'Why, do you want one? I can, we can, go to the King and see him.'
Tuberville smiled, his face becoming almost boyish.
'Here,' he waved Corbett to one of the stools and crossed to a rather battered up-turned barrel bearing a tray of pewter cups and a flagon. He filled two with wine and crossed to rejoin Corbett. 'Look,' he said. 'I am sorry П was abrupt.'
Corbett took the wine. 'It was nothing,' he replied, 'Perhaps a sign of the times?' Tuberville shrugged, sat and sipped from the cup.
'Your questions, Master Corbett?'
'You were with the Earl of Brittany in last year's expedition to Gascony?'
'Yes,' Tuberville replied, 'We sailed, a fleet of ships from Southampton and landed at Bordeaux. Richmond assembled the column of march and we advanced inland to occupy the castle and town of La Reole. You may remember,' Tuberville continued bitterly, 'the damned French had already occupied a number of border fortresses and their troops were moving inland. Richmond just sat and waited: he did not try to draw the French into battle but stayed in the town.' Tuberville shrugged. 'It was inevitable. The French found the countryside deserted and their troops poured across the duchy.' Tuberville paused, staring into the cup. 'Richmond did not move, but froze like a frightened rabbit. The French encircled the town with ditches and traps to block the roads. War machines were brought up, I remember one huge bastard the French nicknamed "Le Loup du Guerre", "The Warwolf". These pounded the town with fire balls and huge rocks. We could not break out, the King was unable to send any relief so Richmond decided to surrender.'
'Was there no attempt at a sortie?' Corbett asked.
Tuberville pursed his lips. 'Yes,' he smiled 'I disobeyed orders. During the negotiations between Richmond and the French, I led a sortie, a phalanx of about sixty men-at-arms and mounted archers.'
'What happened?'
'We were driven back, the French were furious and so was Richmond. The Earl threatened me with a traitor's death for violating negotiations. I pointed out that the negotiations themselves were traitorous so Richmond ordered me to be put under arrest.' Tuberville got up and refilled his cup. Corbett watching him closely.
'What happened during the surrender?' he asked.
Tuberville stared at the wine he was swilling round his cup.
'The French, God damn them, insisted that we leave La Reole, and we did, our banners and pennants trailing in the mud, the French lined the roads and let us go with the mockery of horn, pipe and drumbeat.'
Corbett shifted in his seat. 'But you came back to a great honour, captain of the King's guard and responsible for protecting the King and his council?'
'Ah!' Tuberville smiled. 'When we returned to England, Edward read the results of the campaign and, ignoring Richmond's protests, gave me this post.'
Tuberville turned and looked through the narrow arrow-slit window. 'I must be going, I have to check the guard and ensure no threat exists to our sovereign lord.' Corbett caught the gentle sarcasm of the remark and smiled back. He liked the man, the typical professional soldier, hard, sardonic but strangely vulnerable.
'Oh,' Corbett asked, 'before you go, what terms did the French demand when they let you evacuate La Reole?'
'Hostages!' Corbett looked at the white fury in the knight's face.
'Hostages?' Tuberville nodded.
'Yes,' he explained, 'Richmond, myself and other officers had to agree to send to Paris members of our family as guarantors that, while the present troubles last, we will not fight in Gascony against the French King.'
'Whom did you send?'
'My two sons.' The reply was short, bitter and Corbett saw the hatred flare like a flame in Tuberville's eyes.
'And Richmond?'
'Oh, he sent his daughter.'
'You write to your sons?'
'Yes, letters are sent in Chancery pouches. Richmond does the same, a copy is kept in the Muniment Chamber.'
'Do you like Richmond?' Tuberville glared at Corbett. 'If I had my way,' he
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