Part 27 (1/2)
”You will fight him and you will win, will you not?”
”I shall do my very best, Princess. You have my word on it.”
”I require more than your word, my lord,” she said, and for a moment, the Wolf's composure was shaken on the memory of another similar challenge.
”What is it you require, Your Grace?” he asked warily.
The little princess raised a finger and beckoned the ma.s.sive, armoured knight to sink down onto his knee. Without a care for belts or buckles or moulded leather breastplates, she flung her arms around his neck and hugged until her cheeks flushed pink and her eyes filled with tears.
”This is what I require, my lord,” she insisted. ”Both now and later, after you have smote the Dragon from his lair. I- I is what I require, my lord,” she insisted. ”Both now and later, after you have smote the Dragon from his lair. I- I command command it.” it.”
The Wolf smiled and returned the hug. ”Then certainly, it shall be as you command, Your Grace. You have my most solemn pledge.”
25.
When the Black Wolf of Lincoln had set up camp at Thornfeld Abbey, he had done so with twenty of his best and most versatile men. Both Gil Golden and Robert the Welshman had joined later, along with a few local villagers who had no scruples about where they earned the coin needed to feed their starving and oppressed families. The bulk of Randwulf de la Seyne Sur Mer's men had embarked from Brittany under the capable leaders.h.i.+p of Sir Richard of Rouen, arriving in England more than two months after the Wolf had established himself in the forests of Lincoln. This second group numbered some eighty-five of the queen's trusted guard and, like their comrades who had adapted to their garb of lincoln green, would have followed their fearsome captain-the Scourge of Mirebeau-to the edge of the earth without question.
It had been Friar's suggestion to keep the two groups separate, and to have some of the original ”outlaws” enter the castle grounds by various means and measures designed to blend them in with the guests and inhabitants of Bloodmoor. The rest of the ”foresters” had been instructed to set up camp nearby and to alert those inside the castle should there be any sudden influx of either the sheriff's or the prince's men to the vicinity.
Alaric had also suggested his own disguise, the vestments and trappings acquired from the real Bishop Gautier, who was at that moment a guest in a nearby village. It was a risky business, shared by the six companions who had a.s.sumed the roles of clerics. Balancing out the danger, however, was the fact that he would be able to get close to Lady Servanne, and to remain close in the event of some unforeseen trouble arising.
Unfortunately it also meant he would be pressed upon to preside over morning ma.s.s for the visiting n.o.bles, and to remain prominently in attendance in the great hall until such time as the host chose to depart for the tournament grounds.
Thus, dressed in magnificent black and crimson robes, Alaric was accompanying the Dragon's party to the outer bailey even as the wooden cell door was being slammed and bolted shut behind the semiconscious Servanne de Briscourt. He was not concerned. He was, in fact, relieved to see she had been able to follow Lucien's instructions and persuade the Dragon to leave the main keep without her.
The rest of the Wolf's men were not so a.s.sured by what they were seeing. They all paused in what they were doing to stare in amazement at the black and gold crested knights of Lord Randwulf de la Seyne Sur Mer's guard who filed slowly out of the ma.s.sive castle gates. In their midst was a child with bright blonde hair and regally uptilted chin, but nowhere in the heavily armoured troop of men was there a sighting of a black silk hood.
”What do you suppose it means?” Sparrow asked Gil.
Gil shook her head, her eyes worriedly searching the four-abreast riders for Friar's face. She was still in her monk's robes, her vision tunneled and restricted by the shape of the hood, but she was fairly certain she had seen all of the knights' faces, and Alaric FitzAthelstan's was not among them.
Sparrow, perched on a cart loaded with straw, looked enough like a pixie in his garishly coloured jongleur's tunic to draw the eye of several of the grim-faced knights who rode past. His frowned question drew no answers; a great deal of smouldering anger and frustration, but no answers.
”Something has gone wrong,” he surmised sagely. ”Have the tents been struck?”
”Nay,” said Robert the Welshman, bending to dislodge a pebble from the sole of his shoe. He was pa.s.sing by the cart, not wanting to draw any more attention to the peculiar sight of a dwarfish imp and a monk standing together. ”Nay. I were just by the green and the tents are still in place. Pennants an' s.h.i.+elds as well, an' a squire scrubbin' at a bit o' armour. Summit's amiss, though. Ye can smell it in the air.”
He moved on, his mantle furling out from his brawny shoulders like the wake after a broad-beamed s.h.i.+p. He strolled casually into one of the small cramped laneways and peered over the heads of others who were vying for grilled bits of rabbit, fish, and mutton.
”Trust Lumbergut to think only of his belly at a time like this,” Sparrow muttered.
”If things have gone wrong, we will need Robert's strength,” Gil pointed out. ”We will all need our full strength and wits about us.”
Sparrow gazed past Gil's shoulder and winced at the rusted shriek of the chains beginning to lower the huge portcullis gates back into place behind the last of the departed knights. At a glance, there were at least a score of guards on the gates and towers, all of whom were visibly armed and prepared for trouble.
