‘Who you be calling thieves? Those men had more honour in their little finger than you. Than this cur!’ the big burly outlaw sneered, kicking Balvoire, who was face-down on the ground.
The rest of the outlaws roared and jeered. ‘Avenge our friends!’ the outlaw cried, and others shouted out similar chants.
Le Renard stepped back onto the cart and slammed his foot hard against the side. ‘No!’ he bellowed. ‘We have never taken a life and we’re not going to start now—otherwise we’d be no better than them.’ He flicked his chin at Balvoire and looked at each of his men, who seemed to quieten with his words. ‘We have come for one thing and one thing only,’ Le Renard said, kicking the strongbox. ‘Now, Lord Hugh, I will ask you again to lay down your sword and submit. This is a battle you’ve lost.’
‘Never!’ Hugh cried, and he lunged forward and leapt onto the cart, catching Le Renard by surprise.
Hugh brought his blade up, swiping with his sword and meeting Le Renard’s with a defensive clang. The outlaw stepped back and jumped off the cart as he defended himself against Hugh’s onslaught.
They circled each other as though in a dance—a deadly dance—sparring as their blades criss-crossed each other in a clash. The rest of Hugh’s men and Le Renard’s men watched the fight unfold, the outlaws still holding the captive men in surrender.
Hugh, being the much taller, stronger and more experienced man, thrust forward in attack again and again as Le Renard lurched backwards in defence.
Hugh had to admit that Le Renard knew the art of swordplay, even though his knowledge was rudimentary and no more than a young squire’s. The outlaw had been trained—but by whom and in whose mesnie? He was good—particularly his agility and footwork, which were as quick as his namesake. Mayhap he was as cunning too. Certainly his reputation suggested that was the case.
‘Not bad... It seems you have a few hidden talents, Le Renard.’
But Hugh could see that the outlaw had broken out in sweat above the rim of his mask.
‘And that surprises you, my lord?’
‘You remind me of a few young squires I’ve trained in the past, nothing more,’ he said, ‘And, whilst this has been an entertaining diversion, I think it’s high time I brought matters to a close—don’t you?’
Before waiting for an answer Hugh lurched forward in a quick succession of moves before turning, wrong-footing his opponent and disarming him.
Le Renard looked at his sword on the ground in disbelief before snapping his head back to see Hugh’s sword pointing at him, the blade just a flicker away from his face.
Good—now I have you, Le Renard.
‘Very good, my lord,’ the outlaw said.
‘Indeed—now, tell your men to relinquish the strongbox, let go of my men and who knows...? Mayhap I will spare you.’
‘And do you think I believe you?’ Le Renard laughed softly as he took a few steps back.
‘My word is my honour.’
‘Mayhap, my lord...’ He stepped to one side and then jumped back onto the cart. ‘And then again, mayhap not.’
It was Hugh’s turn to be surprised and wrong-footed as the outlaw turned away, legs apart and hands on hips. Incredulous, Hugh lunged forth again, but this time the outlaw anticipated him and leapt off the cart, his movements quick and determined.
‘Come back and finish this! Come back and fight!’ Hugh bellowed.
But Le Renard had climbed the tree he had descended earlier, with the aid of his burly accomplice, who was laughing heartily.
‘Whilst this has been a...what did you call it? Oh, yes...“an entertaining diversion”, I think now I should bring “matters to a close”, don’t you?’ Le Renard mocked as he stood on the branch.
‘Get down at once and fight with me! Show me your mettle! Or are you a coward?’ Hugh barked.
‘Not I, my lord!’ He laughed. ‘As I said, the time for these games is over. Yield and submit.’
‘Never!’
‘Very well, have it your way... Now, Anselm!’
The big man swung his axe to the ground, cutting through a rope hidden under leaves, which in turn released a heavy leather and rope net from above. This fell over Hugh, making him cower to the ground. And then Le Renard took arrow after arrow from his quiver, nocking each one with precision and then shooting, pinning the edge of the net, imprisoning Hugh beneath.
Le Renard tapped his head in mock salute. ‘My lord, it has been a pleasure. You’re as valiant as they say you are.’
‘I never bargained for trickery, Fox.’
Le Renard ignored him and addressed another of his accomplices. ‘Tie the rest of them together—except Balvoire. That one you strip and clothe in the infested hopsack.’ He swung round. ‘And then we best be gone, before their dissembling cortege suspects something.’
‘Wait!’ Hugh demanded from underneath his prison. ‘Before you go, I want to know why you didn’t kill me? You could have speared me with your arrows.’
Le Renard crossed his arms and contemplated his answer. ‘I told you—we’re not murderers. We do not choose to do what we do and we do not do it lightly, my lord.’ He raised himself to address all the captured men. ‘We have spared all of you—unlike our fallen friends, who were butchered like animals. Remember that!’
‘Fox, we’d better go,’ the burly outlaw said.
The outlaw smiled. ‘Until we meet again, Lord Hugh of Tallany.’
And just like a puff of smoke they disappeared as quickly as they’d appeared out of nowhere, taking with them the strongbox filled with the King’s silver.
‘And when we do you’ll not get away from me so easily, so help me God...’ Hugh made the oath to himself bitterly as he closed his eyes in humiliation.
Chapter Nine
Eleanor hesitated before stepping around the stretched linen screen in their chamber to see Hugh sitting in a wooden bathtub. He was covered in warm water infused with soap and cleansing herbs, his eyes impassive, his expression hard. And, despite the warmth
