My Lord, the Hermit Read online

  Amory fingered the scar on his forehead which ran up to that one white lock of hair. He frowned. He had been told that he had hit his head there, against the edge of the bed. Well and good. But how could you hit yourself on the back of the head, and then fall forward to hit yourself on the forehead? Had the devil really taken possession of him? He was back in the nightmare again.

  He sighed, rose, and returned to the glade, sheathing his knife.

  Most of the little community was now awake, yawning and scratching in the thin sunlight. The girl was tending the fire, looking sullen. A large man with a coarse black beard and a mop of tangled hair stood with legs akimbo, squinting through the trees. He bore a heavy sword at his side, and every line of him proclaimed that he was chief of the little band. He was the man who had carried Dickon to Amory weeks before. He looked at Amory, and scowled. Amory hesitated. He didn’t want any trouble.

  Rob came out of the shelter, and tried to convey a warning to Amory with a shrug and a wink of his one eye. Amory needed no such warning. His hand touched the shaft of his knife, and fell away.

  The big man roared. ‘Hey! The slugabed condescends to return. Make haste, for your patients await. We have sprains and boils for you to attend, and after that you can help the woman cook our meal.’

  Rob and the swineherd Col moved round the glade to stand at Amory’s back. The girl picked up a bow and strung an arrow, ready to defend … whom?

  ‘I will attend to what hurts your men may have,’ said Amory, ‘in thanks for your hospitality of last night. Then I will be on my way.’

  The big man reached out a long arm, and took Amory’s ear in his grasp. ‘Silence, hermit. You are too valuable a physician for us to lose. Learn your place, and you will be well-fed. Try to escape, and we will have to fetter you once again. Is it understood?’

  Amory measured the man’s height, weight and possible weak points out of the corner of his eye. His opponent was big and fit enough. He had carried Dickon on his back with ease. The big man laughed, and released Amory, pushing him towards the cot; then stood with his legs astride, smacking his hands one against the other, inviting his followers to applaud him.

  Amory stepped back, dropped his belt, and stripped off his tunic. The big man’s eyes shone, and he licked his lips. ‘What, cock? Does it fight?’

  Amory crouched, circling to get the sun out of his eyes. The big man blundered at him, aiming a blow which should have knocked Amory sideways … except that he was not there when it landed. The captain was brought up short, his heels digging into the turf. He turned, his face suffused with red, as he realized how he had been fooled. He advanced on Amory more slowly this time, and his eyes almost disappeared into his head. Amory feinted as if he would run to the right, and then darted back as the big captain plunged that way. The big man’s right foot was caught, and he fell on his side with a cry of alarm. Amory held his foot in the air, twisting it. The other tried to grab Amory, but there was nothing but a brawny bare leg to catch hold of. Amory had not worked for nine years breaking and carting stone for nothing. His body was not heavily muscled, but every muscle he had was in training, while the big man was too heavy to be fast.

  Amory stood back, and the captain get up, breathing hard. Limping, he ran for Amory. Once more Amory sidestepped and tripped him. This time he let the man fall his length, without attempting to do any further damage. At this the yells of the watching men died down. They sent speculative glances at Amory, who was not even breathing heavily. Then they looked at the fallen man, and their focus of admiration shifted.

  The big man got up, and his head swung from side to side as he looked for and located Amory. Amory was standing between two trees, arms outstretched to touch the trunks of both.

  ‘I’m going to kill you,’ said the captain, drawing his sword. But Amory only smiled. The big man took one step towards him, and then another, slowly, with menace. He lifted his sword, Rob cried out, but Amory never moved. Some said, indeed, that his smile grew broader. The sword began to descend, and Amory was behind a tree. The big man stumbled forward, and Amory hit him on the back of the neck with linked hands. He fell, and did not rise. Amory hoisted him to his shoulders, and bore him to the stream. There he lifted him high above his head, and dropped him into the water.

