cash.
‘I’m sure you did,’
‘A greedy fool,’ the abbot agreed eagerly. ‘His father was worse. The fief of Labrouillade once encompassed all the land from here to the sea, but his father gambled away most of the southern part. The son is more careful with his money. He’s rich, of course, very rich, but not a generous man.’ The abbot’s voice trailed away as he gazed at the piles of shoddy, misshapen and bent coins. ‘What will you do?’ he asked nervously.
‘Do?’
‘For lawyers, yes.’ The abbot, worried that he would be blamed for the substitution of the coins, could not hide his relief.
‘But not in the count’s own courts,’
‘It might be argued in the bishop’s court?’ the abbot suggested.
‘Of course, lord.’
‘And pay well for it,’
‘You may depend on my support,’ the abbot said.
A woman and child were approaching. Brother Michael had not noticed them till this moment, for they had been travelling with the other women who followed the Hellequin and who had waited outside Villon as the castle was assaulted. But the young monk noticed her now, noticed her and trembled. He had been haunted all day by the memory of Bertille, but this woman was just as beautiful, though it was a very different kind of beauty. Bertille had been dark, soft and gentle, while this woman was fair, hard and striking. She was tall, almost as tall as
‘My wife Genevieve,’
‘Brother Michael,’ the monk said, unable to take his eyes from Genevieve.
‘He brought me a message,’
‘Sir Thomas Hookton,’ Genevieve read the name written across the folded parchment.
‘I’m
‘They shall receive heaven’s assistance,’ the abbot said eagerly.
‘And this,’ Thomas added more money, ‘is for my wounded men. You will tend them and, for those who die, bury them and have masses said.’
‘Of course, lord.’
‘And I shall return to see they were properly treated.’
‘I shall anticipate your return with joy, sire,’ the abbot lied.
The Hellequin mounted and the bad coins were scooped into leather bags that were loaded onto packhorses as Thomas said his farewells to the men in the infirmary. Then, when the sun was still low in the east, they rode west. Brother Michael rode a borrowed horse alongside Sam who, despite his young face, was evidently one of the archers’ leaders. ‘Does
‘He hates lawyers,’ Sam said. ‘If he had his way he’d bury every last bloody lawyer in the deepest pit of hell and let the devil shit on them,’
‘Yet he uses them?’
‘Uses them?’ Sam laughed. ‘He told that to the abbot, didn’t he?’ He jerked his head eastwards. ‘Back there, brother, there’s a half-dozen men following us. They ain’t very clever, ’cos we spotted them, and by now they’ll be talking to the abbot. Then they’ll go back to their master and say they saw us go west and that his fat lordship is to expect a visit from a man of law. Only he won’t get that. He’s going to get these instead.’ He patted the goose feathers of the arrows in his bag. Some of those feathers were speckled with dried blood from the fight at Villon.
‘You mean we’re going to fight him?’ Brother Michael said, and did not notice that he had used the word ‘we’, any more than he had thought about why he was still with the Hellequin instead of walking on towards Montpellier.
‘Of course we’re bloody going to fight him,’ Sam said scornfully. ‘The bloody count cheated us, didn’t he? So we’ll cut south and east as soon as those dozy bastards have finished chatting with the abbot. ’Cos they won’t follow us to make sure we’ve gone west. They’re the sort of dozy bastards who don’t think beyond their next pot of ale, but Thomas does, Thomas is a two-pot thinker, he is.’
Thomas heard the compliment and twisted in his saddle. ‘Only two pots, Sam?’
‘As many pots as you like,’ Sam said.
‘It all depends,’ Thomas let Brother Michael catch up with him, ‘on whether the Count of Labrouillade stays in that castle we gave him. I suspect he won’t. He doesn’t feel safe there, and he’s a man who likes his comfort, so I reckon he’ll head south.’
‘And you’ll ride to meet him?’
‘Ride to ambush him,’ Thomas said. He glanced back at the sun to judge the time. ‘With God’s help, brother, we’ll bar his road this afternoon.’ He took the parchment from under his belt. ‘You didn’t read this?’
‘No!’ Brother Michael insisted, and spoke truly. He watched as
Michael blushed. ‘I …’ he began, but found he had nothing to say.
‘And besides,’ Thomas went on, ‘my wife is a heretic. She was excommunicated from the church and consigned to hell. As was I. Doesn’t that worry you?’
Brother Michael still had nothing to say.
‘And why are you still here?’ Thomas asked.
‘Here?’ The young monk was confused.
‘Aren’t you under orders?’
‘I am supposed to go to Montpellier,’ Brother Michael confessed.
‘It’s that way, brother,’ Thomas said, pointing south.
‘We’re going south,’ Genevieve said drily, ‘and I think Brother Michael would like our company.’
‘You would?’ Thomas asked.
‘I would be glad of it,’ Brother Michael said, and wondered why he had spoken so eagerly.