A Flight of Arrows A.J. MacKenzie (black authors fiction TXT) 📖
- Author: A.J. MacKenzie
Book online «A Flight of Arrows A.J. MacKenzie (black authors fiction TXT) 📖». Author A.J. MacKenzie
‘How?’ asked Nanteuil.
Vaud hesitated. ‘I don’t know.’
‘I begin to think his Imperial Majesty is right,’ Nanteuil said. ‘This looks very much like treason.’
Grimaldi slammed his hand down on the hilt of his sword. ‘Enough. I will not be insulted, and I will not be called a traitor. I withdraw. I shall take my troops and my ships and return to Monaco. And do not ever call on me for aid again, Alençon. If you do, I will return your messenger’s head in a sack.’
He strode out of the room. Doria followed him. Vaud glared at Nanteuil and Alençon. ‘You damned fools! What have you done?’
‘What have we done?’ demanded the Grand Prior. ‘It is you who have questions to answer, my lords.’ He turned to Alençon. ‘Call the guards. Arrest them all.’
‘No,’ said another voice from the door. ‘Wait.’
John of Hainault was in his late fifties now, but he still moved like the champion swordsman and jouster he had once been. Ignoring Courcy and Gráinne, silent spectators in the game, he walked forward and stopped a few paces from the herald, crossing his arms over his chest.
‘He knows about Tracey,’ Nanteuil said.
‘So it would seem,’ said Hainault. ‘Something needs to be done about that.’
‘For Christ’s sake!’ Vidal said sharply. ‘Merrivale is not the problem that needs dealing with! The Count of Alençon’s drunken outburst has ruined everything. We have lost the Genoese!’
‘We shall get them back,’ said Hainault, his eyes still resting on Merrivale.
‘We don’t need them!’ Alençon snapped. ‘We are better off without them. They’re mercenary bastards who will work for the highest bidder.’
‘As do you,’ Hainault said. ‘Your price, I seem to recall, was a hundred thousand écus.’
Alençon checked, swaying a little, and lapsed into sullen silence. Hainault continued to stare at Merrivale. ‘Why are you here?’
Again, Merrivale said nothing. ‘He has promised us the support of Normandy,’ said Louis of Vaud.
‘Has he now? How interesting. But I think proof of his loyalty is required before we believe him.’ Hainault paused for a moment. ‘Tell me where the English army is.’
‘At this moment, they are concealed in the Forêt de Crécy.’
Alençon started to speak, but Hainault silenced him with a sharp motion. ‘What are Edward’s intentions? Will he stand, or will he retreat to the north?’
‘He will stand. He has chosen a position on a ridge east of the forest. He will meet you there.’
‘Liar!’ Alençon shouted. ‘The English would not dare to stand against us! They are retreating towards Flanders! I told everyone this, but you fools will not listen!’
‘Perhaps that is because our scouts have found no sign of them,’ said Louis of Vaud. ‘If they have marched away north, they have left no trace behind them. Not so much as a hoof print on the ground.’
‘Why are you not listening to me? Edward of England has duped you, all of you! And now he has sent his spy to pour poison into your ears. God rot you all for blundering idiots!’
Hainault rounded on him. ‘Shut up,’ he said.
‘How dare you—’
Hainault’s fist did not travel far, but it thudded into Alençon’s midriff like a tree trunk, knocking the wind out of the count and doubling him over in pain. ‘Enough!’ he commanded. ‘You damned puppy! I have spent nearly half my life on this project, and I will not see it fail now. You will keep a civil tongue in your head and obey orders, Alençon, or by God I will find another king!’
‘Or queen,’ said Merrivale. ‘Jeanne of Navarre has as good a claim to the throne as this man.’ He eyed Alençon with open insolence. ‘And more balls,’ he added.
Vidal laughed. Alençon glared at them, his face almost purple with rage, his mouth opening and shutting silently. Still clutching his midriff, he staggered out into the cloister. A moment later, they heard the sound of retching.
Hainault stood for a moment, his own eyes calculating. ‘Your idea is not without merit,’ he said.
‘Of course, there is a problem,’ Merrivale said. ‘The law says that a woman cannot inherit the throne of France.’
Hainault waved a dismissive hand. ‘We invented that law, and we can abolish it just as easily. So. Edward intends to fight. How strong is his army?’
‘With the losses he took at the Blanchetaque, fewer than ten thousand. They are tired and hungry, and desertions are increasing. But I give you fair warning, my lord. They are still formidable, and the position at Crécy is a good one; Northampton himself has chosen it. You are likely to take heavy losses.’
Hainault shrugged. ‘Sometimes one must sacrifice pieces to win the game.’ He looked at Vaud. ‘Have you reached an agreement?’
‘We have,’ said Merrivale before Vaud could answer.
‘Then this is your test. If Edward is where you say he is and we win the victory tomorrow, we will pay whatever price you have agreed. But if you have played us false, I will put every assassin in Europe on your trail. As surely as night follows day, you will die. Have I made myself clear?’
‘Yes, my lord,’ Merrivale said.
Hainault nodded. ‘Go,’ he said. ‘And let us see what tomorrow brings.’
Merrivale turned and strode across the scriptorium towards the door, Tiphaine hurrying behind him like a dog. ‘Quickly,’ he whispered to Courcy and Gráinne. ‘Before they change their minds.’
Outside, there was no sign of Alençon. They hurried through the cloister and into the courtyard, and nearly collided with a man running in the opposite direction. Tiphaine gasped. The man looked at her, and his eyes opened wide.
‘You! What the devil?’
Tiphaine turned to run, but the man grabbed her arm and spun her around, drawing his dagger from his belt. ‘You treacherous bitch! I’m going to finish you, here and now!’
Courcy hit him on the point of the chin with an audible crack, and they saw his eyes roll back in his head before he slumped to the ground. Merrivale looked around, but no one seemed to have noticed the brief commotion in
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