  A great sigh left the watching men. The girl threw down her bow and arrow, and returned to watching the cooking-pot. Rob and Col took their hands from their knives, and smiled at each other.

  Amory walked back into the glade, resumed his tunic, and buckled on the big man’s sword. The men sidled around the fire, making room for him, awaiting orders. The group had a new captain.

  Joanna had slept late, and the other girls had long since left their bedchamber. Her new maid, Kate, was brushing out Joanna’s hair, while the collie lay with her nose pointing to the door. Kate had not been trained to be a tirewoman, but she was deft with a needle, and quick to learn her new duties; above all, there was a sympathy between her and her new mistress which was a comfort to them both.

  ‘You slept a little, mistress?’ asked Kate, who, like most people in the castle, had remarked Joanna’s haggard looks.

  ‘Yes. I lay awake a long time, trying to pray, and then I slept and dreamed of a forest pool. For a little while I was happy, and then I woke, and remembered. … I wish I knew more about praying. It seems to come so easily to my cousin Joyeuse. She kneels down – plump! And the prayers slip through her lips, and then she rises, all smiles, and says she has been praying for Father Hilarion, and her father, and off she goes and she isn’t the least bit tired. Whenever I start praying in the usual way I find myself thinking about the hole I tore in my dress, and a tickle in the small of my back, and the crack in the plaster on the wall.’

  Kate nodded. ‘I have come into the room and seen you were praying, although you seemed to be doing nothing at all.’

  ‘Then how did you know I was praying?’

  ‘The room was full of … I don’t know. It made me want to walk quietly. And then I saw how tired you looked, after. I think that’s how he used to pray.’ She did not need to say who she meant.

  ‘I wonder,’ mused Joanna, heavy head on hand, ‘if prayers do any good at all. Am I wearing myself out for nothing? I’m so tired, I can’t think straight. I say aloud – he is dead. The words mean nothing. I can’t feel anything.’ Kate began to braid her mistress’s hair. ‘Kate, when did you see him pray like that?’

  ‘After I had been raped, lady. I lost count of how many times the men took me. Our house had been burned. There was nothing left but the clothes we wore, so we started walking, and my mother remembered hearing tell of the hermit, so we went that way. The women told Keren that it was best they looked after me. My mother agreed. They felt it was not a man’s affair. But he watched me, all the time. One night I went down into the dell, meaning to drown myself in the water. He followed me, and set his will against mine, so that I could not do it. And yet he did not touch me, for fear it would frighten me. I do not like to have any man lay his hands on me, even now. Then as we sat there, with the water between us, I found myself telling him about it, and of my fear that I might have conceived by one of those … those beasts. I had not even told the women that, nor my mother, but he seemed to have guessed. He gave me some pennyroyal to take, and it worked. As soon as I knew I was not going to have a baby, I began to feel better. My mother, too; she is dying, I think, although she denies that she is any worse and insists on taking her share of tasks. He used to sit with her and let her tell him scandalous stories of priests and miller’s wives and the folly of men. And they used to laugh, and to make us laugh. … Then there was a little babe not six months old that he gave to Elena to try to rear, but the poor thing was too weakly. It died in his arms, so peacefully. He seemed to have no fear of death or dying. If he is dead, lady, then he is at rest, and I do not think we should grieve.’

  ‘I do not grieve,’ said Joanna. ‘I am too tired to grieve.’

  Amory ducked int
o the scrub that lined the path, and after a fewyards of pushing through whip-like branches he came to a shallow pit in the ground. He dropped into this. One of his men was already there, and raised a hand to welcome him. Together they peered out over the valley below and around them.

  They were on the tip of the tongue of rising land which encompassed the eastern side of the valley, within half a mile to the north-east of the castle. Once there had been a track along the top of this ridge, when the land below had been nothing but marsh. But now only the shepherds knew of this old path, for the draining of the valley had meant that the road lay along the bottom, and the old ways were neglected. Yet still there were signs on the hills that man had lived there once. Here stood a ruinous tower, there a shepherd’s cot. It was to this old tower that Amory had brought his little band.

