The Copper Sign (31 page)

“We always spent the night with the tradespeople, but with you we are our own little group. We need a tent, at least a small one, or it will be hard getting a good space at the tournament. We can’t sleep outdoors anymore because the nights are getting colder and damper. How much money do we have?” Jean asked.

He and Madeleine had a few silver coins, and Ellen looked in her belt purse and took out the same number of coins. She didn’t say anything about the money under her shirt. She’d take money from that only if it was absolutely necessary.

Jean held the coins tightly in his dirty hand.

“I’ll see what we can get for this. Wait here for me.” He ran across the clearing to where the merchants had stopped for the night, setting up their wagons and tents in a circle, as they did every evening, in order to protect themselves from wild animals and other possible attackers.

Ellen saw him talking with a man. They were too far away for her to understand what they were saying. Finally, the man shook his head and Jean moved along to the next wagon, disappearing with one of the men behind a canvas flap. Ellen waited impatiently until he appeared again, but it was a while before he got back.

“I got a tent, but I can’t carry it alone. It would be best if I took Nestor along,” he said, and led the pony away.

Ellen got more and more restless. This time it seemed to be taking forever. It was already dark, and Jean still wasn’t back. Once more Ellen was afraid that she had been cheated. Just as she was jumping up for the tenth time to have a look, Jean returned, Nestor trotting along docilely behind him carrying a heavy load. The whole time, Madeleine had been sitting calmly on a tree stump, singing softly and petting the dog. She clearly hadn’t doubted for a moment that Jean would return. At the sound of his voice she looked up and smiled.

“A tent, a cooking pot, and two old blankets!” The boy beamed proudly. “The tent has a long tear in it, but I also got some needle and thread and can sew it together again. I got the blankets from Agnes. She’s very sorry about your foot,” he told Madeleine, and then turned to Ellen. “Agnes is not a bad person, you know, she’s only afraid her husband might abandon her.”

Ellen was astonished at how much the boy had gotten for the money. “If I ever have to buy something,” she laughed admiringly, “I’ll take you along as a negotiator and get a lot more for my money.”

Their dinner that night consisted of a trout and a lamprey that Ellen had caught in a nearby brook just as night was falling, and later they sat for a while by the fire.

“The fish was delicious,” said Jean, contentedly wiping his mouth with his sleeve. Then he took the thread he had bought and threaded it through the eye of the needle. He skillfully sewed up the big rip in the canvas and also repaired the eyelets used to fasten the tent to the ground. “But the tent pegs aren’t much good anymore.”

Ellen looked at the iron pegs. They were rusted and probably wouldn’t last much longer.

“Some of that iron is still usable, but not much. As soon as I have a job and access to a forge and anvil, I’ll buy some more iron and make new ones for us.”

Madeleine interrupted their conversation. “He still needs a name,” she said, pointing to the puppy rolled up at Ellen’s feet. He had gotten the innards of both fish to eat and was apparently content with his lot.

“How about ‘Vagabond’? After all, he is one,” Jean suggested.

Ellen grimaced. “I don’t really like it, we have to find something a little friendlier—after all, we are all vagabonds, because we’re just passing through here. Surely we can think of something else, can’t we, Greybeard?” she said, tugging at his hairy chaps.

“That’s it!” Madeleine beamed.

Ellen looked at her questioningly. “What?”

“Greybeard, that’s what you just called him!”

“Did I?” Ellen looked surprised. “So then why not?”

“Greybeard, the name really suits you!” Jean’s voice suddenly sounded very gentle, and he petted the dog for the first time.

Shortly before noon the next day they reached the site of the tournament. Ellen was amazed at all the people crowding around looking for the best spots.

Jean looked around calmly, however, and finally pointed to a small strip of grass between two imposing tents.

“Look over there! There’s just enough room for us, but not enough for anyone else. And it’s a good spot!”

The owners of the two large tents would probably not care especially to have the dirty, ripped tent between their handsome, colorful abodes, but they couldn’t do anything about it, as according to tournament law anyone could occupy any free space.

