Celia fidgeted. “I suppose you might as well know. When we went to the council with the archbishop, he offered a solution. If I would marry Father Renard and renounce Catharism, thereby solidifying the archbishop’s grip on my father and his lands, he would intercede with the King to restore our lands and title. When I refused, he declared us heretics, and ordered us to stand trial. Philippe arranged our escape. It is why Father Renard came after me.” She paused a moment, for the memory of Philippe brought her sadness.
“Marry a priest?” I asked. I had lived with monks all my life. Such a thought had never occurred to me.
Celia smiled and nodded. “Yes, he would leave the church and become a duke, of course remaining loyal to the archbishop.” I shrugged. This was all to complicated for me to think about. There were other much more important matters to attend to.
“Celia, what happened at the council, this siege, you are blameless. Philippe’s death is not your fault. He was a soldier who died doing his duty. But I am sorry for bringing Father Renard and Sir Hugh together, for I feel I’ve only made it worse.”
Celia seemed possessed of an unbreakable spirit. She considered my words a moment, then nodded. “So, Templar, what do you suggest we do now?”
“Is there any chance your father might return here soon?”
“There is no way to know. He is certainly in Paris by now, but it all depends on whether or even if Philip will give him an audience. He needed to pay a sizable sum of money for a ‘trial,’ and if Philip rules against him. .” Her words trailed off, and I could sense the worry she had for her father. I had heard the monks speak of this practice before. A noble could petition the King for a ruling on some matter, usually involving lands or titles, but was required to pay a hefty amount of money for the King’s or lord’s time. It was an easy way for monarchs to collect vast sums of wealth and pay for their armies.
It didn’t matter now, but I had hoped her father was somewhere nearby and could send aid. Something along the lines of a thousand mounted knights would certainly be welcome. My friends had chosen me to lead them. Foolish though they may have been, it was past time for me to act.
“There are more than five hundred men out there determined to have this fortress for a trophy. Gather your folk and tell them what is coming. Get every able-bodied man and adult woman on the battlements, even the young boys. If they are old enough to carry water or lift a pitchfork, we need them. Move the younger children inside the keep and have a few of the elders watch over them. Take Angel with you. She will help keep the children occupied. But do it quickly. And have everyone clear the bailey. We have no idea what they may throw at us.”
Celia hurried toward the keep while I climbed to the parapet again. As I feared, several long, straight logs were being pulled into sight. Crossbeams would be lashed to them, making them into scaling ladders. I tried to think like Sir Thomas would and considered our advantages. We held the high ground behind thick stone walls. The trail up to the castle from the tree line was steep, rocky and narrow. It would not be easy to mount a charge, and any assault could come from only one direction, as the fortress backed up to sheer rock walls. We were outnumbered and, more than likely, at a disadvantage with weapons. Sir Hugh would certainly construct a siege engine or two. It was unlikely they would be able to batter down the walls, but the psychological effect would take its toll. Unless we found a way to counter and lessen their advantage. Then an idea grew in my mind.
I kept focused on the men below, and Robard and Maryam rejoined me on the battlement. Robard held two small bundles of arrows.
“You wouldn’t believe their pitiful armory,” he said. He held up one of the bundles of arrows. “These arrows are for hunting, mostly fowl. They’ll not puncture chain mail for certain.” As he held them out, I could see they were much shorter than the arrows he used, without iron tips, just a sharpened pointed end. He indicated his own wallet. “I’m nearly out, less than two dozen left, and I have no supplies to make any more. Why don’t Franks like the longbow?” he complained.
“I don’t know, but what about other weapons? Crossbows?”
“Forty in good working order, and plenty of bolts,” he said.
“What about pikes?” I asked.
“No pikes. There are swords and a few throwing axes, but aside from the crossbows, it might as well be empty,” Robard mused.
“I don’t think they thought about fighting much,” Maryam said. “They probably kept enough weapons to keep attackers off the walls, then just waited them out, as Celia said.”
I had hoped there would be pikes at least. It could be difficult work turning back the scaling ladders without them.
“We’ll have to make do. Robard, get Jean-Luc to station the crossbows on the forward battlement. Maryam, fetch Martine and gather anything that can tip a ladder: rakes, hoes, pitchforks, whatever you can find. Then meet me back here. I have a plan,” I said.
Robard and Maryam exchanged a furtive glance, then burst out laughing.
“What’s so funny?” I demanded.
“The idea of you with a plan,” Maryam teased. “You never have a plan this early. You make everything up as you go along.”
“She’s got you there, squire,” Robard said, still chuckling.
“I most certainly do make plans! There’s always a plan. They are just occasionally somewhat
When I told them what I’d thought of, a big smile came to both their faces. They hurried off to their appointed tasks, and I left the battlement to find Celia. I’d need her help in gathering the supplies I required.
If it worked, Sir Hugh was in for a rather large surprise.
19
After one hour had passed, Sir Hugh and two knights rode to the gate under a white flag. Sir Hugh asked if we intended to yield. I replied that we did not. Without a word, he turned his horse, and the minute he reached his forward lines, they charged the fortress.
The scaling ladders were in the first wave. Robard had positioned the crossbowmen brilliantly. He broke them into two lines of twenty. The first line fired when the assailants were in range, then stepped back, replaced by the next line, who waited a few seconds and fired another volley while the first line reloaded their bows. It takes nearly a minute for even the most experienced soldier to cock and ready a crossbow, but by concentrating their fire on those carrying the ladders, he slowed their advance. Still, we were vastly outnumbered, and with only forty men shooting, our attackers would eventually gain a foothold on the walls.
Maryam, Celia and Martine led the rest of the villagers on the battlements. Martine and Celia held their swords now, and they ran about, tipping back scaling ladders and shouting encouragement here and there. Maryam wielded a pitchfork as deftly as if it were one of her daggers, pushing back ladder after ladder.
We managed to hold off the first wave, but our men tired, and the time between volleys from the crossbows became longer and longer. Robard kept encouraging them in his own special way.
“Come on, you bloody Franks!” he shouted. “Faster! Faster!” I made a mental note to remind Robard later how he might consider improving his motivational skills.
Robard methodically worked his way through the first bundle of small hunting arrows, shooting quickly but making each missile count. He moved like a dancer among the men at the walls, dodging and darting and seeking out the perfect position for every shot.
While all this happened, I stood below in the courtyard with my “plan,” as it were. It was simple, really. I’d constructed three miniature siege engines of my own. Two of Celia’s villagers who were handy with tools helped me peg them together from timbers we’d removed from the interior of the castle keep. They weren’t fancy, and not likely to be highly accurate, but I didn’t need accuracy, only power, for I intended to rain my own version of vengeance down on Sir Hugh.
Each siege engine was primarily a twelve-foot plank mounted on a triangular base and pulled backward by a rope attached to its end. As it bent backward, nearly to the breaking point, the rope was released and the plank shot upward. Each was capable of hurling an object placed on the end of it quite a distance. I had tested one off the back wall of the fortress, out of sight of our attackers, to get a sense of its power. I pried a sizable stone loose from
