The Bow (16 page)

With a laugh, Sir Walter broke in. ‘Ah, bravely said,
man! It’s a neat point, but there’s truth in it, and there’s no
one here will force the measure of what you say.’ He shook his
head, as though he had forgotten what to say, then went on:

‘
So you would go home?’

‘
Aye, my lord.’

‘
And leave us to the feast.’

‘
I go home fat enough, my lord.’ He risked a smile.
‘There’s a patch of land I’ve my eye on, and with plunder from
the field, and ransom from a squire . . .’

‘
Ah!’ Sir Walter held up his hand. ‘A squire ye
say. The one taken at Cap le Havre?’

James nodded.

The old warlord sucked his teeth and rubbed his beard.
‘There could be a problem there.’

‘
My lord?’

For just a moment, the knight of Hungerford looked at
his boots. Then he straightened. ‘The squire’s name is Giles le
Normand de Fecamp. He is the son of a lord of Normandy, Roger, duc de
Fecamp.’

‘
He fought well, sire. Myself and another archer . .
.’

'Aye, I know, I know. And ye made your mark upon his
breastplate, and sent him to the provost, and I as your captain in
this recorded your share of any ransom.’

'I thank you, my lord.’

'No. Don’t thank me yet, lad. The point is, there will
be no ransom, no prize money, nor weight of plunder from this squire
. . .nothing!’

James stepped back as though he had been pushed. He
stood, mouth open, not knowing what to say. In the end, it was
William who broke the silence.

‘
Listen James’, he said. ‘You are denied this
ransom because Earl Thomas would have it so. He is keen that the duke
of Fecamp take up the English cause, or at the very least do nothing
to hinder it. The return of his son will be a gift, hopefully well
received. There is politic in this. More than a soldier’s ransom.’
He shrugged. ‘Kings and princes, James. Kings and princes.’

There seemed nothing more that could be said. James held
his peace, even though he knew his silence could be taken as insult.
At last Sir Walter waved him away. ‘Go now!’ he said.

‘
My lord.’

‘
What is it, man?’

'Am I to receive nothing beyond my wages?’

‘
What, eh? Have ye not been listening? The squire is
to be freed, sans prejudice as they say. He goes home as a free man.’
He paused and brushed his moustache. ‘I am sorry, but you do a
service to your lord.’

'So I am to be denied . . .’

'You are denied nothing!’ roared Sir Walter. ‘Ransom
is a sometime privilege, not a right. Your lord, whom you shun to
serve any longer may withdraw it as he wills. Giles Le Normand de
Fecamp is no longer your prisoner.’

James opened his mouth to reply, but saw William
Bretoun’s warning glance, and said nothing. Instead, he breathed
deeply, bowed and walked away.

For a time Sir Walter watched him go, then he turned
back towards the camp. ‘Come, captain’, he said. ‘There’s
work to do.’

‘
Sire’, replied William as he walked beside him, ‘Ye
have not yet told that archer he is chosen to take Le Normand back to
his father.’

Sir Walter smiled. ‘One thing at a time, Captain
William. If I’d told him now, I’ll warrant his response would’ve
forced me to string him up from the nearest tree. No, we’ll wait
for the morrow when he’s calmed down a little. Besides, I’ll pay
him well for his duty.’

‘
And if he had agreed to sign the new indenture, what
then my lord?’

‘
Hah! You are too subtle for an old soldier like me,
Captain William, but I’ll tell ye this,’ and here the warlord put
his finger by the side of his nose, ‘ If that Chiswick bowman had
made his mark to the Earl’s seal, he’d have less to grieve over
than he does now.’

The following day James went down to the docks to
arrange passage to England. There he was met by the Earl’s marshal
and three men-at-arms who told him that he was to report to the
Dorset banner forthwith. There was to be no argument, and James knew
it. He took a long look at the ships clustered along the wharf, and
at the sea beyond, then he turned and went with the Earl’s escort
back into the town, and from there to the camp.

