The Retreat (medieval historical fiction)

Chapter 14 He Soweth Discord

Up the road, a surprisingly long way up the road, all was schism and strife. Gerard and Count Stephen had caught up with the mutur at the east bank of the Reiber. There, the ferryman had delayed Rainulf's men by cutting loose his ferry rather than surrender it. Pretending to be bringing the flat-bottomed craft across the river in response to the cries of the mutur, the man had stopped half way and hacked through the connecting ropes while the mutur howled and attempted to kill him with arrows. Soon enough the ferry had been plucked from its guide ropes by the river's powerful current and borne away, twisting and rocking on the dark river. The ferryman, so I learned, had then escaped both the mutur and the river by clinging to the guide ropes and pulling himself to the west bank.

Hampered by a lack of proper tools, the mutur had spent most of the night working to build a raft strong enough to carry their horses. And before the new ferry was complete, the vanguard of our army had ridden up to them in the form of Count Stephen and his five knights. Not long afterwards, Gerard and his men arrived at the river crossing, in disciplined formation.

Thus, the scene when Jacques and I drew up. Beside the river, standing with weapons in hand in front of the partly constructed raft, were the mutur. Their scowling faces were lit by the torches they had erected and by those held by people in the half circle of men and women who faced them. On the road nearest the mutur were Count Stephen and his knights on horseback. The forest at this crossing had been cleared back in years past, to some twenty yards distance from the water and this gave room for Gerard's men to fan out on either side of Stephen, their lines curving to reach the river bank and contain the mutur.

Then, there were our crowds of elderly people, women, children, monks and nuns. These people were rightly furious with the mutur and they held once more the improvised weapons with which they had fought King Bratislav. They stood behind Gerard's men, filling out the ranks of footsoldiers and in contrast to the sombre silence of the professional warriors, these angry people were shouting rebukes and jeering at the mutur for their plight.

It seemed to me that soon there would be fighting and that I had arrived just in time to assist Gerard and Count Stephen.

As I walked the stallion towards the front of the army, the people beneath me fell silent and moved to give me room. In their eyes was expectation.

'Rocadamour, you are most welcome sir!' Count Stephen exclaimed as I halted among his men. He gestured towards Rainulf. 'As you can see, we have found the mutur. And the advantage is ours.' Count Stephen's wrinkled face formed a grin of stern satisfaction. 'They cannot cross the river until they complete the raft. And that is not possible for them now.'

'We all need to cross and soon, for no doubt Prince Slavniak is marching close behind us.' I found myself looking back down the road into the blackness of the forest, as though even now I might even see our enemies arriving.

'True, young Rocadamour. But the question is, will we take that raft and complete it with the agreement of the mutur or will we have to cut them down first?'

I looked at the front ranks of the mutur, all hard men, all holding great axes or two-handed hammers. Count Stephen had immense confidence in the capabilities of his knights if he thought besting the mutur would be a simple matter.

Pushing through the crowds towards us were Gerard, Melinde and Andreas. A large group of interested onlookers gathered around our group.

Melinde was the first to speak. 'This is no place to tarry. We must be across that river before Prince Slavniak finds us and we have many carts and animals. Think on this. If we manage five crossings and back an hour, we will be doing well. That's mayhap twenty crossings before dawn.'