by S E Turner
Cornelius responded with a subtle nod towards his boot. 'Easy access in there.'
Gye put an arm around his friend's shoulder.
Cornelius reached round to Gye's hand, turned his head and kissed it. 'Always there for me, my dear friend. What would I have done without you?'
'Probably die,' came the honest response.
With all sails set to catch the midday breeze and the ties set loose from the dockside stanchions, the ship pulled away from the wharf. From the stern, the passengers watched the cheering crowds and waved furiously back to them. None more so than Cornelius and Beauchamp, and when the people were nothing more than dots on a hazy horizon, the two men walked the decks and climbed down a ladder into the quarters and checked out their cabin below.
It was of a comfortable size and offered bunk beds for two people, a wash basin, a large leather captain’s chair, and a rosewood chest of drawers with a crystal decanter and two silver goblets on the top. One panelled wall was lined with rows of books while the opposite wall housed a bundle of rolled up parchment. And the glorious sun filtered through the porthole to expose a rack, three tiers high, of the finest vintage wine.
'Goodness, Beauchamp, you have surpassed yourself this time,' said Cornelius, launching himself onto the top bunk, kicking his boots off, and slipping his arms behind his head. His friend perched on the edge of the lower bunk and removed his hat. 'Like I said, diamonds talk the loudest.'
'You never did tell me where you got them.'
'Didn't I?' he replied, wiping the sweat mark on his bald head from where his hat had been.
Cornelius turned upside down and faced him. 'No, you didn't.'
'I'll tell you one day,' he said, trying to avoid the question.
'Well, we've got three months of nothing to do on this boat, so this might be as good a time as any.' He swung himself down, sat by his friend and peered into his face again. 'Well?'
Beauchamp couldn't hide anymore. Cornelius was hungry for knowledge. The diamonds had intrigued him and stirred his curiosity. All these years, he had kept his past safe and secure. No one knew. Not a soul. And now he was about to divulge everything. He would get no peace until he did.
'I ran away, Master Cornelius.'
'From whom?'
'I will be telling you things now that you might not like, Master Cornelius.'
A dipped frown from Cornelius was enough for Beauchamp to continue .
'I was sixteen years old when they attacked us.' 'Who attacked you?'
'That does not matter, for now. Let us just say it was an army intent on death and destruction for their own elixir of power.'
Cornelius' brow stayed furrowed and his expression fixed.
'That was eleven years ago,' said Beauchamp.
'A year before you came to the palace?'
'Yes, a year to the day, near enough.'
'So, what happened?'
'At sixteen years old, I was a scared young man. I was too frightened to fight. I hid away and watched as my family and friends got butchered.' Looking to the ground he sighed heavily. 'I can still hear their screams in my nightmares, Cornelius. I can still see the stream running red with their blood. Our fields raging with burning fires, our homes ablaze with vicious tongues of yellow and blue. The smoke, the smell, the burning flesh.' He looked up to his friend with tears streaming. 'We were humble farmers, Cornelius. We weren't prepared for anything like it.'
Cornelius looked ashen, but then he pieced together something else. 'I don't understand, Beauchamp. If you come from a farming village with no soldiers to protect you, how come you are the Marquis de Beauchamp?'
'I will come to that later. That is much later.'
'All right, so back to the slaughter,' Cornelius grimaced.
The Marquis stood up, selected a bottle of vintage wine and poured himself a glass. Returning to his seat, he put the bottle by his side on the floor and continued his story. 'Even though my own mother and father got hacked to pieces in front of me, I could not do anything to save them. I was too afraid.' He knocked back a mouthful.
'What did you do?' Cornelius waved the offered goblet away.
'I waited till dark, until it was safe. The soldiers had taken some prisoners, but the rest were dead. Men, women, children were either taken as slaves or lay mutilated on the ground. The crows had already started pecking on the bodies of some, and I knew that before long, the wolves would be down to finish the rest off.'
'Your mother and father?' Cornelius asked, fearful of the answer.
'I buried them, along with my younger brother and sister. I wept and prayed for their forgiveness. I prayed that they would give me strength to avenge their deaths.'
