The Copper Sign (33 page)

Ellen trembled a bit from all the excitement but declined his help. She didn’t want it to look as if she needed any support. She had won, but she was of two minds when thinking of what would happen the next day. Hopefully, Pierre was a good loser— after all, starting the next morning, she would be working for him. She said her farewells to Henry and the smith and set out with Jean on the way back to their tent. Wistfully, she thought of Jocelyn. She longed for his smile, his love, and his confidence in her abilities. After they had eaten, Jean told Madeleine about Ellen’s success.

“I’d better not go to bed too late,” Jean said. “I’ve got to get up in the middle of the night. The baker starts his work before sunrise, and he will send his son to pick me up. So don’t be startled when you wake up tomorrow and I’m not here.” He looked over at Madeleine. “How did everything go for you today? Did you find work?”

Madeleine nodded. “Agnes said I can fetch water for her again, and spin, as long as her husband isn’t around,” she added with some embarrassment.

“That’s wonderful!” Jean replied, patting her cheeks.

Ellen was moved by his concern for the poor girl. Things would be all right as long as he was around to care for her.

Although Pierre was highly regarded by the other smiths, they teased him all day about losing the bet and told him that now he’d have another woman to support. They grinned the next morning when Ellen arrived at the smithy but calmed down in the course of the day and soon didn’t pay much attention to her.

At the end of the week the strongman came to Ellen’s tent without being asked and delivered the money he had made. “Are you going to keep doing the rounds of the tournaments?” he asked.

“I believe so.”

“If you can’t find any work, you can challenge me again. We’ll let the knights make wagers and I’ll lose. Of course, it wouldn’t be great for my reputation and sooner or later I’d hate myself for it, but for a while we could make a lot of money that way,” he suggested.

“I’d rather earn my money in my trade, if possible.” Ellen tried not to sound too egotistical.

“As you will.” The strongman raised his hand to say goodbye, then added, “Just in case you change your mind…”

“I’ll know where to find you!” Ellen nodded and was relieved when he finally left. Even though she was able to defeat him in hammering, it was better not to have someone like that as an enemy.

Since autumn of the previous year, Ellen had been traveling about with Jean and Madeleine from one tournament to another. At first she was anxious about whether Pierre would give her work again, but after a while it could almost be taken for granted. Pierre never became a real friend, but the lighthearted Henry le Norrois did. Ellen could usually hear his throaty laughter from far off, as she did again this time. She tiptoed up behind him and was going to tap him on the shoulder and then quickly hide so when he turned around there wouldn’t be anyone there. But at the last moment she recognized the man standing next to him and froze. She was just turning around, her heart pounding, when Jean caught sight of her.

“Ellenweore! Henry!” he called and made his way through the crowd.

Henry turned around. “Jean!” he exclaimed, patting him on the shoulder. “Didn’t you call Ellenweore’s name, too? Where is she?” Henry looked around and finally saw her.

She stood there dumbfounded.

“Ellen, how are you?” he said.

At that moment his companion turned around, too.

Ellen felt the blood rushing to her face when their gazes met.

William looked at her, puzzled.

“Do we know each other?” William kept staring at her.

It was five years ago that he saw me for the last time, and he thought I was a boy then
, she told herself, shaking her head and trying to calm her raging feelings. “Excuse me, I must go back. Work, you know!” She curtsied politely and ran off.

“Heavens, William, you make quite an impression on the ladies!” Henry laughed. “I didn’t even have time to introduce you, and already she is running away from you.”

William watched her in astonishment.

Ellen hurried to Pierre’s shop. All day she thought of nothing but the meeting with William, and as much as she yearned to see him again, she was just as afraid he would recognize her. At the first sight of him her heart had started beating wildly, evoking a warm, tender feeling within her. Her mind was not on her work, and Pierre criticized her harshly. She thought about the arguments with Donovan and tried to pull herself together so that Pierre didn’t regret giving her the job. When she got home that evening, Jean was already in the tent preparing the supper, but Madeleine was not yet back.