Ellen and Madeleine set up the tent while Jean went around making inquiries. When he came back in the evening, the two women had done a good job. The tent was set up and put in order, and a fragrant stew of peas and grain was simmering on the hearth.

“Where did you get that?” Jean asked harshly. Madeleine glanced at Ellen as if to say:
You see, didn’t I tell you? He’ll be offended.

Ellen didn’t seem concerned. “Didn’t you tell me it would be best to buy something to eat as soon as possible, before the farmers noticed how much money they can make from the tournament visitors? So I thought I would just do it. After all, you didn’t have enough money with you for that.”

“That’s right,” Jean grumbled, a little kindlier. In any case, Ellen had followed his advice.

“Just look: we have a whole bag of peas, two pounds of wheat, a small bag of onions, a good side of bacon, and…” Madeleine positively beamed.

“And a dozen eggs! We have enough provisions for the whole week and won’t have to buy things at one of the food stands,” Ellen added. She tried to sound as modest as possible, though she was almost bursting with pride.

“No doubt the farmer took advantage of you. Where did you get all that money?”

“I still had half a shilling, and the rest I earned.”

“In half a day you made so much money that you could buy all of this? You must have struck a good bargain—I couldn’t have done any better myself!” Jean was genuinely astonished. “What sort of work did you do to make so much money?”

“I shoed a few horses. It was a big estate, not just a simple farm. They had their own blacksmith shop there, but the farrier was sick and his wife who ordinarily helps out had to care for him. A few of their horses urgently needed new horseshoes. I didn’t even know if I could do that, but one of the older stable hands helped me.”

“Well, if the stew tastes as good as it smells, it’s certainly all right by me, and I won’t mind eating it for a week,” Jean said in a conciliatory tone, and laughed when his stomach grumbled loudly. “I met Henry, by the way,” he said to Madeleine after the meal.

She smiled with delight and began to sing and dance.

“Sit down again,” Jean said softly, and took her back to her seat. “They call him Henry le Norrois, and he’s a knight errant,” he explained to Ellen. “And he’s the nicest herald I know. He’s better than anyone else at composing songs in honor of knights and in this way driving up their prices. I have told him about you. He is a smart man and knows people and their vanities, and he gave me a wonderful idea.”

“What sort of idea?” Ellen asked skeptically.

“You’ll find out soon enough.” Jean grinned roguishly and rolled himself up in his blanket. “It would be better for us to sleep now, as tomorrow will be a long day. After all, we have to find work for you.” Then he rolled over, turning his back to her.

“And you? Aren’t you going to look for work, too?” Ellen asked angrily. It annoyed her that he didn’t want to say anything about his plan.

“I’ve already found something,” he said, yawning. “One of the bakers needs an assistant, and he’s offering a penny and a fresh loaf of bread every day.”

“And you’re telling us that so casually?” Ellen sat up. “That’s wonderful!”

Jean grinned contentedly and shortly afterward drifted off to sleep.

Ellen thought for a while about how she could convince the smiths the next day, then drifted off to sleep as well. She dreamed of a test she might be given by a smith involving a hammer that she couldn’t even lift with one hand. Again and again she tried to lift it, but couldn’t. The next morning when she woke up her right arm felt numb—she must have lain on it all night.

Ellen left with Jean and headed for the area where the smiths had settled. Almost all the stalls were already set up, and a few tradespeople had started working. The ground was soft from the rain of the last few days, and the cold, damp mud clung to Ellen’s thin leather soles.
I should have bought myself a pair of pattens
, she was thinking. The wooden soles you could strap on the shoes made it harder to walk but protected the leather soles from water.

“Henry!” Jean called out, waving excitedly. Then he ran off.

Ellen had no choice but to follow.

“Henry, this is Ellenweore—I’ve told you about her,” he said as he introduced her.

Henry’s clothing was worn and had surely seen better days. His dark blond, wavy hair reached down almost to his shoulders. He bowed courteously and smiled at Ellen disarmingly through a row of beautiful teeth. “You didn’t tell me that the woman who can subdue iron and impose her will on men is so beautiful!” he said, without looking at Jean.