Sparrow squinted up at the sky, noting the sun was directly overhead. ”Aye, well, one of us had best find out what is amiss. amiss. And soon. Gil, you should not tarry here any longer. Root out Friar and see if his nose has sniffed a change in the wind. I shall tumble my way over to the tourney grounds and see what is what.” And soon. Gil, you should not tarry here any longer. Root out Friar and see if his nose has sniffed a change in the wind. I shall tumble my way over to the tourney grounds and see what is what.”
”What about us?” asked Mutter and Stutter in unison, poking their heads up from behind the cart.
”Gather as many of our men as you can lay a hand to and wean them on down to the common. Tell them to hold fast and watch for a signal.”
”We will be of little use without weapons,” Gil advised.
Sparrow nodded and patted the side of the cart. ”Tell Robert to move this as close to the field as he dares and to leave a man on guard. And we had best be quick about our business, for unless my ears and eyes are turned inward, those trumpets I hear are heralding the arrival of Prince Gloom at the lists.”
As the echo of the blaring fanfare drifted away on the sea breeze, Prince John and the Baron de Gournay took their seats in the spectators' bower. n.o.blemen and guests of honour-including the Bishop Gautier-filled the seats on either side of their host and the regent, their personal guards, squires, and servants crowded the limited s.p.a.ce behind them. Nicolaa de la Haye, a.s.suming her role as high sheriff, sat by the Dragon's side, conspicuously taking the seat allocated for the absent Servanne de Briscourt.
The morning's activities, which had included wrestling matches, archery contests, and demonstrations of skill with swords and quarterstaffs, had attracted only a smattering of interest from the ranking n.o.bles. These events were staged mainly for the entertainment of the castle inhabitants, whose fingers had snapped enthusiastically for each victor, and whose groans and hisses had followed the defeated off the field. As the morning progressed, the excitement and tension swelled proportionately, and as noon approached, the litters and carts began arriving with more and more jewelled and ornamented spectators. The Bower of Beauty teemed with a riot of multicoloured silks and wafting wimples. Targets and quintains were moved to the sides of the field and the wooden palisades brought forward to replace them front and centre.
The jousting matches were by far the most dangerous and t.i.tilating events and those who had deigned to forgo the morning activities in favour of extra sleep or extravagant preening, now eagerly craned their necks this way and that to catch glimpses of the preparations taking place at each end of the enclosure. Tables laden with food and ale for the guests were all but deserted as everyone hastened to find seats and points of vantage. The trumpets flared again, bringing a hush over the crowds as the first two challengers appeared in front of their pavilions.
”How many impartial eyes do you estimate?” the Wolf asked, adjusting the metal chausses on his thighs.
”Two hundred guests and n.o.bles at the least,” Sparrow replied. ”Perhaps twice as many retainers, servants, and folk from the castle village, although most of those have been herded higher on the bailey grounds, away from the field. It is the number of guards that worries me. Like bluebirds they are, perched everywhere. On the walls, roaming the crowds, stalking the pavilions. Robert says he smells trouble and I believe him.”
”Robert has a keen nose,” the Wolf remarked.
Sparrow plumped his hands on his hips and scowled his disapproval over ill-placed humour. He had found their leader in the least likely place he had antic.i.p.ated finding him: in his pavilion by the jousting fields. More alarming, he was alone, save for a handful of squires and groomsmen, none of whom Sparrow recognized.
”I expected someone to tell me you were dead,” he stated bluntly.
”My apologies for disobliging you.”
Sparrow's glittering black eyes narrowed. ”We watched the men leaving the castle. You could have told us you had changed plans.”
”The change was not at my request,” said the Wolf, meeting Sparrow's gaze for the first time. A shocking, indescribable fury flashed in the depths of the normally cool and steely gray orbs, and the sight of it made the breath catch in Sparrow's throat.
”What happened? What has gone wrong?”
The Wolf needed a moment to compose himself. In a half-snarl he related the morning's confrontations, first with Prince John, then with the Dragon Wardieu. ”I could not very well refuse his offer to release the Princess Eleanor,” he concluded harshly. ”Nor could I consider leaving myself until this matter is resolved between us.”
”Which he counted upon, of course.”
”Of course.”
”How did he discover your secret?” Sparrow asked darkly.
”Not the way you think,” the Wolf snapped. ”And not the way he would have me believe.”
”Forgive me, my lord, but are you so convinced of the chick-pea's loyalty?”
In lieu of answering, the Wolf crossed over to the door of the pavilion and s.n.a.t.c.hed the silk flap aside enough for a clear view of the sprawling tilting grounds. He scanned the seats in the main bower, easily identifying the Dragon and his maleficent consort, Nicolaa de la Haye. Seated on the other side of De Gournay was an inordinately subdued John Lackland, and to his left, the Bishop Gautier.
Friar's expression was placid enough, yet it was obvious to a familiar eye that he was beginning to notice oddities and incongruities around him. There were distinctly more guards present in the crowds and on the sides of the field than was usual. And where there should have been discreet placements of black and gold blazons, there were none.