Chapter 35

35

T he knights changed into the boatmen's garb, grabbed the long poles and did an admirable job under Raoul's direction of steering the barge down the river. They made swift passage through the night, pausing at the darkest hour to lower the four naked bodies over the side.

During daylight hours, each time the barge drifted past workmen in the fields or other travellers on the river, Raoul prompted them to wave and doff their caps. They even stopped alongside one small vill to trade a bale of wool for a basket of fresh cheese and vegetables.

They took turns at resting muscles that were unaccustomed to such menial labour. Renn had tried his hand with one of the barge poles, but only lasted one or two pushes before his face was bathed in sweat and the pain in his arm caused his hands to tremble so badly they skidded off the oak. He went inside to lay down at Ellyn's insistence but no sooner had the sweat on his brow dried than he was back prowling the deck, unable to rest while others did the brunt of the work. He kept his eyes trained on the riverbanks, watching for any sign of men on horseback or men creeping through the trees watching them .

Bethy remained in her cabin, steeped in misery, her face turned to the wall. She would neither eat or drink anything and although she looked up expectantly each time someone approached, she sighed and turned her head again when it was not the face she hoped to see.

"It would help if you spared her a kind word," Renn said.

"I am not feeling particularly charitable just yet."

He and Roger were sitting on two crates while Baldor and Terrowin took their turns on the poles. Raoul was on the tiller keeping the barge steady down the middle of the river. The faintest rim of pale blue was smeared across the horizon and all five men were weary, their hands blistered despite the leather gloves Raoul provided.

"That should be my sentiment, yet she seems penitent enough and I can find my way to forgive her. Her brother's life—"

Roger looked at him. "Her brother's life is likely forfeit regardless. As soon as word reaches Nottingham that she has failed to deliver us into Carac Falconard's hands how long do you suppose Harold will hold him hostage?"

"A blunt point well made and well taken. But the girl suffers enough for her betrayal without adding guilt to the measure."

"We all suffer measures of guilt for past deeds. And we all bear scars from past betrayals. Now, instead of playing the role of cupid, do you not suppose we should make some sort of plan for when we disembark?"

"My plan is to avoid an ambush, disembark as soon as we see the lights of Troyes, and travel to Dijon by another route. If Carac Falconard is following the river, he may not have reason to suspect the barge captain has been found out, but we must play it as if he has and land sooner rather than later. It would also be best to land at night. England is not alone in having outlaws in the forests and Raoul has said he is not particularly fond of the narrow bends in this part of the Seine." He looked out over the dark gleam of water and the layer of gray mist hugging the riverbank. "I will be happy to have a horse beneath me again."

"Do you think you are well enough to sit a horse?"

"As long as I use my legs and not my arms to keep my seat, aye."

Roger smirked to hide a chuckle. "I thought Ellyn was going to crack the barge pole over your head when she came on deck and saw you at the end of it."

Renn twisted a scrap of string he was holding in his hands. "She is a woman. She worries too much."

"She is a capable woman who saved your life and, from what I saw, stopped de Vos from hacking off your hand for a trophy. Moreover, she knows how to use her bow to good effect; a skill that will come in handy if we have to fight our way through Carac's men. It would help if you spared her a kind word or two."

"Now who assumes the role of cupid?"

Roger laughed and stood. A split second later, an iron quarrel struck the side of the crate where his head had been.

" Down !" Renn shouted. " Get down! "

Two more quarrels thunnked into the side of the barge; a third struck Raoul as he turned to respond to the shout. The arrow caught the boatman high on the shoulder, spinning him around, whereupon he let go of the tiller and fell overboard into the swirling current of the river.

Renn crouched below the level of the bulwark, shielded from another flurry of quarrels. He heard another cry and saw Baldor leaning over Terrowin, grabbing him by his leather tunic and dragging him behind the pile of cargo.

Roger caterpillared on his belly until he was alongside Renn. "Damn near lost my ear! Can you see anyone?"

Renn inched his head up, peeking over the top of the bulwark with one eye. The river was taking a slow, wide turn around a small finger of land where both banks were thick with trees and brambles, smudged behind swirling eddies of mist. It was the perfect place for an ambuscade and if Raoul was not dead already, Renn would happily have choked him.

He tried to peek over the rim of the bulwark but ducked quickly as another hail of arrows peppered the side of the barge and the wooden slats of the shed housing the cabins.

Baldor poked his head out from behind the crates. "They will have daylight soon. The mist will lift and their aim will improve."

"How is Terrowin?"

"Pricked in the thigh, holes in and out. Not leaking much blood."

That was a good sign. At least the arrow missed a vital artery. But if he was unable to stand or fight, that would put them a man down.