It was impossible to resist his smile. “I heard your words are worth more than gold to the knights!” Ellen replied courteously, and immediately won Henry’s heart with her flattering words.

“Have you ever been to a tournament?” he inquired, casually placing Ellen’s arm over his own to lead her around.

Ellen shook her head.

“Well, the first thing you must see are the jousts, or the
joutes plaisantes
. Have you ever heard of them?”

“Jean never stops talking about them, but I have no idea what they really are.” Ellen felt comfortable in Henry’s company. His humble appearance and cheerful, open manner almost made her forget he was a knight.
He probably is a late-born son, like William
, she thought.

“Watch out!” Jean shouted, and pulled Ellen back. She just missed being trampled by a horse racing by.

“From now on you should spend more time looking where you are going and less looking into Henry’s eyes,” Jean admonished her. “The first round was just announced!” He pointed in the direction the horse was headed.

Ellen craned her neck but couldn’t see anything but a crowd of people.

“Let’s get closer, and this time I’ll pay better attention,” Henry promised, pulling Ellen along with him.

They found a place in the front row and looked out on a large field where wooden barriers had been set up. Young knights raced toward each other, their lances pointed toward their opponent. The earth shook from the thundering hoofbeats of the horses, and the sound of the splintering lances was ear shattering.

“That’s fantastic! How can they survive something like that?” Ellen called to Henry over the noise.

He shook his head and laughed. “You find this fantastic? This is just a friendly preliminary skirmish!” Even though he was standing right next to her, he had to shout to be heard over the commotion.

“What do you mean by that?” Ellen asked in astonishment when the noise stopped for a moment.

“The tournament itself doesn’t begin for quite a while,” Henry explained. “It’s just the young ones for now. They want to show what they can do, and the older knights don’t come until later. The contestants then break up into groups according to where they come from, or which lord they are fighting for. Often a number of other knights join together as a loose grouping just for a single tournament. They start galloping towards each other in a close formation until their enthusiasm for battle overcomes their tight order. Only when the fighting gets really serious do the well-known knights, the most experienced fighters, and the bravest warriors join in. Each one hopes to gain fame and fortune, and none of them wants to miss the chance to win. They fight until nightfall, and many are captured and have to buy their freedom. Those who have no money have to appeal to friends in order to borrow what they need.”

Ellen was listening to Henry but was also trying to hear the names of the contestants who were just being called up.

“Next, Sir Ralph de Cornhill will do battle with…”

The second name Ellen could not understand because the crowd was howling and clapping so loudly.

“Sir Ralph is unbeaten in numerous tournaments—no one can unseat him. They say he sits there like he’s taken root in the saddle, but I think it’s because he’s so fat.” Henry winked at Ellen.

The two opponents charged at each other, and the young challenger hit Sir Ralph right in the middle of the chest, throwing him out of the saddle.

The crowd roared.

Henry shook his head excitedly. “If the young fellow keeps fighting like that, he can really become somebody.”

One heart-stopping duel followed the other.

“I had no idea a tournament is so thrilling!” Ellen shouted to Jean and Henry, her cheeks aglow.

Henry shook his head and laughed. “But Ellen, didn’t I tell you that this isn’t anything yet? Things don’t really get going until the main tournament starts. Unfortunately, you won’t be able see too much of it because it takes place back in the forest. They even resettled the residents of a small hamlet so their houses and corrals can be used by the knights as hideouts to take a rest or lie in wait for their opponents. It would actually be too dangerous for the people to stay in their houses. Do you see them back there? They’ll be scared to death until the tournament is over and hope their houses are not completely destroyed in the heat of the battle. It happens from time to time that their cabins are set on fire. In any case, their gardens are trampled underfoot by the horses, that much is certain. As a spectator you should try to stay as far away as possible from the combatants. Once the knights are worked up into a frenzy, they don’t notice if anyone is standing in their way. The safest thing is to watch on a horse and at a safe distance. The tournaments are not intended for spectators, but for the knights themselves.”