Read Online To Defy a King by Elizabeth Chadwick - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Elizabeth Chadwick
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up the line towards them. Hugh suddenly grinned. 'Ralph,' he said.
His father rolled his eyes. 'I ought to have known.'
Hugh reined Hebon out of the column and cantered to meet his brother. The two horses met in a puff of dust and a near shoulder-clash, Ralph having to haul hard on the reins. Several enamelled pendants decorated his belt buckle, all displaying the blazons of French knights.
'You're still alive then,' Hugh said nonchalantly. He had last seen Ralph as the troops left La Rochelle. The lad had been reeling in the saddle, baggy-eyed with exhaustion, having spent most of the previous night polishing armour so that Longespee could ride in full splendour. However, he was certainly bright and exuberant now.
'Course I am. I can take care of myself.'
'And these?' Hugh indicated the pendants.
'They're from knights we've captured for ransom. My lord said I could wear them on my belt.'
'That's a good tally.'
Ralph nodded. 'I helped to capture this one and this one,' he said, proudly pointing. 'So did Will Marshal.' Turning in the saddle, he beckoned to another youth astride a grey gelding, who had been following in his wake.
'We pulled them down off their horses and my lord Longespee took their oaths of surrender.'
The youth bowed to Hugh, and then to Hugh's father. Will Marshal, heir to Pembroke, had recently turned sixteen years old. He was a handsome lad, more finely built than his illustrious sire, but no weakling. His body spoke of whipcord strength; his dark gaze was wary and watchful. He was supposed to be attached to King John's household, but during the Poitou campaign had been spending a lot of time delegated to Longespee's camp. The youth's father had sent troops to Poitou, but he was not here in person and the King had not permitted the young Marshal to fraternise with his father's men.
'So how is life in Longespee's retinue?' Hugh asked Ralph as they rode on towards Niort. 'Is he working you to the bone?'
Ralph cocked his head while he considered. 'He likes his harness and equipment polished until you can see your face in it,' he said. 'He gets upset if there's a speck of dirt. He expects his bed to be properly made even if we're camping in a field in the rain, but he's fair, and I like training with him. There's always something to do.'
Hugh exchanged a knowing look with his father. When he had had care of Ralph at Settrington there had always been things to do there, but matters of demesne rather than adventurous warfare. 'How are you finding a squire's life, Messire Marshal?' Hugh enquired of Will, who had been listening to Ralph without remark, but smiling slightly at the mention of Longespee's fastidiousness.
'I'm learning a great deal,' he said neutrally.
Ralph made a spluttering sound which he turned into a cough and blamed on the dust rising from the trail of horses and carts.
Earl Roger looked pointedly at his younger son. 'That is the entire point, is it not?' he said sternly. 'To learn?'
Later that night, safe inside the walls of Niort, feted as its liberators, the English army set up billets and camps. In the hall of the Donjon, Hugh sat at the fire with his father, Ralph, Will Marshal and Longespee. The latter was in an expansive mood following the day's successes and the consumption of two cups of good red wine relieved from a French supply wagon. A third measure rippled at the halfway mark in his goblet as he balanced it on his thigh and his cheeks were flushed with bonhomie. A scurrilous drinking song about Frenchmen and virgins was being sung in the round and he had relaxed enough to join in the chorus.
'Once Poitou is back in our hands, we can look to Anjou,' he announced, wafting his goblet. 'My brother will hold court in Angers before this campaign is finished, mark me. We have the French on the run.'
Men toasted the sentiment and cheered because it was good fighting talk and, after today, anything seemed possible. Tonight no one wanted to think that it
His father rolled his eyes. 'I ought to have known.'
Hugh reined Hebon out of the column and cantered to meet his brother. The two horses met in a puff of dust and a near shoulder-clash, Ralph having to haul hard on the reins. Several enamelled pendants decorated his belt buckle, all displaying the blazons of French knights.
'You're still alive then,' Hugh said nonchalantly. He had last seen Ralph as the troops left La Rochelle. The lad had been reeling in the saddle, baggy-eyed with exhaustion, having spent most of the previous night polishing armour so that Longespee could ride in full splendour. However, he was certainly bright and exuberant now.
'Course I am. I can take care of myself.'
'And these?' Hugh indicated the pendants.
'They're from knights we've captured for ransom. My lord said I could wear them on my belt.'
'That's a good tally.'
Ralph nodded. 'I helped to capture this one and this one,' he said, proudly pointing. 'So did Will Marshal.' Turning in the saddle, he beckoned to another youth astride a grey gelding, who had been following in his wake.
'We pulled them down off their horses and my lord Longespee took their oaths of surrender.'
The youth bowed to Hugh, and then to Hugh's father. Will Marshal, heir to Pembroke, had recently turned sixteen years old. He was a handsome lad, more finely built than his illustrious sire, but no weakling. His body spoke of whipcord strength; his dark gaze was wary and watchful. He was supposed to be attached to King John's household, but during the Poitou campaign had been spending a lot of time delegated to Longespee's camp. The youth's father had sent troops to Poitou, but he was not here in person and the King had not permitted the young Marshal to fraternise with his father's men.
'So how is life in Longespee's retinue?' Hugh asked Ralph as they rode on towards Niort. 'Is he working you to the bone?'
Ralph cocked his head while he considered. 'He likes his harness and equipment polished until you can see your face in it,' he said. 'He gets upset if there's a speck of dirt. He expects his bed to be properly made even if we're camping in a field in the rain, but he's fair, and I like training with him. There's always something to do.'
Hugh exchanged a knowing look with his father. When he had had care of Ralph at Settrington there had always been things to do there, but matters of demesne rather than adventurous warfare. 'How are you finding a squire's life, Messire Marshal?' Hugh enquired of Will, who had been listening to Ralph without remark, but smiling slightly at the mention of Longespee's fastidiousness.
'I'm learning a great deal,' he said neutrally.
Ralph made a spluttering sound which he turned into a cough and blamed on the dust rising from the trail of horses and carts.
Earl Roger looked pointedly at his younger son. 'That is the entire point, is it not?' he said sternly. 'To learn?'
Later that night, safe inside the walls of Niort, feted as its liberators, the English army set up billets and camps. In the hall of the Donjon, Hugh sat at the fire with his father, Ralph, Will Marshal and Longespee. The latter was in an expansive mood following the day's successes and the consumption of two cups of good red wine relieved from a French supply wagon. A third measure rippled at the halfway mark in his goblet as he balanced it on his thigh and his cheeks were flushed with bonhomie. A scurrilous drinking song about Frenchmen and virgins was being sung in the round and he had relaxed enough to join in the chorus.
'Once Poitou is back in our hands, we can look to Anjou,' he announced, wafting his goblet. 'My brother will hold court in Angers before this campaign is finished, mark me. We have the French on the run.'
Men toasted the sentiment and cheered because it was good fighting talk and, after today, anything seemed possible. Tonight no one wanted to think that it
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