“What was the matter with you this morning?”

“What do you mean?” Ellen tried as hard as she could to sound innocent.

“You turned red all over when you saw that man. Do you know him?”

Ellen wanted to deny it, but then she thought it would surely be better to have Jean as an ally, so she nodded.

“Oh, là, là!” Jean grinned from ear to ear. “You’re in love with him!” He waved his hands up and down. “
L’amour, l’amour, toujours l’amour!
We are all helpless when it comes to love.”

Ellen glared at him. “He knows me as Alan, the smith’s assistant, that’s the problem.”

“What? I don’t understand.” Jean looked at her with some irritation.

“I knew him when I lived in Tancarville, where he was a squire. I dressed at that time as a boy, and we were friends for years. I learned what I know about sword fighting from him. He must never find out that Alan and I are the same person—he would never forgive me for lying to him like that.”

“Do you have any idea who he is?”

“Sure. His name is William. What else should I know?”

“He is the tutor-in-arms of the Young King. Didn’t you know that?”

“Really!” She sounded astonished. But then she started to smile. “Actually, it doesn’t surprise me. He always said he wanted someday to be a king’s knight. But of course, I never thought he would do it so quickly. When someday the old king dies and his son ascends the throne as king of the whole empire, William will have accomplished everything he had hoped for.” Ellen sighed. “I am so far from realizing
my
dreams.” She sighed sadly.

Madeleine crawled into the tent without saying a word, sat down in a corner, and started to sing. She took a coin from her pocket and looked at it happily.

“Where did you get all that money?” Jean asked suspiciously, looking more closely at the coin.

“A knight gave it to me, a handsome knight. He wanted to know who she is.” Madeleine pointed at Ellen.

“And what did you say?” Ellen replied, seizing her by the shoulder and shaking her a little.

“That you are Ellenweore and my friend, that’s what I said. Nothing else.”

“And just for that he gave you all that money?”

“Yes!” Madeleine was beaming.

Jean and Ellen looked at each other.

“That can only have been William!”

“Don’t worry, Madeleine doesn’t know anything about what happened earlier,” Jean whispered to Ellen, trying to calm her down.

He had been at peace for almost nine months, and now once again he couldn’t get her out of his mind. Thibault hurried back to his tent, his heart in flames. The only person who could soothe his tormented soul was Rose. Thibault wiped his hand over his eyes as if somehow he might be able to wipe away the images that had been passing through his mind since that morning. The moment Ellen saw William, she’d blushed and looked more beautiful than ever. Thibault wheezed. That silly little goose who claimed to be her friend hadn’t told him anything he hadn’t already known for a long time in return for the silver coin he gave her. Nevertheless, he had treated her in a kindly way—after all, it could be very valuable having a spy in Ellen’s tent. An evil smirk passed over Thibault’s face.

“Rose?” He looked around the tent impatiently. Everything was neat and tidy, but nobody was there. “Rose!” he shouted loudly, but again nothing happened. When she finally came, Thibault was sitting sullenly in his chair. “Where were you?” he snarled at her.

“I bought myself a few pretty ribbons and a wonderful piece of cloth!” She ran over to him, sat down happily at his feet, and helped him out of his boots.

“Just so I would be beautiful for you!” She lowered her eyes coyly in hopes of mollifying him.

“I forbid you to leave the tent again without my permission!”

“But…” Rose started to protest.

“Do you insist on keeping the child this time, or shall we get rid of it again?” he asked in a threatening voice.

Rose looked down and shook her head. “If you wish, I’ll of course stay here.”

“I already like you better for that!” Thibault looked at her longingly, then stood up and took her to his bed. “Come, my little Rose, come and lie down by me.”

