The Retreat (medieval historical fiction)

Chapter 11 Among my People are Found Wicked Men

Judging by the darkening shadows of the forest, it was late in the afternoon when Jacques and I regained our small army; they had not made much by way of progress. Defending the rear were the mutur and these ranks of crudely armoured ruffians greeted my return with heartwarming cheers and shouts, which, while ribald and coarse, were meant well. Were these rough men so bad? Certainly, my feelings of contempt and disgust towards them had gone entirely. Perhaps they looked upon me as a candidate for King Mutur? Let me be truthful here: I relished the thought that I had the approval of these fierce warriors. While I delayed to exchange greetings with the mutur, Jacques bid me farewell and – in his clumsy fashion – urged his horse onwards.

After the organised ranks of the spears and axes of the mutur came the treasure cart. It was a large rectangle of planks (with sides) on an axle that connected two enormous wheels. These were solid wooden discs as tall as a woman, with a thin layer of iron around the rim, around the rim of the left wheel at least, that on the right had been worn away through usage. Ahead of the cart, four workhorses were harnessed to its long central tug, but not very efficiently. The cart had been designed for two horses and although someone had extended the tug with a mast of new wood, the improvised tack that joined the front two horses to it pulled cruelly on their necks.

The entire vehicle creaked and swayed alarmingly as it jolted over the paving and I could see why a dozen mutur soldiers had been assigned to keep to the cart, pressing strong hands against the planks of its back and sides as though staunching a wound.

Once past the cart, the road was clearer. Stretched along the route as far as I could see were the poor and wounded of our army, with their donkeys, cows, pigs, geese and dogs. Among them, somewhere, were Arnulf and Cateline and indeed, after some careful riding through lines of brown-cowled monks and peasant families with their children, I came to my friends.

'Guibert. A welcome sight!' Arnulf was hobbling beside our small transport, using a crutch to keep the weight from his wounded leg. Even at his clumsy pace, he was still moving faster than the treasure cart. Holding the bridle of a donkey, Cateline gave me a smile and my heart beat faster for it. I'm sure I smiled in return, despite the fact that I was uncertain how I should act. Had she been a servant girl, we would pretend nothing had happened. Yet this was different. This time, I was proud of the fact that Cateline was... what? My lover? My betrothed? It was a new situation for me.

In his pale blue tunic, arms and neck exposed, Arnulf looked relaxed despite his efforts with the crutch. 'Well? What happened?'

'Nothing.' I tossed the reins of the pony to Cateline who caught them and tied them to our cart.

'You are your own man these days and I've no sway over you any more. Yet I could have told you it was a waste of effort. And a dangerous enterprise too.'

'I don't regret making the attempt.'

'Count Stephen has been seeking you,' said Cateline.

'He is up ahead?'

'With five knights he forms the vanguard,' Arnulf shook his head, 'no doubt they will want you to ride with them too.'

'Just five? Robert was right then.'

'Aye, there are other knights of Count Stephen's among the wounded who will ride again one day, God willing. But not many.'

'I'll go on up, so.' This was in any case my aim, since I felt it urgent to report Duke Carisbald's warning.

'Guibert.' Cateline called out. 'Whatever tasks they have for you, remember you need time to hunt too.'

'Indeed, well said. Can you pass me my bow and quiver?'