Everything is a Choice

Chapter 13

Previously....

The hospital turns out not to be a hospital after all, but simply a physician who resides in Marseille and had learned of my plight. 

Allan informs me that another ship had picked up Jehal and those of his crew who escaped the sinking boat a mile or so along the coast and that Jehal had quickly sought passage on a trading galley on its way to the Holy Land.  I also learn, much to my regret, that Salim has joined them; I would have liked the chance to say goodbye and to thank him.  It surprises me that he is willing to head back to sea so soon after our ill-fated voyage, but perhaps he had meant what he said on the rowboat and has learned to face his fears at last.  Certainly, I think he is making a better job of it than I am.

Allan also tells me that Gisborne paid the physician for his services, found lodgings nearby for himself and the gang and acquired five decent palfreys to make the necessary journey across France.  I don’t ask where he got the money.  Allan tells me Gisborne used his ‘influence’. I can just imagine what that influence might be.

Five days later, we saddle up and begin our journey across France, towards Le Havre, and a boat that will take us to England.

Book 2 - Land

Chapter 13

“What do you mean, you didn’t like it?”

“I’m not saying I didn’t like it. I’m just saying it didn’t agree with me.”

“Well, I’m not surprised.  You’re supposed to eat the main course before the dessert, not with it, you chump.”

“Well, how was I to know it was dessert? I can’t read French.”

“You can’t read English either.”

“Neither can you.”

“I can write my own name. You can’t even do that. You wouldn’t recognise your name if it came up and bit you on the nose.”

“Why don’t you just...”

“What?”

“Jigger off!”

Allan and Much are bickering. We had spent the night at a small country inn, found by Gisborne who, every day, come late afternoon, would ride ahead to secure us lodgings for the night. On the days when there were no inns or barns at our disposal we would make camp in woods, tumbledown barns or cottages, or anywhere else that offered a decent shelter.

Our hosts at the inn, L'oieet les Plumes, had not spoken any English and I’d been too tired and unobservant and Gisborne too intent on causing mischief to bother to translate the offered menu. Still, I find some comfort in the fact they are arguing, proving that, unlike my relationship with Much, some things never change. 

“I thought Guy explained it to you.” Allan flicks his eyes guiltily in my direction and I quickly turn my head away, pretend I’m not listening.

Allan, having once been Guy’s man, has fallen into an easy friendship with Gisborne, often ribbing the man for insisting on wearing his leathers even on hot, muggy days; calling him a girl for wearing such long hair and continually threatening to take a pair of cutters to it while Guy sleeps. Guy gives as good as he gets; sniggering when Allan tries to pronounce a French word, pulling him up on his ungrammatical sentences and holding his nose whenever they happen to be riding side by side as a way of saying Allan should bath more.

I have no desire to strike up such a relationship with Gisborne, despite our uneasy alliance on the boat, but I have to admit I’m somewhat envious of Allan and his forgive and forget attitude. Then again, Allan didn’t lose the love of his life because of Gisborne.