‘Then draw it.’
Fiebras told his colleagues to make a fire, then went to the river and pulled out a reed, which he split with a knife. He put the pieces in his cap and returned to the wolfman. Sindre was secured with a length of rope, bound tight around his arms and legs. Two of the biggest Frankish knights pinned him, one lying across his legs, the other across his chest.
‘Why are you doing all this?’ said Aelis.
‘I might have to reach down past the shaft of the arrow and crush the barbs on its head,’ said Fiebras. ‘He will not like it, though it’s the right time. The wound has a lot of pus.’
‘That’s a good thing?’ said Aelis.
‘Our doctors say so. The Arabs disagree.’
‘And you?’
‘I do what I can.’
Fiebras approached the wolfman. Aelis could see Sindre’s eyes were glazed and he was sweating heavily.
‘Hold him,’ said Fiebras.
He pushed one of the split reeds into the wound, wrapping it around the shaft of the arrow. The wolfman bucked but the men on top of him held him firm.
‘What are you doing?’
Fiebras displayed only mild irritation. This was, after all, the sister of his lord who was asking the questions.
‘I’m covering the arrowhead. If we can push aside the flesh it might come out. The reed stops the head from causing more damage.’ He gave a gentle tug at the shaft and Sindre twisted. ‘Keep him still,’ said Fiebras, ‘or it will be worse for him.’
He tried again. This time Aelis thought Sindre would lift off the ground and two more Franks knelt to hold him down.
‘Strong,’ said the fat one lying across his legs.
‘Have you no wine for him?’ said Leshii. ‘In my country we give men wine before such procedures.’
‘Wine is for Franks, not foreigners,’ said Fiebras. He gave another tug on the arrow and Sindre cried out. ‘No,’ he said. ‘It’s stuck.’ He withdrew the bloody reed and threw it to the ground. ‘Are you sure you want him to go through this, lady?’
‘If he can live, I want him to live.’
Fiebras picked up the pliers. They were long and at the tips splayed out like a duck’s bill. ‘My father bought these off an Arab twenty years before. They’re the best tools for the job. Malger, heat some oil.’
From a flask a stout Frank poured oil into a pan and put it into the fire they had made.
‘Now,’ said Fiebras, ‘hold him as firm as you can.’
The men bore down on Sindre as Fiebras worked the pliers into the wound. Sindre was delirious now. He was shouting in Norse, but his words were unintelligible even to Leshii.
Fiebras had the pliers about the arrowhead. Sindre fainted and the stout Frank got off his legs with, ‘Thank the Lord for that.’ The biggest man they had was a barrel of a country knight in a yellow tunic. He squeezed on the pliers as hard as he could. Fiebras called for the oil and took over again. As he worked the arrow free, the oil was poured into the wound.
Aelis could not watch this and turned away, offering a prayer of thanks that Sindre was unconscious. Finally he was bandaged and left to recover. She took him some water and used it to wet his lips. Her countrymen looked at her strangely but she did not care. She owed this man her life, she was sure.
Her euphoria at finding her own people receded and she began to think clearly. She remembered the wild- eyed boy in the peasant’s house raving about the bird that had been sent to bewitch him and suddenly felt afraid. Leshii came to sit beside her.
‘Not near the lady, old man, you understand?’ said Moselle.
‘Let him approach,’ said Aelis.
The knight shook his head and turned away. Aelis adjusted the scarf on her head, emphasising her modesty. She had to regain the esteem she had lost by allowing her hair to be cut.
‘You should tell them,’ he said, ‘about the ravens. These men are a danger to us if they become enchanted.’
‘My people are apt to blame the person who is pursued by such things as much as the pursuer,’ she said. ‘They might wonder what devils I had conjured to spark the interest of hell.’
She thought for a second. ‘It is heresy to believe in witchcraft, but there might be a way.’
She stood and approached Moselle, then drew him to one side. ‘Knight,’ she said, ‘I am about to entrust you with information that may seem incredible to you but is true. Can you keep a secret and relay it to your men in a way they will find palatable?’
‘I will try, lady.’
‘You may know that Father Jehan from Saint-Germain came to see Count Eudes just before I was attacked and fled.’
‘I do.’
‘The confessor had one of his visions…’
‘God blesses him with many insights.’
‘Indeed. Well, this is what was revealed to him. I am in grave danger of dying in a very unusual way. The birds of this country carry disease, and Confessor Jehan told me he had seen one peck at me in his vision and cause me to fall ill, die even.’
‘Yes.’ Moselle looked serious.
‘For this reason no bird can be allowed to approach our camp.’
‘No bird ever does, not unless it wants cooking.’
‘Exactly so. But the confessor has proved correct many times before. So, if you could alert your men to be on their guard against birds. It is necessary to set a watch in the night too.’
‘A bird will never come by night. I never heard of anyone getting attacked by an owl.’
‘Nevertheless, this is what I want, and as my brother’s sister what I command.’
Moselle shrugged. ‘As you wish, lady. It will be an easy thing. No bird will come near.’
‘Then the task should not trouble your men.’
Moselle gave his instructions without offering an explanation. However, the horsemen were not a military unit in the old Roman army style. Three or four — the ones Aelis recognised — were Eudes’ vassi dominici, or at least that was the title they would adopt if he became king. They were his vassals, members of powerful families, and not accustomed to obeying orders blindly. But war had taught them the value of recognising a leader, at least in the field, so Moselle received polite enquiries, rather than an interrogation. However, the more noble riders would not demean themselves by watching for birds and Leshii was given the job. Aelis had to argue strongly that it was important someone else kept watch at night too and the merchant could not do it all himself, and in the end it was agreed that the lesser knights would take it in turns.
The sun was already setting, so they made camp. To Aelis’s delight the Franks had tents with them, and she was given a whole one to herself. They carried no poles but cut them as required. She crept beneath the heavy hemp cloth, its musty smell reminding her of the garden at Loches where she and her cousins had slept the summer nights as children. Apart from privacy for Aelis, the tents also gave everyone some protection from the ravens. Only the sentries would be outside.
Sindre was a barbarian and lay beneath the stars. At least the night was dry and Aelis put a horse blanket over him. Leshii was not given shelter either, so would keep the fire going beside the wolfman. She also warned the merchant against taking the blanket.
Wrapped in the Viking king’s cloak Aelis sank to sleep and to dreaming. She was back at Loches and the girls around her were in a state of high excitement. The little tent they played in had something inside it. She stood by its side and listened. An erratic flutter. Something was trapped in the tent. What was making that noise? She knew! The sound, she realised, was the panicked beating of a bird’s wings.
