The Retreat (medieval historical fiction)

Chapter 24 A Strength Laid Waste

That evening, safely on the west bank of the Kee, the army ate well from the bishop's supplies. On our platters was soft bread for the first time since Devinium and with it strips of fried pork. Gathered at our campfire were a large and – as the wineskin passed around – an increasingly merry gathering. Although I had done nothing to encourage them, all sorts of lowly persons now seemed to think it was their right to sit at my fire and listen as I told Arnulf and Cateline about the battles in the solar. Nor did I mind it, as I once would have. Had they not all done their part in this expedition? Hadn't they fought in the ambush and turn the battle in our favour?

'That's a lesson in greed. That's taught the sodding bishop.' A thin, grey-haired peasant even had the confidence to comment on my words.

It felt as though I had become a part of their world as much as they a part of mine. And that too was something that pleased me. I had found that having the approval of the people was no bad thing, even if my tutors had told me never to seek the praise of the fickle mob.

Around me, many others said 'aye' and 'that's right'.

'No,' said Arnulf, sitting under the lee of the tipped-down cart, equine face shining pale in the firelight. 'That's not right. It's your greed speaking now. It would be better that we'd paid the bishop and had a free passage to France. Now, we are in great danger from King Henry.'

'King Henry can kiss my ass!' The large woman who had led our pony and cart while I had gone in search of Cateline shouted this and drew a great cheer in response.

'Is it true, Lord Rocadamour, that the bishop was going to make us serfs again and work for him?' Another poor man my father's age (perhaps a leatherworker to judge from the tools at his belt), looked directly into my eyes.

'The bishop asked for serfs. Gerard told him everyone here was free...' I began.

'That's right!' A dozen voices.

'But that did not end the matter. For the bishop demanded so much silver for the crossing that he thought you would not be able to pay and would prefer to become his serfs than risk the march downriver.'

'There's scum for you.'

'At the top, isn't it always thus?'

Outside of my hearing, had they always talked thus, the poor people on this expedition? That last comment, by a youth no older than me, would have cost him his ears if he'd spoken such words at my father's court.

'Here, now. Show some respect for Lord Rocadamour.' There was a sheen of sweat on Arnulf's brow and he spoke with some anger.

'Begging your pardon,' said the lad to me, 'of course I did not mean present company. It's just that I was a serf on the fields of Lord Theobald of Brittany and he was a hard taskmaster.'

'What are you going to do then, when you get home?' I asked him.

'Well, I'm not going back to Brittany, that's for sure. They say all men live in brotherhood at Jerusalem. I will use my share of the silver to buy passage over the sea to the Holy Land.'

This sparked a general discussion as to plans each person had for his or her return home. Some wished to buy land, or a burgess plot in a town; others a few animals. A few, like the young man, had not lost hope of reaching Jerusalem.

Seeing that the people were set for a long and lively night and feeling my stomach ache from the fighting that morning, I took my blankets from their pile beside our cart and lay down to sleep. I was soon feeling languorous, despite the increasingly loud voices around me. But then, Cateline came and lay beside me, sharing my blanket. It was a pleasure and a comfort to feel the warmth of her body alongside me and in order to let her know this, I caressed her face gently.