‘And I’m glad to be here, sire, and so are the men. Without this assignment, we would be patrolling the wilds of Wales, or chasing mad Irishmen across the Bogs of Allen.’
‘But now you’re chasing mad Gascons?’
‘Yes, but this is only the beginning; I think there will be better places than Wales and Ireland, and greater challenges than crazy Celts.’
Father Alun had joined us, unbeknownst to Godric.
‘Don’t be too unkind to the Celts; they have their faults, just like the English. And remember, the Normans think we’re all savages.’
‘Sorry, Father Alun, it’s just that I’ve probably seen the worst of them in battle.’
‘No need to apologize. There’s good and bad in all men – in fact, the Duke is a case in point. We need to find a way to bring out the best in him, without sacrificing his warrior spirit.’
He was right. But my job was to help the Duke enhance his ability as a soldier; improving his moral virtue was Father Alun’s realm.
‘Do you have a plan, Father?’
‘Perhaps the beginning of one.’
He glanced towards the industrious young firebrand, and I saw an appraising look flash across his face.
‘Are you going to tell us?’
‘No, not yet; I have to send a messenger, and call in a couple of favours.’
He then walked away with a mischievous grin on his face. As usual, Father Alun had given half an answer to a question, but had posed many more.
As dusk fell, Dax’s ordeal by fire resumed. The Duke ordered two murderous incendiary attacks before retiring for the night. Oblivious to the screams and mayhem within the city, he rode back to his tent with the air of a man who had had a successful day’s hunting. As he passed, he called out to me.
‘Sir Ranulf, join me for some food and wine.’
The Duke was wont to relax with a host of young women, and was much inclined to enjoy to excess his food and wine. His invitation was not a test like scaling the walls of Dax. It was, nevertheless, another step along the path of acceptance. And so, despite my misgivings at the prospect of matching his prodigious appetites, I had little choice but to agree.
‘Thank you, sire; I would be honoured to join you.’
The evening was hardly a chore. All five of Duke Richard’s lieutenants were there and at least a dozen young girls, several of whom I had not seen before. After the food was cleared away, the Duke’s chosen concubine set the tone for the rest of the night by removing her chemise.
Mercadier was too drunk to be interested in girls and staggered off into the night. Blondel seemed content to woo rather than bed his girls and sang the chansons of the troubadours to two who sprawled at his feet. Baldwin of Bethune and Robert Thornham, too exhausted from the exertions of the day to tarry further with nocturnal toils, dragged themselves to their beds, which left me with a more than acceptable bevy of concubines to choose from. When it came to it, the choice was easy. She had been staring at me all evening and I at her. I was at the bottom of the pecking order among the Duke’s guests, so I had been praying that none of the others would take a shine to her.
Her name was Negu, which meant ‘winter’. Although she was dark of skin, with eyes as black as pitch, there was nothing else wintry about her. She was vivacious, with a fine sense of humour, and could certainly bring the fecundity of spring to my demeanour and fill my heart with the warmth of summer.
We found a discreet corner of the Duke’s tent and I enjoyed a night of passion as intense as any I had experienced before. She said she was seventeen years old and that only a few of the boys in her village had bedded her, but I suspected that she was older and had been the plaything of the well-to-do of Dax for some time. I cared not at all; she was beautiful, I had drunk my fill, and she responded to my most robust endeavours in equal measure. The cock was crowing when my cock wanted to sleep, but she was still eager for more and would not let me rest until I had satisfied her one last time.
When the Duke’s stewards arrived with breakfast, I can only have had a few minutes’ sleep and then had to face the communal mockery as, one by one, the Duke’s men gathered to eat.
Duke Richard led the assault.
‘Well, Ranulf, we didn’t need the cockerel this morning, the shrieks of your girl as you tupped her were enough to wake the dead!’
Then Baldwin of Bethune chimed in.
‘Was somebody keeping count? He was at it all night!’
The consensus was that I had won my pennon in the bedchamber. It was the third ordeal I had had to face since meeting Earl Harold at Wolvesey, but this one had been an ordeal by delight.
I sluiced my head with a pail of water, gave Negu a piece of silver and asked her to come to my tent at the end of the day; I had had my fill of communal fornicating. She seemed delighted – an emotion that may have been contrived, but I hoped it was genuine. I then had to face Godric and the men, who were equally scathing about my public trial in the arts of lovemaking. The most erudite jibe came from Godric.
‘We heard that you unhorsed her with just one blow from your lance, then ran her through with your sword, not once, but several times, just to make sure you’d finished her off!’
Three days later, the Duke heard the dramatic news from Dax just before he was preparing to leave his tent to begin another onslaught on the city.
A breathless messenger appeared and proclaimed, starkly, ‘The Sergeant of the Watch says, “Come at once to the gates of Dax.” You will be very pleased, my Lord.’
When we reached the city walls, the Duke was indeed pleased. With their wives, ladies of the court and various senior knights cowering around them, the Viscount Dax and Count Bigorre were stripped to their underwear, bound hand and foot, and tied to the quayside, right outside the gates of the city.
The Duke immediately ordered that they be released. While they were being untied, the gates of Dax opened and two men marched purposefully across the bridge over the Adour. One was the captain of the garrison and the other was a civilian, one of the city’s most powerful burghers.
It was the burgher who addressed the Duke, not obsequiously, but in a matter-of-fact tone.
‘My Lord, I am Ademus, a son of Dax. We are humbly offering you these men, our lords, Pierre and Centulle, and throwing ourselves upon your mercy. We have suffered enough and know that resistance to your onslaught is futile. It is a grievous thing that we do, for our lord, Pierre, will never forgive us for what we do. But it is either his wrath, or yours; we choose his.’
The Duke was clearly impressed by the candour of Ademus of Dax. He jumped down from his horse and held out his gauntlet. Ademus immediately fell to his knees, grabbed the hand and kissed the Duke’s ring. The captain of the garrison repeated the obeisance.
Duke Richard pulled them both to their feet and embraced them. They were mortified; having been taught to lower their eyes in the presence of a viscount, to be embraced by a royal duke was unprecedented. I looked at Father Alun, who was standing close by; he had a knowing look on his face. I nodded at him, acknowledging the same admiration for young Richard’s bravura.
‘Men of Dax, you have acted wisely and with great courage. This has earned you my respect and the affection of the people of Dax.’
The Duke then grabbed Viscount Pierre and Count Centulle. He made them prostrate themselves before him.
‘You have nothing to fear from these two. With their families and lickspittles in tow, they will be sent to King Henry in Caen, where they will beg for forgiveness. If the King smiles on them, they may return, but only if they acknowledge that, through your actions this day, you have saved them from much greater humiliation by my hand. In the meantime, they will forfeit two-thirds of their treasuries to me. They will be allowed to keep half of the remainder to protect the future of their families, and the other half will be distributed to the good people of Dax.’
Ademus turned to the captain of the garrison with a beaming smile on his face.
‘Go and make an announcement in the city. I will escort Duke Richard and his men. There will be a celebration tonight. Open the wine cellars, and tell the women to prepare a feast.’