When he arrived at the Earl’s tent, Sir Thomas was
leaning over a table, studying a map, and running his finger between
what seemed to be a river and two castles. He did not seem to even
notice James. The guards left and James stood waiting. At last the
Earl spoke, still looking at the map:

‘
You must be James of Chiswick, the archer who refused
my indenture, and stirred the anger of Sir Walter Hungerford.’

James did not reply.

'Speak up, man! There’s nothing in the statutes and
ordinances of war says I can knock your head off for giving me an
honest answer. Are you he?’

'I am my lord.’

‘
So!’ The Earl left off the map, and straightening
up, looked straight into James’ eyes. ‘Ah, yes! I know ye. At
Valmont. You were there, all right. A good man, Captain William tells
me, and Sir Walter too.’

‘
I fought, sire.’

‘
So ye did. So ye did. And now ye would go home.’

‘
If ye would grant . . .’

'If I would grant? Hah! What’s to grant ye, James of
Chiswick. Ye are a free man. Your first indenture is complete, but ye
have refused the second. There’s nought I can do about that.’ He
stopped and stared at the map again. ‘Still, there’s the matter
of the ransom, and the squire of Fecamp.’

There was another silence. Again the Earl turned to his
map. Out of the corner of his eye James could see a shield propped
against a trestle. It had on it the two golden leopards of Fecamp and
Normandy: the same shield he had taken from the young squire.

‘
Sir Walter has told you?’ the Earl asked suddenly.

‘
Aye, my lord.’ James could not keep the
disappointment from his voice.

‘
Then you understand that your claim to ransom is
void. Good! Now, I am going to give you a chance to at least earn
something from the prize you took.’ Earl Thomas betrayed the ghost
of a smile when he saw the surprise on James’ face.

'Yes, sir archer! Something out of nothing!’ He
frowned. ‘Now listen! You will escort the squire Giles le Normand
back to Fecamp. Yes, you! And don’t look so fish-eyed. You captured
him. You return him. It’s very simple, and it’s a matter of
simple honour. Knightly code, and all that. Something I don’t
suppose you archer folk have much time for, but we do, and that’s
the way it is.’ He stabbed one finger at the map. ‘There’s
Fecamp. Just up the coast. Can’t miss it. Nice old town. Castle
too. Pity we burnt both down five or so years ago. Locals didn’t
take kindly to that at all, especially since Fecamp is the seat of
the dukes of Normandy. And strange to say the king of England has
been calling himself Duke of Normandy for the past couple of hundred
years.’

‘
My lord?’

‘
What! Ah, yes. Forgive me, sir archer. Forgot myself
there for just a moment. Wandering off talking about things you
couldn’t possibly understand. Is that so?’

‘
Yes sire.’

Earl Thomas looked relieved. Glancing at the map again,
he waved James across to the table. ‘See here? Fecamp. Right smack
on the coast. Beautiful position. Norman heartland. We’ve got it,
but we haven’t, if you understand me. The local lords put up with
us, but they certainly don’t support us. That’s why young Le
Normand was caught at Cap le Havre. He survived, most of the others
were killed or chased off. That doesn’t make us any friends around
here.’

‘
But returning him unharmed to his family, would,’
ventured James.

‘
Aha!’ cried the Earl beaming. ‘That’s
precisely so! You
are
the man Captain William said you might be!’ He smacked his fist
into his open palm. ‘And you will of course undertake to be this
young squire’s escort.’

James bowed. ‘It seems to me, sire that I have little
choice.’

‘
Choice? Well, no I don’t suppose you do. Not in the
practical order of things. But I do, as your lord, prefer it if you
do it willingly.’

With a short intake of breath, and another inclination
of the head, James brought his hand across his chest: ‘My lord, it
shall be willingly done.’

‘
Bravo! And I shall make sure you are rewarded
handsomely – when the job is complete, to my satisfaction and that
of the duke of Fecamp.’ He poured himself a cup of wine, but was
careful not to offer any to James. ‘Six pennies is the daily rate,
high days and holy days included. Report to my Receiver of Victuals
in the morning. You will be given a horse and supplies. The squire is
to be delivered into your care at the third hour. You will set off
for Fecamp immediately.’

