The Crusader's Crown (Tales of the Brotherhood Series Book 1) James Mercer (ebook reader that looks like a book .TXT) 📖

city, who will have the number you require prepared and ready before we embark on our journey south. Rest assured Commander, this will not be deducted from our agreed price.”

   “You will be satisfied that my men fight in the colours of Sancerre?” asked Reynard.

   “Of Sancerre, of Spurling, even of England if you wish. But when the armies of our alliance stand on the battlefield, the army of Navarre and all those who serve under its banner will outshine all of them. Do I make myself clear?”

   “As you command your Grace.”

  Once they had bowed to the King and bid farewell to his other vassals, the three men walked out into the open air. Robert took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the fresh air after the confines of the tent.

   “You look troubled Commander?” he said.

   “I have not seen more than a handful of men in my family’s livery since the days of my grandfather.”

   “There is one benefit though. The lads will be able to recognise one another more easily on the battlefield,” answered Alfonso.

   “They’ve never had trouble before?” replied the Commander. “Still, the King has demanded it and we certainly have the coin to afford it. So best we make a start.”

   “But four hundred surcoats to be made in only a matter of weeks. Surely we will be hard pressed to achieve such a task?” said Robert.

   “We’ll see for ourselves tomorrow. Anyhow, let us return and break the news to Hamish and Wilf, for I am sure they are going to be the first of many to protest.”

   “A waste of good silver if you ask me,” growled Hamish.

  The Commander had been right. The news did not sit well with the Scotsman.

   “I don’t know,” mused Wilf. “The Forgotten Army’s reputation is starting to make quite an impression. Maybe fighting under our own banner, and in our own colours, wouldn’t be a bad thing?”

  Robert suspected that his Anglo-Saxon mentor was thinking back to the times when his ancestors wore the colours of their tribe, whether it be painted on their faces, on the sleeveless tunics worn over chainmail or on their circular shields.

   “We will have to act fast to equip every man with a surcoat a piece,” said the Commander, ignoring his captain’s objections.

  Robert had remained quiet while the Commander had briefed his captains and discussed their plans.

   “So it’s settled then. Tomorrow, we will go into Toledo. Alfonso, you and Hamish will sort out the surcoats for our mounted detachment. How many would you say we have at the moment?”

   “In total, I’d say close to one hundred and fifty,” answered Alfonso.

   “Good. Robert and I will find another who can produce enough for the infantry and archers. Wilf, I’ll leave you the happy task of telling the men what’s in store for them. To soften the blow, tell them they are allowed to go into the city but any crimes committed, if the local law keepers don’t have them, I will.”

  As they started to leave the Commander’s tent, Robert was summoned back. He had thought this was coming.

   “Wine?” asked the Commander.

   “Please.”

  The Commander poured wine into two goblets.

   “Your differences with the French knight in front of the men seems to have made you a reputation already,” began Reynard.

  His voice was stern but not angry. Robert kept his head up, staring straight ahead.

   “I am sorry Commander, it will not happen again.”

   “Yes it will.” Robert’s head snapped round.

  Reynard took another gulp of his wine.

   “You’re a knight now Robert. You have rank, you have equality, Christ, today you spoke with a King! Things are no longer the same for you in the Forgotten Army.”

   “So what would you have me do?”

   “I want you to pick six men of your choice from the Army. When we go into Toledo tomorrow, as well as the surcoats of Sancerre, we will have six made in the colours and arms of the Spurlings.”

   “Of the Spurlings, Why?” Robert’s heart was suddenly beating fast.

   “A vanguard is only effective when its scouting parties consist of the finest. You’ve proved yourself in front of the men, you’ve experience in leading them. When we start south, you and your party will travel a half a day ahead of us. You’ll report back any findings on your travels and any potential of hostiles or ambushes. If Sancho wants the army of Navarre to show it is the finest, then this will certainly be of help.”

   “It would be my honour sir.”

   “Enough of the pleasantries Rob. Bugger off and get some rest. We’ve a long day of boredom tomorrow.”

  Robert smiled and made his way toward the tent’s entrance.

   “And Robert. Tomorrow, pack your cloak. The Brotherhood have called an assembly.”

 

 

 

 

Chapter 8

Being at the forefront of the army meant more chance of plunder and more chance of combat, a proposal which particularly appealed to the Gutsberg Brothers and Jimmy. Robert would have liked to ask Ruscar to join his band, but he knew the Moor would never leave the Commander’s side.

   “Any others you can think of?” Robert asked.

   “Actually, I may know of two,” answered Jürgen. “They prefer to fight with their feet on the ground but I’ve seen them on horseback and they can certainly hold their own.”

   “And I know another who would fit the last place nicely,” added Jimmy.

  That evening, the three new recruits met with Robert at his campfire where he had been sitting with Cherik. There was a small cooking pot with a fragrant stew bubbling over it.

   “Rob, this is Athaelstan and Ridley,” said Jürgen.

  The dancing