the rotted wood split like straw. The stakes made a terrible noise as they fell, but it was drowned by the uproar in the town. Jake, the cross-eyed murderer from Exeter gaol, pulled himself alongside Thomas. To their right now was a wooden quay with a rough ladder at one end. Dawn was coming and a feeble, thin, grey light was seeping from the east to outline the bridge across the Jaudy. It was a handsome stone bridge with a barbican at its further end, and Thomas feared the garrison of that tower might see them, but no one called an alarm and no crossbow bolts thumped across the river.
Thomas and Jake were first up the quay ladder, then came Sam, the youngest of Skeat's archers. The wooden landing stage served a timberyard and a dog began barking frantically among the stacked trunks, but Sam slipped into the blackness with his knife and the barking suddenly stopped. Good doggy,“ Sam said as he came back. String your bows,” Thomas said. He had looped the hemp cord onto his own black weapon and now untied the laces of his arrow bag
I hate bloody dogs,“ Sam said. One bit my mother when she was pregnant with me.”
That's why you're daft,' Jake said.
Shut your goddamn faces,“ Thomas ordered. More archers were climbing the quay, which was swaying alarmingly, but he could see that the walls he was supposed to capture were thick with defenders now. English arrows, their white goose feathers bright in the flamelight of the defenders” fires, flickered over the wall and thumped into the town's thatched roofs. Maybe we should open the south gate,' Thomas suggested.
Go through the town?' Jake asked in alarm.
It's a small town,' Thomas said.
You're mad,' Jake said, but he was grinning and he meant the words as a compliment.
I'm going anyway,' Thomas said. It would be dark in the streets and their long bows would be hidden. He reckoned it would be safe enough.
A dozen men followed Thomas while the rest started plundering the nearer buildings. More and more men were coming through the broken stakes now as Will Skeat sent them down the riverbank rather than wait for the wall to be captured. The defenders had seen the men in the mud and were shooting down from the end of the town wall, but the first attackers were already loose in the streets.
Thomas blundered through the town. It was pitch-black in the alleys and hard to tell where he was going, though by climbing the hill on which the town was built he reckoned he must eventually go over the summit and so down to the southern gate. Men ran past him, but no one could see that he and his companions were English. The church bells were deafening. Children were crying, dogs howling, gulls screaming, and the noise was making Thomas terrified. This was a daft idea, he thought. Maybe Sir Simon had already climbed the walls? Maybe he was wasting his time? Yet white-feathered arrows still thumped into the town roofs, suggesting the walls were untaken, and so he forced himself to keep
going. Twice he found himself in a blind alley and the second time, doubling back into a wider street, he almost ran into a priest who had come from his church to fix a flaming torch in a wall bracket. Go to the ramparts!' the priest said sternly, then saw the long bows in the men's hands and opened his mouth to shout the alarm. He never had time to shout for Thomas's bow stave slammed point-first into his belly. He bent over, gasping, and Jake casually slit his throat. The priest gurgled as he sank to the cobbles and Jake frowned when the noise stopped.
I'll go to hell for that,' he said.
You're going to hell anyway,“ Sam said, we all are.” We're all going to heaven,“ Thomas said, but not if we dawdle.” He suddenly felt much less frightened, as though the priest's death had taken his fear. An arrow struck the church tower and dropped into the alley as Thomas led his men past the church and found himself on La Roche- Derrien's main street, which dropped down to where a watch fire burned by the southern gate. Thomas shrank back into the alley beside the church, for the street was thick with men, but they were all running to the threatened side of the town, and when Thomas next looked the hill was empty. He could only see two sentinels on the ramparts above the gate arch. He told his men about the two sentries.
They're going to be scared as hell,“ he said. We kill the bastards and open the gate.”
There might be others,“ Sam said. There'll be a guard house.” Then kill them too,“ Thomas said. Now, come on!” They stepped into the street, ran down a few yards and there drew their bows. The arrows flew and the two guards on the arch fell. A man stepped out of the guard house built into the gate turret and gawped at the archers, but before any could draw their bows he stepped back inside and barred the door.