"Both sides of the river are thick with cover," Roger said, wincing as he pulled a splinter out of his palm. "If it were me setting up an ambush, I would put men on each riverbank and catch us in a crossfire."

"We do not even know how many are out there." Renn hissed to get Baldor's attention. "Keep a sharp eye out if they show themselves."

"I am keeping a sharper eye on the river," Terrowin said. "The rudder is unattended and the current is starting to push us toward shore. "

Renn swore and risked another peek. Terrowin was right. The tiller had no hand on it and the bow was swinging slowly toward the shore. Without cover, it would be suicide to try to man the barge poles but the cargo-laden barge was in danger of running aground in the shallows. They had perhaps a hundred feet of dark water before the hull would scrape into soft mud and become stuck there.

"Baldor, any sign of movement on the other shore?"

"Nay. Not so far as I can see through this bloody mist."

Renn nodded at Roger. "Stay here and keep a sharp eye, let me know how close we are coming to shore."

"What are you going to do?"

But Renn was gone. He rose into a crouch then dashed to the other side of the barge, narrowly missing a spate of quarrels that flew over his head.

He skidded down beside Baldor and Terrowin, who was in the process of tearing off a strip of cloth from his chainse to tie around his thigh. "How bad?"

"No worse than a bee sting," the knight said through clenched teeth.

"Baldor, you and I are going to start offloading some of the heaviest crates and barrels. The oil, the fish, the flax, the wine. Whatever we can lift and heave over to lighten the boat."

A feminine voice came out of the gloom of the hatchway. "What is happening?"

"Get back inside," Renn ordered.

"Is it Nottingham's men?"

"They have not identified themselves. They might be river pirates, for all we know, and if so, chasing after the cargo may distract them. Now get back inside and stay out of sight."

Ellyn retreated into the gloom but was back in a trice, with Bethy behind her. Ellyn caught Roger's attention and slid a crossbow across the deck but instead of Bethy handing her the quiver of bolts to toss after it, the girl darted past and ran to Roger's side, taking the quiver with her. He grabbed her arm and hauled her down onto the deck, cursing as more arrows hissed by over their heads.

Ellyn dashed across the gap to the other side of the barge carrying a second crossbow, which she handed to Terrowin, and two quivers, one filled with bolts, the other with ashwood arrows for the longbow she had slung over her shoulder.

Rennwick paused midway through heaving a heavy cask over the side. "What the blood hell do you think you are doing? I ordered you to stay inside!"

"You should know by now how well I respond to orders," she said and nocked an arrow into her bow. She stepped out of cover just long enough to fire, then ducked back and drew another arrow out of the quiver. With Roger firing from behind the bulwark and Terrowin at the opposite end of the crates, the three started returning fire at anything that moved on shore. Baldor and Renn kept throwing barrels and bales and casks over the side. Splash after splash after splash left a trail of bobbing cargo in their wake. They were now sixty feet from the shore and the current was starting to turn the drifting barge around.

Rennwick looked aft to where the wooden arm of the tiller was swinging lazily back and forth, keeping mostly to the left so that the rudder was being guided by the current and pointing them in the direction of the shore.

"Damnation!" He threw one last crate over the side, clapped Baldor on the back to indicate where he was going, then darted across the gap between the now depleted stacks of cargo and the cabin structure. The flights of arrows from the riverbank slowed and shouts could be heard from the riverbank, but so far no one had taken the bait. The casks, the crates, the barrels bobbed away, carried downstream by the current.

Renn glanced over his shoulder and waited until both Ellyn and Terrowin were firing their arrows before he ran out and grabbed at the tiller, pushing it all the way to the right. He found a length of rope and looped it around the end, then anchored it to a clew ring to keep the tiller turned right.

"Rennwick de Beauvoir! Give the girl up and we will let you go on your way!"

It had been over fifteen years, but Renn recognized the voice.

"Carac Falconard," he shouted back. "I thought you would be dead of cock-rot by now."

The insult won an arrow that zinged by his head, a little too close for comfort. At the front of the barge, Ellyn had been watching and let loose an arrow, catching the man who had stood to fire his bow. A strangled cry saw him clutch at his belly and crash backward into the mist.

Thirty feet from shore, the barge started to respond to the rudder and turn back out toward the middle of the river, but not fast enough.

At a screamed order from shore, men started plunging into the water to chase them down. Ellyn and Terrowin shot three of them, Roger got a fourth, and when Renn saw a hand grab at the side of the barge, he hacked it off with his sword and felt a hot spray of blood splash across his cheek.

Arrows flew both ways. Men screamed and bodies splashed into the water. Clouds of mist swirled around, distorting distance and direction and even though the barge was drifting farther from shore, Renn could hear swords clashing from the foredeck as some of the attackers managed to get on board.

