space of the choir.

  Talon watched the Prince walk in and then stood up slowly from where he had been sitting at the back in the shadows.

  The Prince was a large man, and in full chain armor he was imposing; with his sword drawn he was menacing. He leveled the sword at Talon and spoke.

  “Are you…!” he began.

  But Talon put his fingers to his lips indicating silence and motioned the Prince to a seat while keeping his distance. The prince stood irresolute for a moment then, still holding his sword, sat down hard. But he glared at Talon warily.

  “Wh,y you are but a boy! Where is the phantom who placed that letter and knife in my pillow?” he demanded in a hoarse whisper now waving the parchment at Talon.

  “That letter was all about treason to my person! Explain it and be quick about it!”

  “My Lord, I can explain it…” Talon started.

  But the prince interrupted him. “I should have both of you drawn and hung for such a deed. It scared the shit out of me! In fact, I still might do it! How did he get into my bed chamber, for God’s sake? The guards say they saw and heard nothing despite a well done thrashing.”

  “My Lord Prince, it was I who came to you last night,” said Talon kneeling, his head bent low.

  “You! You are far too young to know such skills. Where did you learn to do this kind of thing? Who taught you? Some devil?”

  “Yes, my Prince, in some ways they are like devils. I learned these skills in Persia. But, my Lord, listen I beg of you! There is very little time to explain and you are in great danger if we are seen together. I bring a message from the Count of Carcassonne for your ears only.”

  “Why did you not tell me this to begin with or even last night?” demanded the Prince irritably making a great effort to calm down.

  “Because of what happened to Lord Guy, sire. Here I have a sanctuary. How could I know if perhaps what I had witnessed you already knew about, and might even have condoned? Then I would have been in mortal danger,” responded Talon.

  Prince Richard sat back against the wooden bench; it creaked under his weight. He stared to his left at the simple figure of the Christ suspended in the recess of the apse. Within the confines of the choir it was very quiet.

  “I can see that you are not to be underestimated, boy. What has happened to Lord Guy?” he asked in a resigned tone, almost as though he already knew. He placed his sword across his knees.

  Talon told him of the ambush and his subsequent flight to Auch. The Prince listened intently, then he asked,

  “So boy, you think Lord Guy is probably dead or taken prisoner and the letter is taken; is that what you're saying?” Richard put his hand to his forehead and his other fist clenched as he considered the implications for himself if it found its way to his father.

  Then he stirred and spoke quietly but with venom.

  “Even if my father obtains this information, my Lord Guy, you will be revenged, and so will you, Sir Nigel, and indeed Sir Bertrand. Good, faithful men who have died to serve me.”

  “My Prince, there is one man who is very close to you who was there giving commands to the men who killed Sir Bertrand and who chased me through the forest. I... I saw him again last night with you in your outer chambers.”

  Richard was visibly disturbed. “You were in the room with us last night? How could this be? You must be some kind of phantom. What is this you say? What man? Describe him to me!”

  Talon did his best to describe the man and, as he did, he could see Richard pale. He continued, "Sir Bertrand said that Sir Guy was taken by a man with a name something like Cumb’land? I could not understand the name well, but I am sure he said something like that, sir.”

  The prince sat back as though a ghost had entered the room, his fingers gripping the sides of the wooden seat, his mouth open in surprise.

  “God’s truth! I cannot believe it! The man you describe as a traitor is my Lord of Cumberland, son of the Count of Westmoreland. How can it be? I have given him all my love!”

  Richard was very angry now. His fists were clenching and unclenching as he now paced up and down within the confines of the vestry.

  “Yes, I am sure of my man, my Lord, but the Count told me that the letter cannot incriminate you other than it is the normal greetings of one Count to a Prince.”

  Richard looked surprised and then looked hard at Talon. "Say that again?”

  Talon repeated what he had heard from the Count.

  “My Lord Raymond is a clever man indeed! Not even my father could find fault with that. I am corresponding with my neighbors and that is called diplomacy in most Christian countries, even in England.”

  They both heard the door to the chapel being opened and the step of someone entering.

  “I left clear orders that I was not to be disturbed for any reason whatever!” roared the prince.

  They heard the sound of rapid footsteps leaving and the door slammed shut. There was silence in the chapel, but both men listened for a couple of tense moments then relaxed.

