Geoffrey laughed out.
“Nay, nay, your generals feel no love for her, sir! She is a very Amazon. Is it not so, Gilbert?”
“Ay, so I believe. I have not seen her, nor any of my men.”
“They say she is garbed in armour and fights at the head of her men.”
“Whether that be true or not, her men are wildcats,” Gilbert said ruefully. “I met them but once when a body marched out upon us by night. Thou wilt do well to have a care, Simon. The town is so strongly fortified that ’twould take thee months to batter down the walls. Provisions they seem to have in plenty.”
“By the gleam in Simon’s eyes, I know it to be a task after his heart’s desire,” Henry said quizzically.
Simon gave his short laugh.
“Ay, sir. I will hand you the keys of Belrémy.”
“And I will write a canzonet to music on it,” Alan said. “Save that our King be not with us, it will be another Agincourt.”
“What, dost thou go with Simon, my Poet?” Henry asked. “Who then will charm mine ears with song?”
Alan blushed, shaking back his curls.
“So please your Majesty, I must e’en stay by Simon lest he lose his heart to Margaret the Amazon,” he bowed.
“Nay, the woman Simon will wed must be some puling lass with a timid tongue,” Henry retorted. “It is always thus.”
“ ’Twould be to mate an eagle with a dove, sir,” Gilbert said. “Simon will return to you an enslaved creature, having prostrated himself at the Amazon’s proud feet.”
“Well, she is a fair maid, so I hear,” Henry said. “Dost thou covet her, Simon?”
“Nay, sire. Her lands rather. Alan shall charm her into submission.”
Henry laughed.
“Is that thy reason for taking my Poet from me?”
“What else, sir?” Simon answered, smiling. “A soldier he is not, nor a leader.”
“And what shall Geoffrey do?”
“Oh, there is work enough for Geoffrey,” said Simon tranquilly. “Whither do ye go, sir, when ye quit this town?”
Henry looked up at him gravely.
“Back to Falaise, my Soldier.”
Simon nodded.
“Ay, take that town, sir. It is worthy of the endeavour.”
“So if the King take Falaise, Simon shall take Belrémy,” Gilbert remarked. “Who shall say which task be the harder?”
“I shall say.” Alan had seated himself by the window, apart from them, but now he turned his head, smiling sweetly upon Sir Gilbert of Umfraville.
“Speak, Sage,” Henry invited.
Alan crossed his legs.
“Belrémy is the harder task, sire, saving your presence.”
Geoffrey frowned.
“Wherefore, Alan?”
“Because the Sire de Mauny rules Falaise, and the Lady Margaret rules Belrémy.”
Geoffrey shook his head.
“What dost thou mean?”
“Ay, propound me this riddle,” Henry said.
“ ’Tis very simple, sir. A man holds Falaise, and a woman, Belrémy. I would sooner fight a man than a woman.”
“This woman,” Gilbert corrected. “Alan is right. When a woman guards her own she is more dangerous than a man. Yet this lady knows not Simon.”
“And Simon knows not her,” Alan answered gently.
II
How He Encamped Before Belrémy
Midway through October in that year of grace, 1417, Simon appeared before the town of Belrémy, with an army of fifteen hundred strong, Geoffrey of Malvallet leading the van, John Holland, Earl of Huntingdon, the left wing, and himself the right, Alan of Montlice with him, acting Master of Simon’s Horse. Two squires came in Simon’s train, Cedric of Gountray and Edmund Marnet. In the rear, with the ordnance and provisions, were the surgeons, the priest, and one John Tarbury, with his officers, as Master of Works.
Belrémy stood upon a slight incline, with its castle frowning down upon this force, and its grey walls sullen and forbidding.
“God’s my life! I like not this place!” murmured Alan, at Simon’s side.
Simon looked out from under his heavy brows, surveying the town, and Alan saw him smile. It was his tiger-snarl, and Montlice shivered a little, pitying Belrémy.
Simon turned, glancing along his halted army. He spoke over his shoulder to his squires.
“Fetch me John of Tarbury. Alan, bid Huntingdon march on to cover the western side. He knows.”
Within an hour the army was at work, under Simon’s direction. His men were set to build wooden huts, for Simon anticipated a prolonged siege, and winter was drawing on. Trenches were dug, and palisades erected for the protection of the army, and until these were finished, some ten days later, the camp was hard at work, both officers and men.
Simon sent a herald to the town, bidding them surrender, but the Lady Margaret returned a hot answer, that he should enter Belrémy over her dead body. Simon had no taste for heroics, and he received this answer indifferently.
And so he began his blockade, hearing occasionally some tidings from the King. He had learned the art of war under Henry, and he followed his precepts strictly, with the result that he lost no men, save by sickness, during all that weary siege. Nor did he once lose patience, although Geoffrey of Malvallet was nigh to weeping from boredom and inactivity.
“Simon, Simon, art thou grown timorous?” he cried one night, standing by Simon without his tent.
“Nay,” Simon answered placidly. “Nor am I of a sudden foolhardy, Geoffrey.”
Geoffrey jerked his shoulder in impatience.
“Shall we sit down before this town forever?” he demanded. “To what avail your bombardment? The walls of Belrémy seem made of granite! They laugh at thy guns! I tell thee, Simon, this is waste of time!”
Simon deigned no answer, nor looked at his half-brother.
“To what avail?” Geoffrey asked peevishly.
“So that I may weaken their fortifications, and, by hunger, weaken the soldiers.”
“And thy mine? Dost thou hope to enter the town under ground?”
“Maybe,” Simon answered.
“Were I in thy place I would storm it now in full force!” Geoffrey exclaimed.
A little smile flitted across Simon’s face.
“That I know. Yet I am wiser than thou.”
Geoffrey laughed at that, and slipped his arm in Simon’s.
“Ay, I know. How much longer, Coldheart?”
“Thou shalt feast at Christmas within those walls,” Simon said, pointing. “I pledge thee my word.”
“A month hence!”
“Nay, three weeks only. Fret not, Geoffrey. I do indeed know my strength.”
“Oh, I