Once dismissed, James headed for the doorway of the
tent. As he stooped to go through, he paused. ‘My Lord Thomas! A
boon.’

‘
If Dorset can provide it. Say on!’

‘
I have a friend, John Hert by name. At present he
lies ill in the care of the apothecary Simon of Harfleur. He took a
crossbow bolt at Le Cap. He is passed the worst but still poorly . .
.’

‘
Say no more! I will make sure my physician visits him
every day.’

'My lord, that is generous, but it is not what I ask. I
ask only that Simon be given instructions to continue to give him
care until my return.’

The Earl of Dorset looked carefully at James. ‘Done!’
he said, and raised his cup of wine.

When James returned to his lodgings, he found John
sitting up by the fire, with the apothecary’s daughters in close
attendance, and Duncan sitting on a barrel by the hearth polishing
his leather jerkin. Simon was busy in the shop, and his wife was away
at market. Ralf was still in bed. There was no sign of Hamish, though
Emma-Jeanne said he had gone to find his captain, and Marie was sure
he was in a tavern by the docks.

'Are ye well?’ asked James as he sat down beside John.

‘
Passing well’, replied John. ‘Thanks to all ye
folks.’

‘
And the good Lord.’

John nodded. ‘Aye, that’s right enough. I think I
got precious close to Him for a time.’

‘
Close to the grave, more like’, muttered Duncan.
‘When ye die ye sleep, when the Lord comes back ye rise.’

‘
Who taught ye that?’ asked James as he stirred the
fire with a stick.

‘
It’s in the Book, and me mam read it out to me.’
He grunted, and went back to his polishing.

John and James looked at one another and winked. ‘Well’,
said John, ‘Whatever be the truth of it, I know this, I’m feeling
a heap better than I did afore, and the wound is beginning to itch.’

‘
Ah bon! Ah bon!’ chorused Marie and Louise, and
they danced around the kitchen till one of them knocked over a stool,
and they sat down giggling.

‘
You’ve your work cut out to get back home safe and
sound with those lassies chasing ye,’ said James, and he grinned as
he put more wood on the fire and shifted the pot to cover the blaze.
‘But when you are healed I’ll come with ye on a boat myself.’

‘
To England, then? You’ve not taken the Earl’s
indenture?’

James shook his head. ‘No, I’m away home.’ He
stood up. ‘But first I have one more duty to my lord.’ He
explained. John listened but said nothing. He was tired, and his eyes
began to close. Sweat appeared on his forehead. Marie and Louise
fluttered about him, mopping his brow, tutting over herbs and
potions, and shoo-ing James away.

Early next morning, James took his leave. Most of the
household were still abed, but Emma-Jeanne was up, baking bread and
sweeping out the hearth. She wished him God-speed, and watched from
the doorstep as he made his way along the cobbled street towards the
main gate. It was still dark and cold, but a steel blue tinge in the
eastern sky promised a fine day.

When he reached the main gate at Montvilliers, the
footway was already open, with folk heading for the fields, and the
guards waved him through. Nor did he have any trouble with the dawn
pickets to the camp: they knew at once the easy gait and swagger of
an English archer, and called a greeting as he emerged out of the
shadows.

He found the provost’s tent down by the horse-lines,
and drew him grumbling from his bed. Two hours later he had a horse,
saddle quiver, fresh supplies, and a sheaf of war arrows from the
Earl’s own wagon. Satisfied, he took a warming breakfast while he
waited for the squire.

Yevan happened by, and stopped to hear and tell the
news. ‘Fecamp!’ he said. ‘That’s a fair step, and ye won’t
make it in a day. Go careful along those woodland paths, or you’ll
cop an arrow in the gizzard, boyo! Neat as tricks he is, the Frenchie
in the forest.’

James nodded. ‘I’ll take the coastal road whenever I
can. With the lad’s shield on my right, and the sea on my left, it
should be safe enough.’

For a time Yevan looked at him, then put his head to one
side: ‘I’ll come with ye,’ he said.