But ever since Rose was expecting, he found her less attractive, and after having been with her he still felt unsatisfied. “Go and get Margaret for me!” he ordered her, unmoved by the tears in her eyes. “Stop your blubbering and be happy I don’t send you and your bastard child to hell!” he shouted at her, stretching out on the fur bedcover. Rose knew, of course, what he intended to do with Margaret, and that was why it turned him on so much. Why should he be the only one to suffer? Could Rose’s grief in seeing him with another woman really be any worse than his own when he saw Ellen together with other men? The thought of Ellen excited him, and at that moment Margaret walked in. Rose had to think that his excitement came from Margaret coming to him. The young maiden was slender, almost emaciated, had a thin face, with eyes set close together, and narrow lips. Nothing about her would remind anyone of Ellen’s vibrant vitality except perhaps the color of her hair. Thibault reached up to touch her curly locks. They were longer and thinner than Ellen’s, but when he squinted he could sometimes imagine that he was holding Ellen in his arms. “Wait outside,” he gasped, and Rose left as fast as she could.

“Oh, Ellen!” he groaned into the ear of the skinny maiden.

“My name is Margaret!” she complained softly.

“Hold your tongue, and sit down on me,” Thibault commanded her roughly, squeezing her flat backside until it was red.

In the smithy, Ellen concentrated completely on her work and didn’t notice she was being watched. She tried not to think so much about William, though that was very hard for her. In the meantime, the tournament had begun, and according to everything Jean had found out about William, he was probably one of the first to rush into the tumult of battle. When Henry le Norrois came back to the smithy in the afternoon, Ellen hoped he would not mention her strange behavior toward William when they had met.

“I’m sure you must have a pair of tin sheers,” Henry grinned as a greeting. He was leading a helpless knight by the arm. His head was stuck in a battered and twisted helmet. The brave fellow had lost his bearings and was completely at Henry’s mercy.

“The first few blows he received on the metal didn’t bother him, but now the helmet is wedged on tight! He can hardly get any air, the poor fellow. Could you please get him out?”

Ellen giggled. How childish the knights were. They fought battles even in peacetime. “He won’t enjoy this very much,” she said and went to get the tongs and tin shears.

“It’s not his first time—it’s happened to him before. Nevertheless, be careful, he’s a promising warrior even though in his present condition he doesn’t look the part,” Henry said, winking at Ellen.

The man trapped inside the helmet grumbled discontentedly and directed metallic-sounding curses at Henry from under the helmet.

Ellen grinned and shook her head as she set about freeing the knight from his battered prison. She handed Henry a pair of tongs and asked him to help her in order not to injure the knight’s head. “But afterwards the helmet won’t be worth any more than the iron it’s made of,” she warned him as she set about her work.

Henry le Norrois couldn’t hold the tongs tight enough, and they slipped off several times.

“How annoying that Pierre isn’t here. You’re not really very much help to me. Now hold it tight!” she ordered, as she tugged and groaned and pulled on the helmet until the knight’s head came free. Ellen put aside the battered metal and asked the knight how he felt.

“Are you all right…?” was all she could say. Then she stopped, stunned at seeing who had been stuck inside the helmet.

“My ears are still ringing,” William answered without looking at her. When he finally looked up, his mouth fell open as well.

“You?” he asked incredulously.

“My lord!” Ellen bowed and looked down at her feet. It would no doubt be better if he couldn’t look at her face for very long.

William rubbed his head.

“I have to get back to work,” Ellen said hastily, turning away from him.

“What do I owe you?”

“Nothing. It was not a big problem, and besides, you are a friend of Henry. If you like, you can leave the helmet here.” It was impolite not to look him in the face, but Ellen kept her back turned toward him.

“Thank you very much.” William laid a silver coin on the table but made no move to leave.

Henry understood at once when William gave him a signal and left hastily.

Ellen tried not to let herself get distracted by William’s presence, but his gaze seemed to burn right through her like the noonday sun in July.

“Ah, now I remember!” he exclaimed suddenly.

Ellen cringed, and cold sweat trickled down her neck.

“I’ve been racking my brains all along trying to think who you remind me of.”

Ellen felt nauseous. She tried to deflect attention by taking the coin and tucking it into the purse on her belt.