of genuine Christianity, nodded his acceptance of Thomas's decision.
Jeanette had been following the conversation as best she could and had at least gathered the gist of their words. Are you discussing what to do to Sir Simon?' she asked Thomas.
I'm going to murder the bastard,“ Thomas said in French. She offered him a sour grimace. That is a very clever idea, Eng-lishman. So you will be a murderer and they will hang you. Then, thanks be to God, there will be two dead Englishmen.” What's she saying, Thomas?“ Father Hobbe asked. She's agreeing that I ought to forgive my enemies, father.” Good woman, good woman,' Father Hobbe said.
Do you really want to kill him?“ Jeanette demanded coldly. Thomas shuddered with the pain, but he was not so hurt that he could not appreciate Jeanette's closeness. She was a hard woman, he reckoned, but still as lovely as the spring and, like the rest of Will Skeat's men, he had harboured impossible dreams of knowing her better. Her question gave him that chance. I'll kill him,” he assured her, and in killing him, my lady, I'll fetch you your hus- band's armour and sword.“ Jeanette frowned at him. You can do that?”
If you help me.
She grimaced. How?'
So Thomas told her and, to his astonishment, she did not dismiss the idea in horror, but instead nodded a grudging acceptance. It might really work,“ she said after a while, it really might work.” Which meant that Sir Simon had united his enemies and Thomas had found himself an ally.
Jeanette's life was encompassed by enemies. She had her son, but everyone else she loved was dead, and those who were left she hated. There were the English, of course, occupying her town, but there was also Belas, the lawyer, and the shipmasters who had cheated her, and the tenants who used the presence of the English to default on their rent, and the town's merchants who dunned her for money she did not have. She was a countess, yet her rank counted for nothing. At night, brooding on her plight, she would dream of meeting a great champion, a duke perhaps, who would come to La Roche-Derrien and punish her enemies one by one. She saw them whimpering with terror, pleading for mercy and receiving none. But in each dawn there was no duke and her enemies did not cringe, and Jeanette's troubles were unrelieved until Thomas promised to help her kill the one enemy she hated above the rest.
To which end, early in the morning after her conversation with Thomas, Jeanette went to Richard Totesham's headquarters. She went early because she hoped Sir Simon Jekyll would still be in bed, and though it was essential he knew the purpose of her visit, she did not want to meet him. Let him learn from others what she planned.
The headquarters, like her own house, fronted the River Jaudy, and the waterfront yard, despite the early hour, already held a score of petitioners seeking favours from the English. Jeanette was told to wait with the other petitioners. I am the Countess of Armorica,' she told the clerk.
You must wait like the rest,' the clerk answered in poor French, then cut another notch in a tally stick on which he was counting arrow sheaves that were being unloaded from a lighter that had come upriver from the deepwater harbour at Treguler. A second lighter held barrels of red herrings, and the stench of the fish made Jeanette shudder. English food! They did not even gut the herrings before smoking them and the red fish came from the barrels covered in yellow-green mould, yet the archers ate them with relish. She tried to escape the reeking fish by crossing the yard to where a dozen local men trimmed great lengths of timber propped on saw-horses. One of the carpenters was a man who had sometimes worked for Jeanette's father, though he was usually too drunk to hold a job for more than a few days. He was barefoot, ragged, hump-backed and hare-lipped, though when he was sober he was as good a labourer as any in the town.
Jacques!“ Jeanette called. What are you doing?” She spoke in Breton.
Jacques tugged his forelock and bobbed down. You're looking well, my lady.“ Only a few folk could understand his speech for his split lip mangled the sounds. Your father always said you were his angel.”
I asked what you are doing.'
Ladders, my lady, ladders.' Jacques cuffed a stream of mucus from his nose. There was a weeping ulcer on his neck and the stink of it was as bad as the red herrings. They want six ever so long ladders.
Why?'
