The Retreat (medieval historical fiction)

Chapter 12 An Empty Road

Dawn in the forest was sudden and violent. Not in regard to the coming of light, for that was a subtle and slow change through many hues of grey. The heralds of the new sun were the birds of the trees. And when they gave voice, they did so as one and it was as though their numbers were greater than the grains of sand upon a beach. Above, to the sides, up and down the road, they whistled, screeched, cawed and shouted their existence.

Only those of our army who had died during the night failed to wake to such a gale of sound. I opened my eyes to see Cateline looking at me. Her face was wan with fatigue.

'I wish I could sleep for days at a time,' she said tiredly.

'Well you shall. When we reach Rocadamour, we shall spend entire days in bed.'

Her smile was sad. 'I do not think it likely we shall escape this grim forest, but if we do, I cannot envisage myself in a bed of fine linen with you, living like a lady.'

'I'll insist upon it, no matter what Father says.'

'You misunderstand. It is me for whom such a scene is not appealing, whether your father would agree to it or no. I have not been brought up for courtly life and ...'

'And?'

'I lay with you because you deserved it, for what you did for us. And also because I think we will all be dead soon. Why not enjoy a little sweetness while we can? But I'm not some farmer's daughter with designs upon a local knight.'

'No. I never thought that.'

'You are brave, Guibert. You fight and you ride like a man. But in every other respect you are still a boy.' Already, she had buttoned up her tunic and had risen from our bed of fern. She turned from me, to concentrate upon blowing the fire into wakefulness. Flushed and dismayed by her words, I did not respond, but watched as Cateline took a clay pot from our cart and left the road in the direction of the stream the army had camped by. What did she mean? That I was too childish to be her lover? My heart beat wildly with anger and hurt.

From underneath the cart, Arnulf gave a groan then came into view. 'Cateline is a fine young woman.'

'You listened?' I responded, aggrieved.

'How can I not? You are right beside me.'

'Well. Cough or make some noise, so as not to eavesdrop.'

'In any case, I have spent the last two days in her company and she is quite remarkable.'

Despite my embarrassment that Arnulf had been witness to an exchange that had stirred up hot waves of shame in me, I was curious. 'How so?'

'There are people in this world so filled with dark humours that they can never be happy, regardless of their advantages. Then there are people like Cateline, who despite cruel blows from fate, enjoy what opportunities for joy life gives them. And she is brave and wise in many practical ways.'

'She would make a good lady wife?'

'I believe she would... If you can win her.'

'Would you say that to Father?'

'I would.' Arnulf rubbed at his greying moustache, somewhat ruefully. 'But the strongest argument for allowing Cateline to be your lady I dare not raise with Lord Rocadamour.'

'Which is?'

'Which is that his own mother was a miller's daughter, bedded by the first Guibert.'

'Oh.' I sat up. 'I remember her, a little. She was buried with great ceremony in our church. All the nobles of our province were there.'

'Exactly.' He lowered his voice as Cateline neared, 'But I say no more on it.'