'So, what happened next?'
'I walked and walked. I didn't know what direction I was going in. I just thought that south would be warmer with more food and that my chances of survival would be better.' He poured another glass of wine. Cornelius shook it away again.
Beauchamp returned to his story. 'My legs ached after wandering for so many miles over hills and through dense forests, but the pain was nothing compared to the tortured soul of a coward.' He took another gulp of claret and savoured the taste as it swirled around his mouth, smacking his lips and wearing a thin smile as it went down.
Cornelius remained fixed.
'I carried on across the landscape with no particular destination in mind, just heading south with the sun guiding me. I lived on nuts and apples and managed to snare a rabbit or two along the way.' He paused at the memory. 'I remember that third night so well. It was dusk; the evening was still warm, and the sun was just going down. I had sat by a tree to rest. I had built a fire to keep away the wolves, but I could scale a tree quick enough if the fire didn't deter them.' He took another gulp of wine. Cornelius supported his chin on the palm of his hand. His face was wrinkled, and his elbow formed a dent in his knee. 'Then I heard a twig snap, I grabbed a branch and lit it to keep away the monsters. I thought it was a witch or a dragon. But I told myself they lived on the other side of the world. They couldn't hurt me, there were far worse monsters out there.' He grimaced at the memory and sneaked a cheeky look at Cornelius. 'My heart was pounding. I was exhausted. I felt useless because I had watched my family die. I just wanted to die myself.'
He paused and sighed. Cornelius saw a tear run down his face. Wiping it away, he carried on. 'A stranger came out of the trees. He was so silent, all I heard was that one twig. He was an old man with a kind face, white hair, and a long beard. His clothes were worn not tattered. He needed a walking stick to aid him. He reached out his hand to me. I offered him some of my food. He sat down beside me and we talked. ''Are you lost boy?'' he asked me. ''Sort of,'' I said. ''Where are your family?'' he asked. I couldn't even say the words, Cornelius. I couldn't even tell an old man what I had done or what a coward I was and that I was responsible for my parents' death.'
'But you weren't responsible, dear friend. It wasn't your fault.'
Beauchamp took another swig of wine. 'The old man stayed with me that night, and in the morning, I awoke to find he had prepared a wonderful breakfast of rabbit, eggs, mushrooms, and fennel. He had a fresh flagon of water that I wolfed down.'
'Wow!'
'That's what I thought. Then he said to me, 'You can't learn to fight on an empty stomach.'
'Really? He said that?'
'He did, Cornelius. That's exactly what he said.'
'So, what happened then?'
'Well, you remember how I taught you to fight in the cave?'
'Yes,' Cornelius was now sat upright.
'I was taught that way by him.'
'An old man taught you?'
'But this was no ordinary old man. He had skills that surpassed those that I have now. His walking stick was an extension of his mind, and his mind was still young and active.'
Cornelius had so many questions now but didn't want to deviate from the story too much. 'How long were you in the forest? '
'Eight months… maybe
a year. I had already learned to hunt and kill small mammals and rodents as a child in the village, so I could use a knife well. I could skin a rabbit in thirty seconds and help my father butcher a deer. It was courage and strength that I lacked, and of course, sword fighting skills.'
'And he taught you all of that?' Cornelius' eyes were wide open with surprise.
'He did, just like I taught you, but he was undoubtedly a better teacher than me, so it didn't take him long.'
'Or maybe you were a better student?' Cornelius smiled.
Beauchamp shrugged and dismissed his praise. 'No, my tutor was the best.'
'So, what happened?' Cornelius was still hungry for the story.
'One morning I awoke, and he had gone. Nothing remained of him except the dent in the matted leaves where he had slept, and the book that he always carried with him and referenced. I was distraught. I didn't even know his name, but he taught me everything I knew. I looked for him for hours, hoping he had just gone for a walk, or gone to see someone else for a few days. I stayed in the same place and waited, hoping he would come back. But he didn't. All I had of him were my memories and the book.
'So, what did you do?'