  With his hand over his eyes, Amory scanned the distant ridge to the south. There was smoke rising from the soldiers’ fire, as usual, and desultory activity around the church. Local intelligence said that Sir Bevil was continuing to build up the sides of the church and to reinforce the ring of stakes around it, so as to make a secure base from which to hold the cross-roads. There was little activity there today, though.

  Sir Bevil and his men now held the Travellers’ Way as far as the eye could see, east and west. The castle in the valley was the beginning of the King’s territory. Amory transferred his attention to that same castle, considering the defences with a professional soldier’s eye.

  ‘Well built, but ill-maintained,’ said Rob, following the direction of Amory’s eye. ‘The Count was heavily fined by the King for some foolishness or other some ten years back, and there’s been nothing much done to the place since.’

  ‘Yet I would not care to besiege it, without engines,’ said Amory. ‘The river is a strong protection, the walls are high, and they have their own well. No, given even as few men as they have, they can hold the place.’

  ‘Barring treachery,’ said Rob.

  ‘Where did he get the money to build the convent and new church?’ asked Amory.

  ‘His sister’s dowry. Some hanky-panky, if I know priests.’ Rob pointed to a road which snaked south to north along the valley, and then divided, one branch continuing north, and the other turning west. ‘The Count and his party rode back from the abbey along the west road yesterday. He must have tried the Travellers’ Way, and found it barred to him.’

  ‘Tell me exactly who rode with him, and what baggage they carried.’

  ‘There were two pennants, with two knights riding ahead. One bore the Count’s device, and the other was that of Sir Walter, who rode with him to the abbey. There were two churchmen. I could see their habits and their tonsures. They must have come from the abbey, but I do not think either was the abbot himself. He would not have ridden here attended only by one priest, would he? Then there were some twenty men-at-arms, the same who rode out with the Count. All were fatigued, but pressing forward to reach the castle in haste. There were four pack-horses, but none were heavy-laden. One bore baskets, such as are used for carrier pigeons. There were no carts, and no recruits to the castle defences.’

  ‘So the Count did not bring any money back with him from the abbey?’

  ‘I think not.’

  Amory stood up, frowning. This was not good news.

  Rob said, ‘Col has an aunt in the castle. He’d like to let her know he’s still alive.’

  ‘No, we must not give our position away. Any professional soldier – like Herkom – would feel threatened if he knew a force of armed men was occupying a fortified tower within striking distance of the castle. He’d want to drive us out. I expect the tower was an outpost of the castle defences in the old days.’

  ‘Col need not say where we are. He can wander down, casual like, and pass the time of day with his aunt, before making his way back here. Or he could send a message by Elena or Dickon, who go to fetch water from the spring in the meadow every day. They would not give him away, but pass the word on to his aunt, quietly.’

  Amory shook his head. If word once got down to the castle that the hermit was alive – and Col could not be expected to keep such a piece of news to himself – then he, Amory, would have to place himself once more under the rule of the Father Hilarion. ‘I’d sooner die,’ said Amory.

  ‘Young men talk a lot about dying,’ said Rob. ‘But I haven’t noticed they are so keen to do it.’

  Amory said he had to visit the other outpost before midday, and left. He gave the valley one last look through the branches of the shrubs that bounded the lip of the pit, and disappeared back up the slope. After a moment or so, Col crept out from his hiding-place, and shook twigs from his tunic.

  ‘All right,’ said Rob. ‘I’ll watch out for you. It’s about the time that Elena goes to the spring. But be back before he finds out, or he’ll flay you alive.’

  Col grinned, and slipped down the slope into the valley.

