tore after Sear, so Geoffrey had no choice but to support his friend. He was aware of Gwgan behind him, armed with a short stabbing sword.
Cursing under his breath – a wood was no place for mounted warriors, and the ambushers held all the advantages – Geoffrey plunged into the trees. He cursed even more when he became aware that the ground was thick with fallen leaves, hiding ruts and roots that were likely to see the horses stumble and their riders thrown. He began to howl his Saracen battle-cry, hoping that its strangeness would unsettle the attackers. The ploy worked, and several promptly turned and crashed through the undergrowth ahead in a bid to escape.
Unfortunately, rather more remained, and the continued hail of arrows indicated they were not about to give up. Geoffrey’s horse whinnied in pain as one scored a furrow across its chest; another glanced off his helmet. When he reached a section where the trees grew more thickly, hampering him further still, men poured out to do battle with him, hacking at his destrier and his legs in equal measure.
It was unlike the other attacks, when the action had been broken off relatively quickly. This time, there was a grim determination – desperation even – among the men who surged forward against him. But even without being able to manoeuvre, his horse gave him height, and he was devastating with his sword, slashing and chopping at anyone rash enough to come within his reach. His destrier, too, had been well trained and began to flail with its front hoofs at those who pressed around it.
Gradually, the ambushers began to fall back, although one continued a frenzy of blows. He howled furiously at his retreating comrades, and several returned to help him. Geoffrey launched another assault that scattered them, then concentrated on the man he was sure was the leader. He lunged with his sword, and when the man was off balance, followed it with a kick that took him in the chest. The fellow flew through the air and landed awkwardly, gasping for breath. Ignoring any knight’s cardinal rule – never to dismount in battle – Geoffrey leapt off his destrier and ran to press his sword against the man’s throat.
‘Who are you?’ he demanded. ‘Speak, and I will let you live.’
‘Go to hell,’ snarled the man, although Geoffrey could see fear in his eyes. He pressed down on the sword.
‘I will ask you once more. Who are you?’
‘I am-’
But the rest of his sentence was lost in a cry of agony as an arrow thumped into the man’s neck. Blood sprayed, and Geoffrey knew the fellow would not be revealing any deathbed secrets. He whipped around, scanning the trees, shield held in front of him. Had one of the man’s own comrades killed him to ensure he did not betray them? Or, he thought grimly, as a quarrel pounded into his shield, had they made a mistake and actually been aiming at him?
The fight had isolated him from his companions, although he could hear sounds of battle to his left. Keeping his shield raised, he ran towards it, unwilling to stay pinned down. He exploded into a clearing with another howl, and the sight of him caused several men to break from where they had been skirmishing with Roger and run for their lives.
Geoffrey’s horse had followed him, so he mounted it quickly and rode to his friend’s side. Roger was breathing hard and held his arm awkwardly.
‘Arrow,’ he muttered.
‘Go back to Hilde,’ ordered Geoffrey. ‘I will find the others.’
Roger wheeled around and was gone, leaving Geoffrey to penetrate farther into the woods. He was angry. It was foolish for experienced knights to let themselves be lured into such terrain, and he wondered what Sear, Alberic and Richard thought they were doing.
He found Sear first. One of the attackers lay dead at his horse’s feet, although he looked to have been shot, whereas Sear only carried a sword. It was curious, but there was no time for questions as more ambushers suddenly poured through the trees.
‘Back!’ yelled Sear. ‘Towards the road.’
He turned and thundered away, leaving Geoffrey with no choice but to follow: there were too many for him to tackle alone. Sear burst into another clearing, where Richard was heavily besieged. Most ran away when they saw reinforcements arrive.
They encountered Edward next, sword drawn and bloody, but his face pale. Gwgan materialized suddenly on foot, leading his horse. He was breathless but unhurt.
‘My horse bolted,’ he gasped. ‘I always considered him a steady beast, and he has never baulked at a battle before. I cannot imagine what-’
‘Back to the road,’ Geoffrey ordered urgently, wondering whether they had been enticed into the woods on purpose, so as to leave the cart unattended.
But he need not have worried. The cart was unscathed and so was Hilde. Roger was sitting on it as she and Leah tended his arm, although he had refused to relinquish either sword or shield while they did so. He relaxed his guard when Geoffrey appeared.
‘It is just a scratch,’ he said.
‘Where are Cornald, Pulchria and Delwyn?’ asked Geoffrey, dismounting and inspecting Roger’s wound.
‘Here,’ said Delwyn, arriving suddenly enough to make Geoffrey jump. ‘I told you: I tend to hide at the first sign of trouble. And thank God I did. That attack was the most vicious yet.’
‘It was,’ agreed Roger soberly. He glanced over Geoffrey’s shoulder. ‘And here comes our brave butterer. It does not look as though he dispatched many bolts after we rode into the forest, and God alone knows what Pulchria was doing.’
Geoffrey spoke in a low voice, so only Roger and Hilde could hear. ‘One of the attackers was about to tell me all, but he was shot before he could speak. It may have been an arrow intended for me, but, equally, one of our companions may have loosed it. Sear, Richard and Gwgan were all behaving oddly when I found them, and now Cornald and Pulchria…’
‘What about Edward?’ asked Roger. ‘What was he doing?’
‘He is the one man who cannot be behind these attacks,’ said Hilde. ‘He was wounded outside Brechene – if he had ordered these ambushes, he would have been safe from stray arrows.’
‘What about Delwyn?’ asked Roger. ‘He is sly enough to organize raids on his fellow travellers, and he is desperate to lay his hands on the Archbishop’s letter.’
‘I agree,’ said Hilde. ‘However, I do not trust any of them except Edward. And that includes Alberic, who is missing still. So is Bale.’
‘You had better go and find them,’ said Roger to Geoffrey. ‘We cannot leave until you do, and every moment here is another moment for those villains to regroup and come at us again.’
Aware that Gwgan, Richard and Sear were following, Geoffrey rode back into the trees. Roger had been right to fear another assault, because Geoffrey encountered a group of men who were massing for a second attempt almost immediately. He tore into them, wounding three with his first set of manoeuvres. He was surprised when they did not scatter, and was then hard-pressed to hold his own when they came at him en masse. He was aware of Gwgan at his back, although he had no idea what Richard and Sear were doing.
But none of the attackers was equal to his level of skill, and it was not long before his superior talents began to tell. One man dropped his weapon and ran, and then suddenly it was a rout. Another paused long enough to lob a dagger, which would have hit Gwgan, had Geoffrey not deflected it with his shield.
‘Thank you,’ gasped Gwgan. ‘It would have been a pity to die so close to home.’
As the knifeman had come very close to killing Gwgan, Geoffrey suspected the counsellor was innocent of hiring the men. He was glad. He liked Gwgan and had enjoyed his company. He was pleased Edward was exonerated from suspicion, too, and supposed that if the ambushers were under the command of one of their companions, the only remaining suspects were Sear, Alberic, Cornald and Pulchria. And Delwyn, of course, who had ensured he did not suffer injury by hiding.
Sear and Richard arrived at last, and the remaining attackers fled at the sight of them. A sudden crashing in the undergrowth behind them made Geoffrey whip around with his sword raised, but it was only Bale. Cornald appeared from another direction.
‘The villains have all escaped, sir,’ reported Bale apologetically. ‘I tried to question one, but he declined to answer, so I cut his throat.’
‘And he was definitely not talking after that,’ said Gwgan dryly. ‘I tried to get one to talk, too, but Cornald
