216 Days (Violent Delights Book 12)

Chapter 3: The siege according to the Bastard of Vaurus, October 6, 1421

The snow is falling more steadily, covering up the bloody trail from the Market out to the tree. I walk back, slowly. I want to look back at the English camp but I do not. I already saw him standing there upon the hill. They say he has an arrow wound to his face, but I did not see that. But he was taller than the others. Watching me. Good. That's what I want him doing. He's seen me. Now he knows his opponent. It wouldn't be any fun for him, if he didn't see what he was chasing. I just have to make sure he knows I'm worthy.
I walk back to the others, slowly wiping blood from my face with the back of my sleeve. The soldiers dismiss the rest of the innocent defectors, who stare at me with a general sense of horror. They don't know the others were traitors.
"What was that?" Louis has been quiet this whole time so I suppose the reaction is justified.
"English spies, hung nicely in the tree. For Henry," I say, nodding. I was under the impression that was obvious. Clearly not.
"My cousin has an uncanny memory for faces. All the innocuous defectors, have been in Meaux for weeks now, and he instructed any new defectors were to meet him. The spies would have been unaware of the command and simply attempted to enter before we raised the bridges," Denis elaborates.
"Ah," Guy says, staring at the tree, "Why?"
"Same reason you hold a rabbit before a greyhound. He must want to chase me. We are the prey right now, gentlemen. The longer Henry chases us, the longer the Dauphin and his men have to escape, the longer he's kept from the rest of France. We can't kill his army with weapons. We can let our French winter do its work, however," I say, wiping the rest of the blood from my hands on my cloak, "Now, let's go inside. His cannons will be ready soon. And if Melun taught us anything, Henry loves his artillery."
Henry does love his artillery. And Henry it seems is not used to someone taunting him.
The cannon fire starts a bit before darkness falls. Henry is too stingy to assault us with his beloved longbows, but that does not stop him from sending a few flaming arrows over the Marne, and into our Market. I warned the people already of the possibility. Our watch is day and night now. But I have but 1,000 men. And I'll have less when winter sets in. We'll be lucky to make it to spring with two thirds that number. I have to use them wisely which sadly is a gamble of when and where to spend my mens' energy.
And despite my confidence to the others, I have little to go on yet. I knew he'd send the spies that was easy. A simple move, anyone would do it. I'd do it. A king would do it. And the artillery is like a slap across the face he was always going to do that it's nothing clever. And the man who has burned down half my country, is nothing if not clever. No. And he has all the time in the world up there on that hill.
Well, we both do. I have all the time in the world down here. I am home. He'll think of something. I'd like to know what. Every single move he makes tells me more about him. And the more I know. The easier it is for me to rile him. To get to him. I can play him right into my hands. I can play anyone right into my hands.
Bloody, bloody hands.
I look at my hands in the washbasin. The blood curls off, slowly, in elegant spirals. Blood, grit, and dirty from the day, and the blood of the nineteen men. Such a showman, Henry, so very dramatic. Nineteen so I'd look for twenty. A child's move. Did you used to tell your brothers there was another cake in the kitchen, to make them go look? Another sweet hidden? So simple yet so effective. Hope it made you cross I didn't even look for more. I hope you're thinking about me.
"You busy?"
"Come in Aimee, down Charles," I say, glancing over. The dog takes its job to guard the room very seriously. My cousin's mistress is usually in the beast's favor, however it has been known to change its mind.
"He likes me don't you, boy? Why do you call him Charles?" Aimee asks, kneeling to pet the dog.
"Because Denis said to stop calling him Dauphin, no matter how funny I find it," I say, smiling, as she pets the hairy monster.
Aimee is Denis' mistress though I suppose that's sordid. Though I suppose that's what she is. He has had her about since I can remember, even if he has a wife somewhere else. They can't stand each other, him and his wife. I think that's how married folk do. Though I wouldn't know not having been married.
Aimee doesn't mind me, which may or may not be to her credit. She's got no children and lives in the Market. She's a witch the men say. They've asked me to arrest her. I don't know why, people believe in what they like. And I don't do what I'm told.
"I think I told you to leave Meaux," I say, raising my eyebrows.
"Yes, so did Denis. I told him I am not leaving the two of you here alone. Plenty of women are still in the Market, how would all of you survive without us?" She asks, smiling, as she crosses to come and help change the basin. My hands are dripping bloody water.
"Well. I don't know if anyone spoiled the ending for you, but we're not likely to survive," I say.