  Amory had brought his men to the tower because the cot in the woods was poor shelter for so many men, and because they could neither watch all the paths in the forest satisfactorily, nor gain enough information as to their enemies’ movements from there. Blackbeard and two of his men had left the camp after Amory had worsted him, but had rejoined them at the tower a couple of days previously. He was not the easiest of men to mould into a lieutenant, and Amory felt he would always have to watch him carefully, but on the other hand he was one of only three who had had experience of fighting with pike and sword, and every day Amory set aside some time for training his men in the arts of war.

  The clothes Amory wore now were those which Herkom had hidden for him in the hollow oak. The chain mail and helmet Amory only donned for training sessions, but a great sword hung always at his hip. He wore a woollen tunic of dark green, with a black caped hood over it. His hose were also of dark green, and his boots of buckskin, Long ago the girl Alice had filed the cuffs off his ankles. Altogether he looked very different from the hermit who had toiled on the hill for so many years. Because his stride was free, he held his head higher, and even the line of his brow ar d the curve of his nostril appeared more finely cut than before. The note of command, so long absent from his voice, had returned, and he laughed infrequently, having less need of friendship, and much grief to hide.

  He thought of Joanna as he strode along the ridge. He wondered, not for the first time, what had happened to the brooch she had given him. Blackbeard was waiting for him at the turn-off to the other look-out, and they went there together.

  This look-out gave a better view of the quarry than did Rob’s.

  ‘They’re cutting stone blocks again,’ Blackbeard said. ‘Sir Bevil must have allowed some of the stone-cutters and masons to live, for see … the men-at-arms are standing guard over them, with whips. I don’t know what he wants the stones for.’

  ‘Not for the Count’s church!’ quipped the look-out man, and they all three smiled.

  Blackbeard nudged Amory’s arm. ‘When do we go east, master? There’s places where they’re still fighting. There’s loot there.’

  ‘There’s no hurry,’ said Amory. ‘We have game from the woods, water from the streams, and a roof over our heads. More, the Count might be glad of our protection in the days to come – without our having to travel to enlist in the east.’

  But he frowned again. There had been little likelihood of Sir Bevil’s attacking the valley while the Count was gone, presumably, to raise money with which to buy his enemy off. But now the Count was back, and it seemed he had returned without ransom money, and therefore. …

  The look-out man pointed to where two horsemen cantered across the plain from the castle, on the road to the quarry. ‘One of the Count’s squires, and his man carries a flag of truce.’

  ‘A herald,’ said Amory. ‘Carrying an offer of terms to Sir Bevil.’

  They waited. The two horsemen reached the quarry, and were surrounded by Sir Bevil’s men. After a long wait, the two horsemen were seen returning, but this time
they were led by a whooping crowd of Sir Bevil’s mounted men.

  ‘Christ Jesus!’ swore Blackbeard, slapping his thigh. That’s the way to treat the bastards!’

  The horses had been stripped of their panoply, and the two men had been stripped of their clothes. The horses’ tails had been docked, and their manes shorn. Their riders’ heads gleamed bald in the sunlight, and they sat facing their horses’ rumps, with their hands tied behind their backs, and their feet tied under their horses’ bellies.

  ‘We must remember,’ said Amory, ‘that a flag of truce means nothing to Sir Bevil.’

  The Count sent for Joanna. She arrived in the hall to find that not only were the rest of the family present, including the new abbess, but also Father Hilarion, Sir Walter, and the two newcomers from the abbey. As she bent head and knee to her uncle, the old Countess demanded to know where Joanna had been, but before the girl was halfway through her explanation that she had been visiting the sick workmen, the Count interrupted her.

  He was pale and nervous. Joanna had been informed by an excited page of the fate that had attended the Count’s emissaries, and she was not surprised that her uncle was distressed.

  He took her hand and put it into Julian’s. ‘It is necessary for us to bring forward the date of your nuptials, niece. I know you have been studying some pageant or other, and that we planned to hold a feast and possibly even a tourney when you were married. But the times do not permit. We must draw in our horns, and you must make do without all the usual trappings. I know you will understand when I tell you it is for the common good. Father Hilarion will celebrate your nuptial mass tomorrow morning at ten.’