'I didn't look at the book for days. I felt that it was his personal possession, so I didn't have any right to it. But when I realised that he wasn't coming back and he had left the book for me as a parting gift, I opened it and read it from page to page with amazement.'
'What was inside?'
'Its pages were of the finest calf vellum and the intricate lettering was penned in iron gall ink with detailed drawings and illuminated with such colours that could only have come from a far superior kingdom.' He breathed in deeply at the memory. 'Page after page of amazing information—mostly fighting skills, protective stances, defence moves, and how to disarm someone, as well as nature's harvest that would help me along my way, such as herbs, plants, wines, foods.
It had texts and tables that took me months to decipher with passages and graphs that would always be alien to me. But right at the back of the book was a whole section on the meaning of cards and how to play them.'
Cornelius was opened mouthed with astonishment. 'How to play cards?'
'Yup, how to play cards...' His voice lowered. 'In times of solitude, cards are an insightful tool—a game to share with others or to be used as an almanac.'
'An almanac?' Cornelius found himself repeating the last words that Beauchamp said every time.
'Well, for example—the king and the queen of kingdoms, the knave is evil, and the ace is the god we worship. There are fifty-two cards in a deck of cards, the same as the weeks in a year. Four suits which symbolise the seasons in a year—that we farmers work by. Diamonds and hearts illustrate life, clubs and spades portray the afterlife. The two colours interpret the red blood of life and the black darkness in death. The ten numbered cards are a family. Do you see the importance of them now, Master Cornelius?'
'Yes, I do,' Cornelius tightened his bottom lip, puckered his chin and nodded in agreement. Gye looked satisfied that his student had understood and carried on with his tale.
'So, I walked further south and the road took me to Ataxata.'
'And you answered the notice to be my aide?'
'Well not quite.'
Cornelius' silence urged him to continue. 'I had nothing. I had no money, I had no decent clothes. The rags I wore were the same ones I had been wearing for a year. So, I took my chances and went into a tavern by the quay to challenge someone to a game of cards.'
'What were you going to barter with, though?'
'My book.'
'What? But that was your prized possession now, how could you do that?'
'Because I knew I wouldn't lose.'
'It was still a risk not worth taking.' Cornelius looked shocked.
'At that point, I didn't have too many options.' Gye poured another glass.
'All right, so what happened?' Cornelius waved his offering away again.
'At first, I wasn't let in, I looked like a vagrant, my clothes were worse than a peasant. I stank, my hair was matted and stuck to my head. I must have looked so dreadful. The bartender had me by the scruff of the neck and was going to throw me out. But I spotted this man in the corner—he was on his own getting drunk. I could tell he was rich by the clothes he wore, what he was drinking, and his manner.' He finished off the bottle of wine and showed it to Cornelius. 'Get me another bottle, could you, good man. This is very thirsty work.'
'That was the real Marquis de Beauchamp, then?' Cornelius dutifully got up to get another bottle and filled the goblet to the brim.
'It was.'
'So, what happened?'
'I said to the barman that I knew him, that I was an errand boy called Gye and I had been told to deliver him this book. The bartender looked at me and said, 'You know the Marquis de Beauchamp?' I said that I didn't know him personally, just that I had business with him, so, the bartender let me go in. I went up to the gentleman, and with a bit of persuading patter, I challenged him. He laughed at first, but he soon accepted my proposal when I told him that the book was full of spells and magic. Remember, the book was a very old specimen with worn leather, and ancient parchment—it certainly looked like a book of a warlock. Fortunately, he was drunk enough to believe my story so he offered a pouch of diamonds as his stake. Of course he never really thought he would lose to me.'
'So, I'm guessing you won, as you have the diamonds and no book?'
'Not exactly... I won all the games. We played three times and it was the best of three, but he accused me of cheating and raised his dagger to me, and I got thrown out.'
'So, you had lost the book and the diamonds at this stage?'
'I had lost everything, so I had nothing now except the knowledge in my head. But I couldn't let him get away with it. I concealed myself in a doorway and hid myself away. It was very dark now, so no one saw me. But I had been taught by the master how to be like a cat, how to press yourself into alleyways and corners and wait for a victim to make an appearance. So, I waited and waited until the thief came out.'