"You said you were going to win," she says, getting a cloth wet and taking my hands.
"I am. But I'm not going to live through it. It's how the game goes," I say, "Doesn't mean you have to die. You're a reasonable human being and a woman last time I checked. There's something honorable written down somewhere about me saving you."
"Good thing you're not an honorable man then. We'd have to row."
"Yes, rather good thing."
"How long do you think we can last?" She asks.
"Word is Glyndwr held out against Henry for eight months in his Welsh castle. I'm expecting to do as well as a Welshman," I say, shrugging, "The longer the better. I just have to keep him here."
"You have a plan?"
"Oh, I always have plans Aimee. Now seriously, I know Denis thinks he can't tell you what to do, but I can. You know we've got people going out with messages. It'll get harder and harder to break the lines, but the south he's not got well covered yet. You can still get out. And I've got no problem ordering you about or shouting at you. I'll hurt your feelings and strike you so you'll hate me and won't be inclined to care for me at all," I say, tipping my head to make her look into my eyes. Hers are green, and soft. She smiles at me, no fear in those eyes. Never has been.
"I stay with you both. Here in Meaux. Even if it falls. They do not kill the women."
"They rape them."
"Henry thinks himself too noble for that. He has to appear the perfect king," she says.
"Does he?" I frown, "Where do you hear that?"
"The defectors. They said that he will not allow them to rape, and he turns the prostitutes out of camp," she says.
"Does he?" I frown.
"What are you thinking?"
"Deep dark dangerous question, you don't want to go in there. There's bats."
"And blood," she says, dabbing my face with the cloth, "You haven't changed since you were ten, you know. Please don't, I wouldn't recognize you if you didn't end the day covered in mud and filth."
"This is men's blood."
"Yes, thank you, I did notice."
"Hopefully Henry's learning to recognize me."
"Don't," she says, sighing.
"Denis is worth a ransom, because I'm arranging one for him. You pretend to be his nurse or something. There's a little glimmer of light at the end of the tragedy. So long as he thinks he can make money on ransoms, and they don't vex him, Henry will ransom Denis, and Louis and Guy if I can manage it. I wrote to the Dauphin, and my last few contacts in Paris. If we can have them be seen to be valuable then, well, their lives have value."
"What about your father?" She asks.
"My father would pay Henry to kill me."
"You're probably correct."
"Oh, I'm definitely correct. It's my favorite pastime being right about things," I smile, "Now go on. Before Denis gets jealous."
"Denis said to go make sure you were cleaning off properly. He says you scared Guy and Louis today."
I giggle.
"Yes, I'm aware it was intentional."
"Oh, no, this was all for Henry; them was just a bonus. I need them to listen to me, not because I'm right but because Meaux is mine. I swore to protect her. If she falls then it's with me."
"Why is Meaux a she?"
"All precious, and noble, and good things are as I understand," I smile.
"You can be charming when you like you know that?"
"Hm, yes, I'm saving it for an English King, I made him a lovely tree today hope he liked it."
"I saw that. That was sick," she says, getting a clean cloth as she finishes with my face.
"It was funny. I thought it was funny. Watching him watch me was funny."
"I know you think that. Why did you shave?"
"This morning, wanted Henry to be able to recognize me, pick me out; most of the men have beards. Denis has a beard."
"Yes, I know Denis has a beard."
"Well, Englishmen are stupid. Got to make it simple."
"You don't think this English King is stupid."
"No. He's cruel," I say, drying my hands, "I'm not considering him a man. For the purposes of the game."
She sighs a little bit, just staring at me.
"Don't be disappointed in me now. You never really thought I was going to be a good man. Did you? Did we? No, no one thought that. I'm not going to lie to you and say I'm not enjoying myself. In what other world would a bastard get to play cat and mouse, with a king?"
"Denis said there was no talking you out of it. But you could leave with us. Nobody else has your memory for faces. We cut off your hair. When the time comes, you leave with the rest of the villages. I could get the girls, to help smuggle you out."
I smile.
She shakes her head.
"What, you're mourning me already? You're only allowed to mourn me if I lose. Not if I win. If I win then I've won and there's nothing to weep for. And I am going to beat him," I say, "I'm just probably going to die doing it. And I said. I'd be lying if I said this wasn't a brilliant way to go."
She nods, smiling a little. Then she reaches out and scrubs more blood from my cheek, with one soft finger.
"We both know, I'm not leaving."
"Yes, we do," she says, reaching into a pocket of her dress, "Wear this."