He was not alone either. Two men, their chausses dripping water, clambered over the low gunwale and drew their swords.

One of them he recognized by the scars on his face.

Renn snarled. "Your brother sent you to do his murdering work?"

Carac grinned, "We came for the girl. Killing you, after all these years, will be an added pleasure."

The second man dropped into a crouch, the tip of his sword making small threatening circles. A stubby iron quarrel, fired out of the mist by one of his own comrades, struck him in the back and sent him flailing back into the water.

Carac cursed at the error but was not deterred. He lunged across the deck, his sword raised to sweep down and cut across the level of Renn's head. It was an easy enough attack to block and Renn moved in the direction of the swing, following the motion of his attacker's arm, bringing his own sword high and slashing down on a sharp slant. The tip caught Carac's sleeve and tore it open, exposing the links of his mail hauberk, but the steel came away unblooded.

Carac thought to return the insult and gripped his hilt in both hands for a powerful swing at Renn, who took a nimble leap backward to avoid it. With Falconard off balance, he spun around and brought his sword slashing across in a blur, aiming for the vulnerable length of Carac's thigh. His sword sliced into solid meat and bit through to the bone, shattering it.

Falconard's leg buckled and he went down. His sword tumbled away as he reached down to try to staunch the gouting blood, but it was obvious the artery had been cut.

"You never were very good with a sword," Renn said. " You should have spent less time whoring and more time on the training field."

As the life bled out of him, Carac's hate-filled gaze stayed locked on Renn's face.

"Keep looking over your shoulder," he hissed. "There will be more coming."

"Not today." Renn looked out over the side. Someone had seen their leader go down and shouts were echoing across the water to withdraw. The barge was back in the middle of the river and the current was taking them quickly into the banks of fog.

Ellyn ran out of the shadows. The look of triumph on her face faded when she saw the blood covering the front of Renn's woolen shirt.

"Are you hurt?" she gasped.

He looked down. "It is not my blood. How are the others?"

She shook her head and they ran together to the front of the barge. Terrowin was cursing as he picked one of his fingers up off the deck. His left hand was dripping blood from the severed stump.

Baldor was bleeding from a cut on his brow, but was otherwise unhurt.

"Roger?"

"Over there." Baldor pointed and Renn hastened to the other side of the cargo where he saw Roger leaning against the bulwark, his legs stretched out, and Bethy cradled against his chest.

It wasn't until Renn crouched down beside them that he saw that Bethy's eyes were wide open and fixed, and she had a crossbow bolt buried deep between her shoulder blades.

"She threw herself in front of me," Roger said in a voice too distant to comfort. "The arrow was meant for me and she took it in my stead."

There was little Renn could do or say, so he stood and led Ellyn away to give Roger a few more moments of privacy.

Baldor was already heaving the bodies over the side, leaving a trail of red water in their wake.

The sky was growing lighter and the mist thinner as they hoisted the single sail and steered the barge around the narrow turn in the river.

While they were under attack, Renn had ignored any pain in his arm, but now that the excitement was waning, it started to throb with a vengeance.

"Well then," Rennwick said at length. "We have lost Raoul and are sailing a barge down a river that none of us know. Suggestions?"

"Find a place to go ashore," Baldor grunted. "I would rather take my chances on land than sit out here on the water like fat ducks looking to be spitted and roasted."

"Agreed," Terrowin said, wrapping a strip of cloth around his hand.

"How many arrows do we have left?" Roger asked, joining them. His limp seemed more pronounced, but otherwise he was uninjured.

"There should be enough sticking out of the sides of the barge to replenish our supply if we need them. Why do you ask?"

"Because we may, indeed, need them."

Renn's smiled faded as he followed Roger's stare to the riverbank up ahead.

There were three knights in full armor sitting still as statues on horseback, their helms and chain mail gleaming against the green of the slope behind them. The mist cleared as if a hand brushed it away and ten, twenty more knights appeared over the rise, spurring their horses down the slope to form a long, solid line along the riverbank. A dozen archers accompanied them and knelt in a line in front of the knights, their bows raised and aimed at the drifting barge.

"Carac warned there would be more coming," Rennwick murmured.

"More of Nottingham's men?" Ellyn asked, feeling helpless as they were confronted with this new, far more formidable threat.

On shore, one of the knights unfurled a swallow-tailed pennon and held it aloft on the tip of his sword.

The panic in Renn's eyes faded and a slow grin started to form. "I think not. They are far too well appointed."

"Their timing could have been a little better," Terrowin groused, tossing his severed pinky finger over the side.

"I do not understand," Ellyn said.

"They carry the colors of Burgundy The black and red of the lady we serve."