Jacques looked left and right to make sure no one could overhear him. What he says,“ he jerked his head at the Englishman who was supposedly supervising the work, what he says is that they're taking them to Lannion. And they're long enough for that big wall, ain't they?”
Lannion?'
He likes his ale, he does,“ Jacques said, explaining the English-man's indiscretion. Hey! Handsome!” the supervisor shouted at Jacques. Get to work!“ Jacques, with a grin to Jeanette, picked up his tools. Make the rungs loose!” Jeanette advised Jacques in Breton, then turned because her name had been called from the house. Sir Simon Jekyll, looking heavy-eyed and sleepy, was standing in the doorway and Jeanette's heart sank at the sight of him.
My lady,“ Sir Simon offered Jeanette a bow, you should not be waiting with common folk.”
Tell that to the clerk,' Jeanette said coldly.
The clerk tallying the arrow sheaves squealed when Sir Simon caught him by the ear. This clerk?“ he asked. He told me to wait out here.”
Sir Simon cuffed the man across the face. She's a lady, you bastard! You treat her like a lady.“ He kicked the man away, then pulled the door fully open. Come, my lady,” he invited her. Jeanette went to the door and was relieved to see four more clerks busy at tables inside the house. The army,“ Sir Simon said as she brushed past him, has almost as many clerks as archers. Clerks, farriers, masons, cooks, herdsmen, butchers, anything else on two legs that can take the King's coin.” He smiled at her, then brushed a hand down his threadbare wool robe that was trimmed with fur. If I had known you were gracing us with a visit, my lady, I would have dressed.'
Sir Simon, Jeanette noted gladly, was in a puppy mood this morn-ing. He was always either boorish or clumsily polite and she hated him in either mood, but at least he was easier to deal with when he tried to impress her with his manners. I came,“ she told him, to request a pass from Monsieur Totesham.” The clerks watched her surreptitiously, their quills scratching and spluttering on the scraped parchment.
I can give you a pass,“ Sir Simon said gallantly, though I trust you are not leaving La Roche-Derrien permanently?” I just wish to visit Louannec, Jeanette said.
And where, dear lady, is Louannec?'
It is on the coast,“ Jeanette said, north of Lannion.” Lannion, eh?“ He perched on a table's edge, his bare leg swinging. Can't have you wandering near Lannion. Not this week. Next, maybe, but only if you can persuade me that you have good reason to travel.” He smoothed his fair moustache. And I can be very persuadable.'
I wish to pray at the shrine there,“ Jeanette said. I would not keep you from your prayers,” Sir Simon said. He was thinking that he should have invited her through into the parlour, but in truth he had small appetite for love's games this morning. He had consoled himself for his failure to boil Thomas of Hookton's backside by drinking deep into the darkness, and his belly felt liquid, his throat was dry and his head was banging like a kettledrum. Which saint will have the pleasure of hearing your voice?' he asked.
The shrine is dedicated to Yves who protects the sick. My son has a fever.'
Poor boy,“ Sir Simon said in mock sympathy, then peremptorily ordered a clerk to write the pass for her ladyship. You will not travel alone, madame?” he asked.
I shall take servants.'
You would be better with soldiers. There are bandits everywhere.'
I do not fear my own countrymen, Sir Simon.
Then you should,“ he said tartly. How many servants?” Two.
Sir Simon told the clerk to note two companions on the pass, then looked back to Jeanette. You really would be much safer with soldiers as escort.'
God will preserve me,' Jeanette said.
Sir Simon watched as the ink on the pass was sanded dry and a blob of hot wax was dropped onto the parchment. He pressed a seal into the wax, then held the document to Jeanette. Maybe I should come with you, madame?'
I would rather not travel at all,' Jeanette said, refusing to take the pass.
Then I shall relinquish my duties to God,' Sir Simon said. Jeanette took the pass, forced herself to thank him, then fled. She half expected that Sir Simon would follow her, but he let her go unmolested. She felt dirty, but also triumphant because the trap was baited now. Well and truly baited.