"What is it? More of your witchcraft?" I ask, as she holds up a rock, threaded into a necklace, there's a pouch with it.
"I know you don't believe in anything. But I do."
"What is it?" I ask, taking it. Might do Henry good to think I believe in something. For that reason I contemplated wearing a cross. But then I thought if there was a god he'd strike me down for wearing it for that purpose. And I don't take gambles like that.
"A curse. On the man who kills you. Wear it, for me not for you," she says, looping it around my neck, "I know you don't believe in it."
"Will it do you good that I do?"
"Yes."
"Then I do believe in its purpose," I say. They say Henry arrested his father's wife for witchcraft. So I assume he doesn't like it. Then I've not heard of him liking anything but war.
"Thank you," she says, patting my chest.
"Go on now. Going to ruin my reputation," I smile.
"You going to stay up? Listening to the english cannons?"
"Probably and thinking, you've given me half a notion," I say, going back to the window to look out.
"Well. Glad to help," she says, going to the door. She leans down to pet the dog again. He thumps his curved hairy tail. "He's a mess."
"He fits in. Anyway, I don't own him he chooses to stay," I shrug, "His idea. Not mine."
One of the farmers, outside Meaux he couldn't pay the doctor, and the doctor told me as it was an extensive debt. The child had been ill. Anyway, I went to collect. The man had nothing for me to take. He offered me his dog's last puppy. They're for herding sheep. It soothed his pride so I took it. And told the doctor the debt had been paid. The doctor doesn't like me. That will, likely, catch up with me someday. So now a dog follows me around. The farms kept mistaking it for a wolf so I got it a thick red collar.
"Night then," Aimee nods.
"Enjoy the cannons," I say, smiling, "Tell Denis I'm well."
"Are you?"
"Of course," I turn and look out at the dark. There's cannon fire. My job is done. I should stay inside.
I don't.
"Come on, Charles, you want a walk?" I ask the dog, picking up my coat. The dog hops up, shaking its shaggy black coat.
And I leave the garrison. The men don't bother about me. Not once they note my step. Those who are mine are used to me wandering about all hours. Denis said that there's much less robbery now that I walk out of any alley, dagger in hand, any hour of the night. Denis tends to exaggerate.
The fires burn bright on the hills. Yes, the Abby is lit up. So that is where Henry sleeps tonight.
I return to the elm tree. I've used it for hangings before. It's a sturdy tree. Not this many hangings, however, it's up to the task.
I climb easily into the branches. He's surely in bed? Or with his whores? That is what men do. Get drunk and go to their women. Aimee said he turned the prostitutes out of his camp, however. That's an odd thing. But he's nothing if not cruel perhaps he likes toying with his men? Doesn't mean he wouldn't keep them for himself. He has the Dauphin's sister. His wife they say. Because somehow it's pretty to have a nineteen year old girl if the church helped sell her to you. She's a child. I saw her once in Paris, she's little, she'd be half his height. Old enough to be wed, but to a man like him?
They sold her and the crown. So he has her. I'll hazard the guess that the crown was better prize. But hell if he isn't still a mortal man. Mars had his Venus. So Henry has his Catherine. She's a great beauty. They all say he was smitten with her.
So what makes him desire a cold field in France over his marriage bed? He barely had the girl a year before he left her, having his child if the rumors are true. He has plenty of generals to sit in a field in France and play silly games with a little french bastard. Why do it? He's got a beautiful girl at home that's what men want isn't it? So they tell me.
Would I leave her? If I were a king with two crowns and a pretty young girl waiting for me? If the rumors are true a child on the way. To come and wait in a cold, cold Abby. Does he not love the girl? I wouldn't suppose he would love her but lust is a common enough motivator. He's already tired of her and wants a new plaything? Does he find it in the slums of Paris?
"But you're not in Paris, are you, Henry? You're here. With me," I say, softly, staring up at the lights of the Abby, leaned as I am in the tree. The cannon fire going off on all sides. It's hitting the garrison. The people are already hidden in their houses. I gave orders that they shelter in the garrison if the cannon fire got too much, for the children or something.
I look up at the stars overhead, glowing. Like it's a beautiful night. My mother told me stories of sailors finding their way by starlight. Search for the brightest star. Follow it. You'll find your way home. I once dreamed of sailing away on a ship. Far from France. And everything that I am.
But I'm still here.
"And so are you," I say, quietly, "Tell me what you want." So I can take it from you.
Because I do not lose.
I will not lose.
I will die yes.
But I will also destroy him.