It's ours!' Thomas shouted, and led his men in a wild rush to the arch.
The guard house stayed locked so there was no one to stop the archers from lifting the bar and pushing open the two great gates. The Earl's men saw the gates open, saw the English archers outlined against the watch fire and gave a great roar from the darkness that told Thomas a torrent of vengeful troops was coming towards him. Which meant La Roche-Derrien's time of weeping could begin. For the English had taken the town.
Jeanette woke to a church bell ringing as though it was the world's doom when the dead were rising from their graves and the gates of hell were yawning wide for sinners. Her first instinct was to cross to her son's bed, but little Charles was safe. She could just see his eyes in the dark that was scarcely alleviated by the glowing embers of the fire.
Mama?' he cried, reaching up to her.
Quiet,' she hushed the boy, then ran to throw open the shutters. A faint grey light showed above the eastern roofs, then steps sounded in the street and she leaned from the window to see men running from their houses with swords, crossbows and spears. A trumpet was calling from the town centre, then more church bells began tolling the alarm into a dying night. The bell of the church of the Virgin was cracked and made a harsh, anvil-like noise that was all the more terrifying.
Madame!“ a servant cried as she ran into the room. The English must be attacking.” Jeanette forced herself to speak calmly. She was wearing nothing but a linen shift and was suddenly cold. She snatched up a cloak, tied it about her neck, then, took her son into her arms. You will be all right, Charles,“ she tried to console him. The English are attacking again, that is all.” Except she was not sure. The bells were sounding so wild. It was not the measured tolling that was the usual signal of attack, but a panicked clangour as though the men hauling the ropes were trying to repel an attack by their own efforts. She looked from the window again and saw the English arrows Hitting across the roofs. She could hear them thumping into the thatch. The children of the town thought it was a fine sport to retrieve the enemy arrows and two had injured themselves sliding from the roofs. Jeanette thought about getting dressed, but decided she must find out what was happening first so she gave Charles to the servant, then ran down-stairs. One of the kitchen servants met her at the back door. What's happening, madame?'
Another attack, that is all.'
She unbarred the door to the yard, then ran to the private entrance to Renan's church just as an arrow struck the church tower and clattered down into the yard. She pulled open the tower door, then groped up the steep ladders that her father had built. It had not been mere piety that had inspired Louis Halevy to construct the tower, but also the opportunity to look down-river to see if his boats were approaching, and the high stone parapet offered one of the best views in La Roche-Derrien. Jeanette was deafened by the church bell that swung in the gloom, each clapper stroke thumping her ears like a physical blow She climbed past the bell, pushed open the trapdoor at the top of the ladders and clambered onto the leads.
The English had come. She could see a torrent of men flowing about the river edge of the wall. They waded through the mud and swarmed over the broken stakes like a torrent of rats. Sweet Mother of Christ, she thought, sweet Mother of Christ, but they were in the town! She hurried down the ladders. They're here!“ she called to the priest who hauled the bell rope. They're in the town!” Havoc! Havoc!' the English shouted, the call that encouraged them to plunder.
Jeanette ran across the yard and up the stairs. She pulled her clothes from the cupboard, then turned when the voices shouted havoc beneath her window. She forgot her clothes and took Charles back into her arms. Mother of God,“ she prayed, look after us now, look after us. Sweet Mother of God, keep us safe.” She wept, not knowing what to do. Charles cried because she was holding him too tight and she tried to soothe him. Cheers sounded in the street and she ran back to the window and saw what looked like a dark river studded with steel flowing towards the town centre. She col-lapsed by the window, sobbing. Charles was screaming. Two more servants were in the room, somehow thinking that Jeanette could shelter them, but there was no shelter now. The English had come. One of the servants shot the bolt on the bedroom door, but what good would that do?
Jeanette thought of her husband's hidden weapons and of the Spanish sword's sharp edge, and wondered if
