“Mademoiselle!” I bowed. “If I can be of help … ?”
“Oh, you can! You can! I must not be taken!”
“Come then.” I took her hand and helped her through the grass, something she was perfectly capable of doing without me, but I have observed the easiest way to reassure a woman is simply to be courteous, as with anyone else.
Julot glanced up from the fire as we appeared in the opening. He stared as if he could not believe his eyes. “Ah, Kerbouchard! There is no one like him!” he said ironically. “He goes into a dark forest at daybreak and returns with a beautiful woman! It is easy to see you are a sailor’s son!”
“We must go,” I said, and explained. My horse rolled her eyes at the lady but did not object when I put her into the saddle. She had an understanding rare among beasts.
33
It was dark when we reached the village. On the skyline beyond the cluster of houses and the trees loomed the towering keep of Castle Blandy. The hour was past sundown, and the houses were shuttered and dark. Travelers by night were rare and not welcomed in the small villages. God-fearing folk were in their homes or inns before darkness, and only thieves, vagabonds, and evil things roamed the night.
The streets were muddy from recent rains, and our horses’ hooves made no sound. The cottage of the man we sought lay at the edge of town, bordering on the lands of the chapel. Julot rapped upon the door.
There was a cautious movement within, and Julot spoke softly. “Fat Claire is our friend.”
“What do you seek?”
“Sanctuary and freedom.”
The gate opened then, and we rode in. Persigny stared hard at the woman, but seemed reassured when he looked at Julot.
“Who are you?”
“I am Julot, a student of Paris, and a friend of Fat Claire’s.”
“And the lady? One of Claire’s?”
“No!” My tone was sharp. “Truly a lady, but one who must be far from here before another day is gone.”
“Inside!” He gestured toward the door, then took our horses to the stable for water and grain.
The floor was stone-paved, unusual in the houses of peasants—if he was one. Obviously, it was very ancient, and the walls were thick. The shutters seemed formed from solid boards and fit snugly, allowing no light.
A woman brought a steaming dish of stew with large chunks of meat and many vegetables. She also brought an earthenware jar containing wine. As we ate, Julot explained our plight, and Persigny listened without comment. It was my feeling he had assisted in many such ventures and was not surprised. He was a tall man with a tuft of gray curly hair atop his head, a sparse beard on a thin, ascetic face.
“They have no patience with freethinkers,” he commented, “and we have already been alerted to watch for you.” He glanced at Julot. “You have not been identified, so when you leave him, you are safe.”
His attention went to the girl. “You, madame, are in serious trouble.”
He turned to me. “This lady is the Comtesse de Malcrais, bride of Count Robert, possessor of vast estates in the Holy Land.”
“This man was not involved in my transgressions—if such they are to be called. I fled into the forest, and he helped me.”
“Nonetheless, he has been seen with you this day. From what I hear of the Count he will not believe your meeting was accident nor your traveling together innocent.”
“Before I return to him,” the Comtesse said quietly, “I will kill myself. It was not by my choice that I became his wife, nor am I his wife except in name. After we were married he spent the night drinking and fell asleep at the table. I heard his friends laughing because he was drunk on his wedding night, so I fled into the woods.”
“What of your family?”
“My father was master of Saone, one of the greatest Crusader castles in the Holy Land. By marrying me Count Robert becomes its master. He abducted me and brought me here against my will.”
“If you do not protect her,” Julot said, “I shall. I know of this Count Robert. An evil man. He is no husband for a lady such as this.”
Food was prepared for us to take with us. It was doubtful if any had seen us close to the village, but there are always prying eyes, and we could not be certain.
“Where can you go to escape him?” Persigny said. “He is a man of great influence, with the Church as well as the King.”
“I go to Provins. Once there I shall be with friends.”
“To Provins? Ah! Perhaps that makes the problem less difficult. To Provins, indeed. If word has come this far, it will have been carried further. The high roads will be watched.”
“There are back roads, and our horses are swift,” I said.
“Eat,” Persigny said, “and get some sleep. Perhaps I have a way.”
We continued to eat, and for the first time I saw the Comtesse de Malcrais with her hood thrown back. Her hair and eyes were dark, her skin like cream, her lips soft and beautifully shaped. She might have been nineteen, perhaps less, in any event a ripe age for marriage when most were wed at twelve and thirteen.
Her figure was lovely, and she had beautiful, expressive hands. She caught my eyes upon her and smiled, a warm, friendly smile … I would it had been otherwise.
“What has been said is true, and I must warn you. Count Robert will not rest until he has me again.”
“How does it come you were in possession of the Castle of Saone?”
“From my father, but from my first husband, also. A woman cannot hold a castle, and when my first husband was killed, it was necessary for me to marry. It is the custom in the Holy Land for a widow in possession of a castle to marry again, at once, so the castle will have a strong man to defend it. The widow has no choice, for if such castles are to be held against the infidel, it must be as I have said.
“Count Robert envied my husband the possession of Saone and its lands, which pay tribute. I believe it was he who murdered my husband.”
“Murdered?”
“Supposedly by a band of infidels. I think, and Colin thinks, it was Count Robert and his men.”
“Colin?”
“The captain of those who defend the castle, and a good man. It was he who helped me escape, but I was taken again and married in the Church so there could be no question as to the validity of the marriage. Count Robert has enemies in the Holy Land.”
“I dislike to hurry you”—Persigny arose—”but what is to be done must be done by night, and in silence.” We arose, and I gave my hand to Julot who would remain here for a few days, then become a pilgrim wending his way to Paris.
From my saddlebags I took a small, hand-bound book in leather containing my own translations of Lucretius and Suleiman the Merchant.
The first was one of the great philosophical poems of all time, the second the account of a traveler in China, written in 851, containing information about commercial dealings between China and the Moslem world. Suleiman also refers to a strange custom of the Chinese, who used fingerprints as signatures, maintaining no two fingerprints were alike and could not be forged. It was a practice already hundreds of years old in that land.
“Take this,” I said. “I wish it were more.”
“Ah, a book! I have never owned a book. You mean it is mine?”
We parted there, and I followed Persigny into the night, the Comtesse walking beside me, the horses following. We went down a lane between stone barns and hayricks, then crossed a pasture and paused at the edge of a dark wood.
After a moment of listening we followed a narrow path into the wood to the edge of a pool. Beyond it was a grotto. In the distance a large building, no doubt a chateau, loomed against the sky. The pool was divided by a stone wall as were some artificial lakes to facilitate cleaning. On one side of the wall was water, the other side an empty hollow. Walking out upon the wall, Persigny lifted a sluice gate and the water began falling into the empty side of the pool. When the water had emptied, he went down into the hole where the water had been, brushed aside some sodden leaves, and catching hold of an iron ring, a ring that fitted neatly into a crack between the floor stones, he opened a stone door.
Obviously, there were counterweights, for the door swung back easily, revealing a ramp. Motioning for us to follow, he went down the ramp, and he closed the opening behind us. Above, we could hear the water once more falling into the pool.