A Flight of Arrows A.J. MacKenzie (black authors fiction TXT) 📖

about his meeting with this man Chauffin. What is he hiding, I wonder?’

Nell the cowherd stood watching them with wide eyes. ‘You could have arrested him, señor, and put him to the question,’ Mauro said.

The herald shook his head. ‘I cannot touch him. I shall need to speak to the Earl of Warwick.’

He paused for a moment, staring out over the marsh towards Carentan. ‘And I fear he may not be very happy with me,’ he said.

Saint-Côme-du-Mont, 19th of July, 1346

Night

‘The causeway across the marshes is intact, so far as we can tell,’ Warwick said. ‘But Bertrand’s men have broken down the bridge over the River Douve, halfway between here and the town. We must repair it before we can advance.’

The day’s heat had gone and a chilly wind swept across the marshes. Men stood around them holding up torches that flickered in the blast. ‘The tide is ebbing,’ Edward de Tracey reported. ‘By midnight the marshes will be uncovered. That should give our carpenters access to the foundations of the bridge.’

John Grey nodded. ‘But they will have to work quickly,’ he said. ‘The tide will be at full flood again by morning.’

‘John, Richard, find some boats and take your company across the Douve,’ Warwick said. ‘Protect the far end of the bridge, and sound the alarm if the enemy approaches. Edward, Hugh,’ he said to Tracey and Despenser, ‘cover the near end, but send every man you can spare to help the carpenters. I want that bridge repaired by first light. As soon as it is ready, we advance on Carentan.’

‘What opposition can we expect?’ asked Despenser. He did not look at Merrivale, and was clearly doing his best to pretend the herald did not exist.

‘We don’t know for certain how many men Bertrand has, but he has been calling up the local men-at-arms and seems determined to resist. When we advance, the main force goes straight for the gate. At the same time, Harcourt’s column will move up from Coigny and attack from the west. By assaulting from two directions, we hope to overwhelm the defence.’

‘How will we break down the gate?’ Tracey asked.

‘Cannon,’ said Warwick. ‘Courcy, I want those four gunildas up at the front of the column, ready to advance with the rest. Tracey’s company will protect you and the gunners.’

Nicholas Courcy scratched his chin. Unusually for him, he looked worried. ‘Well now. There might be a slight problem with the cannon, my lord.’

‘What is it?’

The torches fluttered and roared in the wind. Merrivale noticed Roger Mortimer standing in the circle of men, watching.

‘The gunpowder has gone missing,’ Courcy said.

‘What? All of it?’

‘I fear so, my lord.’

‘Body of Christ!’ said Warwick. Angrily he smacked one gauntleted hand against his thigh. ‘What happened to it?’

‘I don’t know, my lord. I suspect it has been stolen by looters.’

‘Well, have you searched for it?’ the marshal demanded.

‘Not yet, my lord.’

‘Why in hell’s name not?’

‘With respect, my lord, because I have not had time. You called on my services as an engineer to help repair the bridge, remember? In any case, I doubt we’ll find it again. The looters will have hidden it by now, or sold it on.’

‘We can break down the gates with mangonels,’ John Grey said.

‘Which means diverting some of the carpenters from work on the bridge to build them. Yes, yes, I know it must be done, but Christ’s wounds! It is bad enough that these thieving bastards are pillaging the countryside, but if they have started robbing army stores as well, then we have a serious problem.’ He looked at the men around him. ‘Captains, control your men. And Courcy, I want that gunpowder replaced as soon as possible.’

The captains and knights dispersed. Warwick turned to the herald. ‘Well? Have you found Fierville?’

‘He has returned, my lord. I spoke to him earlier.’

‘Spoke to him?’ Warwick was still angry. ‘I told you to let me know when you found him, not to interrogate him yourself.’

‘Yes, my lord. I fear I was in error. But it seemed like a good opportunity to ask him what he knew about Bray.’

‘God damn it, herald, I am not interested in Bray. I want to know whether this man is a French spy!’

‘He is, my lord, I have no doubt of that. Fierville admitted to me that he was out on the Valognes road the morning we landed. There he met a French knight named Macio Chauffin, from the retinue of the Count of Eu. He claims he did so on behalf of my lord of Harcourt, who is negotiating with Eu, but I do not believe it.’

‘Why not?’

‘I was a king’s messenger for ten years, my lord. Being able to judge a man’s character quickly often meant the difference between life and death. Fierville does not dissemble well. I read his thoughts without difficulty.’

Warwick calmed a little. ‘Where is he now?’

‘Gone to join his master at Coigny. My lord, you may not care about the fate of Sir Edmund Bray, but I do. Fierville knows what happened to Bray, I am quite certain of it. At the very least, he is a witness to the killing.’

‘Very well. I will speak to Harcourt as soon as he rejoins us, and then summon Fierville and question him myself. You can be present.’ Warwick looked at him. ‘You are wondering why his lordship is so protective of his men.’

‘I am, my lord.’

‘They are aliens in a strange land, herald. They have given up everything to follow him. Some of his supporters have already been executed, and the men who serve him now face the gallows if they are captured. Harcourt protects them out of loyalty.’

‘Indeed, my lord. But permit me to wonder if that loyalty is misplaced. The lord of Harcourt cleaves to the English cause. But eight years ago, Fierville was one of the French leaders at the sack of Southampton.’

‘I am aware of that,’ Warwick said. ‘But if you are right, herald, and he really is a spy, then