'Was anyone around? Did anyone see you?'
'I didn't see anyone, and it was very late by now.'
'So, what did you do?'
'When he came out, I approached him and asked for my book back or the diamonds that I had won. I reminded him that I had won fair and square, but if he wouldn't honour that agreement like a gentleman, then I wanted my book returned.' Beauchamp took a gulp of wine and wiped the dribble from his mouth with the back of his hand. 'He laughed out loud and pulled his knife out on me—he was clutching the book with one hand and the knife with another. We were by the quayside and getting nearer and nearer to the jetty. The Marquis was totally drunk and kept stabbing at me. I could easily have disarmed him and killed him, but I just wanted my winnings or my book returned. But he kept goading and laughing, taunting and teasing, jabbing and fooling around, getting nearer and nearer to the jetty's edge. I was trying to pull him back to safety, but he was so drunk, he had no idea where he was. Eventually, he slipped out of my grasp and he fell in. I dived in after him and we were grappling in the sea. He was trying to drown me now. The book had gone, and I couldn't get to it. I reached out for it desperately, but I couldn't get a hold of it. I watched it disappear. The Marquis was pushing me down with one hand and trying to stab me with the other. But watching my gift disappear fuelled the rage in me, and now I found my strength. I wrenched the knife free from his grasp, slit his throat once, and felt the life go out of him straight away. The book was long gone, but I had time to get the pouch out of his pocket plus a handful of notes and heaved myself to the surface. Once I got my breath back, I ran off, found some dry clothes hanging on a line, and hid myself in a doorway for the night. Fearing I would be recognised, I shaved my hair off with his knife. The next day I saw the notice to be your aide. I bought some new fine clothes in the town and called myself The Marquis de Beauchamp .'
Gye finished off the rest
of his wine in one go with a cracking 'aahhhhh' and filled the goblet up again. Cornelius was still looking at him, opened mouthed, some two minutes later.
'So, who are you then?' He managed to articulate some words round a heavy mouth. 'And what do we do if the authorities have found out about you and what you did?'
'Well, it happened two years before we were exiled, so I expect the body was eaten, devoured, or certainly lost at sea. I am sure the body would have been found in that time if it was still in one piece, so, I am not too concerned. But please remember that it was in self defence—it wasn't cold blooded murder. It really was either him or me. I was acting honourably when I challenged him to a game of cards. Maybe I took advantage of him in his drunken state, that would be my only crime. And yes, the gods looked down on me that day.'
'Of course,' said Cornelius.
Gye took another large mouthful of the claret and swilled it round a dry, exhausted mouth before swallowing and closing heavy eyes in satisfaction.
'But the authorities won't be looking for a woman, will they?' A completely new thread was weaved into the story.
'What? Gye! you would change your identity? Surely you don't have to go to such extremes.'
'I don't need to.'
'Sorry, you've lost me. I am not following this at all, now,' Cornelius shook his head and furrowed his brow again.
'I am a woman, Cornelius. I am not a man. I changed my identity to get the position in the palace.'
'What?' Cornelius stood bolt upright, got a goblet, poured himself a full glass of wine and knocked it back in one go. 'I don't believe you!'
'It's true! I can show you if you like—I have pert breasts, a womb that swells my stomach, and a slit between my legs instead of a penis.'
'No, no, that won't be necessary.' Sitting opposite her on the stool, he recoiled at the thought. 'You have felt like a brother to me all these years, but now you feel like my sister.' He looked her up and down, totally bewildered at her revelation. 'How come I have never known. How come I have never seen. How come you have never told me?'
'There are ways and means. The last three years you have lived in a cave anyway. Before that, I had my own room in the palace. It was tricky when we were in the hovel, but we paid to use Shorty's bathroom, which we did separately. But to be honest, you weren't really looking, so I managed to conceal everything quite well. And I didn't want to tell you in case you dismissed me at once. Great women are often overlooked, you know.'