  “I am to recite the message from the Count to your ears only, my Lord Prince.” said Talon softly.

  “Go to then. As you pointed out there is not much time and I am not used to spending it in a chapel. I shall deal with my Lord Cumberland in due course. He is not the only one who understands intrigue. He is for sure working for my father and as such is a viper in my bosom and one I have nursed these many years. But he shall pay for this… the traitor he is, in time… in time. Go on with the numbers from the Count,” he commanded.

  Talon dutifully recited the men and equipment Richard could expect from the Count when the time came for him to rise up against his father Henry and claim Aquitaine for himself.

  Richard listened with great concentration until Talon was sure he had given the prince all the message. There was silence in the choir while Richard digested the information.

  Finally he spoke. “The Count was right when he picked you for his messenger, young man. You have excelled in your mission and deserve to be rewarded for your courage. What can I give you for your service?”

  Talon knelt in front of the imposing Prince. “I want nothing my Lord, but to serve my new master the Count. This I have done and am content indeed to have met you, sire. Your fame is legend in Languedoc.”

  Richard grinned at that. “Is it? I am glad of that. Now I have a message you are to take back to the Count. Here too is a bag of gold to pay for your efforts. You have done well. What is your name?”

  “It is Talon, my Lord Prince. I am a knight of the Count.”

  The prince’s eyes widened with surprise. “You are a knight, eh? Then Sir Talon, you might be young but you have surpassing courage. Here is the message…” He spoke for a couple of minutes.

  He said finally, “There is but one task left for you to perform for me. You know where the Lord Guy my loyal friends died. I need their bodies to be brought back to Auch where they can be buried with honor. Can you wait on the road for a detachment I shall send from the town to meet you, and bring them back to me? Then Cumberland will be confronted and he and his men’s heads will grace the gate arch of Auch. Will you do this for me, Sir Talon?”

  Indeed I shall, sire. Willingly! I liked Lord Guy; neither he nor Bertrand deserved to die like this.”

  The Prince clapped Talon on the shoulder.

  “Well said, Sir Talon, well said.” He took a ring from his pouch, along with a small bag of coins. Talon looked down upon the sack of gold in his hand and the Prince's ring.

  “If you are ever within my lands again and need my assistance, young knight, show this to someone in authority and you will be well looked after. You are to show it to the Count, but it is not for him. It is for you. I shall send him a reward in due time for his kind assistance; it will doubtless be in coin. Go now and God protect you along the way.

  “The knight i
n charge whom you are to meet will show you a seal ring with one lion rampant upon it as a sign of my authority.”

  The Prince strode out of the chapel and slammed the door behind him. There were voices and then the sound of horses leaving the courtyard and finally silence.

  Mindful of Anwl waiting in the forest, Talon hastily left the chapel without being noticed. Mounting Jabbar he left before someone remembered to close the main doors of the monastery. In fact one of the monks called after him as he left, but Talon did not want to talk to anyone other than Anwl. He rode in the direction he had last seen his companion take, and was rewarded with the sight of the Welsh bowman walking his horse out of the dense copse where he had been hiding.

  “M’lord, I watched them go and was afraid! I thought… I wondered, if you might be harmed,” said Anwl with relief as they came together in the middle of a field.

  “I am well, Anwl, and Prince Richard is also well, and now he is armed for the treachery about him. There is nothing more we can do for him here.

  “He is going to send a detachment of men to join us and we are to take them to the place where Lord Guy disappeared and Bertrand died. We will, God willing, find their bodies still there.”

  They moved off the road and waited for several hours before they saw a large detachment of mounted men coming along the road from Auch. They were moving rapidly and left a small cloud of dust behind them.

  Talon watched them carefully and it was only when the men were almost opposite that he showed himself. Behind him Anwl stood with a bow drawn in case of more treachery.

  However the leader of the detachment lifted his hand to halt the band of men behind him and greeted Talon cordially in good French.

  “Sir Talon? My name is Sir Harold de Mays. My liege the Prince has told me of your place in this game. Here is the authority he gave me.”

  He produced a ring for Talon to examine. “Be assured that Lord Cumberland is arrested and in a dungeon at this time. You are safe with us. Your task is to show us where Lord Guy was attacked and where we might find the bodies of my friends Lord Nigel and Sir Bertrand.”