Read Online Knights of the Hawk by James Aitcheson - Free Book Online
Authors: James Aitcheson
Ads: Link
what happened when we tried to cross that first bridge, as I’m sure you must also recall, lord.’
‘I lost four men,’ put in another, before Robert could answer. A tall man, he had thick brows that in the dim light made shadows of his eyes. ‘The king has lost his wits if he thinks we’re going to risk our necks pursuing the same strategy again.’
I expected at least a murmur of protest, for no one ever besmirched the king’s name openly and in so light a manner, but there was none.
‘He is fixated on the idea of this bridge,’ Wace said. One of my oldest companions, he had a wise head upon his shoulders and was ever a source of shrewd advice, even if, as was often the case, he ended up being outspoken. ‘We would do better to attack by water from the north, where their defences are said to be weakest.’
‘The rebels have erected chains across the largest of the creeks surrounding the Isle,’ Robert replied. ‘And the smaller channels are too narrow and too shallow for anything but small punts and ferry-craft. It would take days to convey our entire army across that way, and in that time they would be able to throw up all manner of earthworks to obstruct us. Besides, think how many boats we’ll need for an army of four thousand men.’
‘Is that the king’s reasoning or your own?’ the ruddy-faced man asked, prompting laughter from a few of the other barons. Robert waited for it to subside before answering. More tolerant and mild-tempered than many men of noble birth I had known, it took a lot to stir him to anger.
‘It is the king’s reasoning, Guibert, but in this case I agree with him,’ Robert said.
‘You agree with the king?’ Guibert cried. He raised his cup aloft, sloshing ale over himself and the man sitting beside him. ‘This is indeed a rare occurrence!’
Robert stiffened. ‘I think you’ve had enough to drink for one night,’ he said as calmly and as evenly as possible, but there was no mistaking the warning in his tone.
‘No,’ Guibert said. He got to his feet, not entirely steadily. Even as he recovered his balance he managed to spill yet more contents of his vessel over his comrades, but he seemed deaf to their protests as he jabbed a finger in Robert’s direction. ‘No longer will I blindly obey our bastard king’s every whim. I’ve had enough of these foul marshes, of bedding down night after night on ground that might at any moment slip away into the bogs. I’ve had enough of—’
‘You forget your place,’ Robert said, raising his voice as he spoke over Guibert. ‘Now, be seated and keep your tongue inside your head, unless you want me to cut it out.’
The other barons were all calling for Guibert to sit down, but he wasn’t listening. ‘I will not be silenced,’ he shouted over the din. ‘Everyone here agrees with me, even if they are too afraid to say so. I speak for them as much as for myself.’
A hush fell. The high-pitched calls of waterbirds down by the river pierced the air; from further off the sound of a lyre floated on the breeze, and voices singing a bawdy tune that seemed familiar, although the words were different to the ones that I remembered.
‘Well?’ Robert asked, his face reddening now as he looked about. ‘Is this true? You haven’t yet spoken, Eudo. What do you have to say?’
Eudo shrugged, probably realising it made little difference what he said now. His feelings, like those of us all, had already been made plain. I had known him and Wace for many years, and he had always been the joker among the three of us, but the last few weeks had taken the edge off his humour, and his expression was sombre.
‘What the king has in mind is folly,’ Eudo said, after a moment’s hesitation. ‘We all think it. If another causeway is built and we try to attack across it as before, the outcome will be no different. Many of us will lose our lives, but what choice do we have, except to do as the king orders?’
A murmur of accord rose
‘I lost four men,’ put in another, before Robert could answer. A tall man, he had thick brows that in the dim light made shadows of his eyes. ‘The king has lost his wits if he thinks we’re going to risk our necks pursuing the same strategy again.’
I expected at least a murmur of protest, for no one ever besmirched the king’s name openly and in so light a manner, but there was none.
‘He is fixated on the idea of this bridge,’ Wace said. One of my oldest companions, he had a wise head upon his shoulders and was ever a source of shrewd advice, even if, as was often the case, he ended up being outspoken. ‘We would do better to attack by water from the north, where their defences are said to be weakest.’
‘The rebels have erected chains across the largest of the creeks surrounding the Isle,’ Robert replied. ‘And the smaller channels are too narrow and too shallow for anything but small punts and ferry-craft. It would take days to convey our entire army across that way, and in that time they would be able to throw up all manner of earthworks to obstruct us. Besides, think how many boats we’ll need for an army of four thousand men.’
‘Is that the king’s reasoning or your own?’ the ruddy-faced man asked, prompting laughter from a few of the other barons. Robert waited for it to subside before answering. More tolerant and mild-tempered than many men of noble birth I had known, it took a lot to stir him to anger.
‘It is the king’s reasoning, Guibert, but in this case I agree with him,’ Robert said.
‘You agree with the king?’ Guibert cried. He raised his cup aloft, sloshing ale over himself and the man sitting beside him. ‘This is indeed a rare occurrence!’
Robert stiffened. ‘I think you’ve had enough to drink for one night,’ he said as calmly and as evenly as possible, but there was no mistaking the warning in his tone.
‘No,’ Guibert said. He got to his feet, not entirely steadily. Even as he recovered his balance he managed to spill yet more contents of his vessel over his comrades, but he seemed deaf to their protests as he jabbed a finger in Robert’s direction. ‘No longer will I blindly obey our bastard king’s every whim. I’ve had enough of these foul marshes, of bedding down night after night on ground that might at any moment slip away into the bogs. I’ve had enough of—’
‘You forget your place,’ Robert said, raising his voice as he spoke over Guibert. ‘Now, be seated and keep your tongue inside your head, unless you want me to cut it out.’
The other barons were all calling for Guibert to sit down, but he wasn’t listening. ‘I will not be silenced,’ he shouted over the din. ‘Everyone here agrees with me, even if they are too afraid to say so. I speak for them as much as for myself.’
A hush fell. The high-pitched calls of waterbirds down by the river pierced the air; from further off the sound of a lyre floated on the breeze, and voices singing a bawdy tune that seemed familiar, although the words were different to the ones that I remembered.
‘Well?’ Robert asked, his face reddening now as he looked about. ‘Is this true? You haven’t yet spoken, Eudo. What do you have to say?’
Eudo shrugged, probably realising it made little difference what he said now. His feelings, like those of us all, had already been made plain. I had known him and Wace for many years, and he had always been the joker among the three of us, but the last few weeks had taken the edge off his humour, and his expression was sombre.
‘What the king has in mind is folly,’ Eudo said, after a moment’s hesitation. ‘We all think it. If another causeway is built and we try to attack across it as before, the outcome will be no different. Many of us will lose our lives, but what choice do we have, except to do as the king orders?’
A murmur of accord rose
Similar Books
