Finally, Louis walked to the stout table in the middle of his tent and brought his fist down on it. "I will not leave this camp until Avignon is taken. That is my final word."
"A siege, my lord?" said Gaucelm.
Louis leveled his blue eyes and looked straight into those of Gaucelm. "A siege."
A murmur passed through the tent, slowly, and then Louis issued orders, which were relayed by the lieutenants to the others. Gaucelm stifled a sigh and then went out with Andre to survey the scene. The army began the task of moving from where they had stopped to surround the strong walls.
Andre glanced at his friend with a shake of the head. "Direct assaults will be impossible. There is no weakness in those walls. The ground is hard; mining will be all that much more difficult."
"Indeed," commented Gaucelm. "So we wait. Our army is so strong they won't attempt sorties to run us off. We can patrol the Rhone as well as block land approaches, but I doubt we can cut them off from all supplies."
"True enough. And if they run short of supplies, so will we, with this many mouths to feed."
Gaucelm crossed his arms and stared at the flickering torches along the wall walk and lighting the towers, spaced at intervals. "This is indeed a curious way to begin such a crusade. Let us hope that something happens to change the situation."
Andre was more skeptical. "I cannot think of what that will be."
Into the night the army wagons rolled forward carrying lumber to construct siege towers. A few arrows were hurled at them when soldiers drew too near, but little damage was done. It was simply a matter of both sides settling down to outwait the other. Gaucelm was busy riding about the camp and issuing orders to the various corps. He heard the discontent spoken in low tones behind his back as he rode on.
But Louis followed in his wake, speaking to the men as he went, attempting to rally their pride and explain why they must subdue the stubborn bourgeoisie. It was a battle of wills all the way around.
Andre rode with Gaucelm, doing his duty, but gazing wistfully at the town. He was an urban man and always liked to sample the delights of new places. Bored with the camp followers, he sadly rued that they could not go inside and find a pleasant wine shop. When they rode back to their own tent, Andre said, "It is too bad that we cannot find our way in. Do you not think the king needs some spies? I've a keen desire to get in there, disguised as a bargeman. Do you not think we could better assess their strength and their stores if we made ourselves welcome in a tavern and found the company of some wenches who would talk?"
"You dream," was Gaucelm's reply. "You do not speak their language. They would spot you for what you are."
But Andre's imagination was on fire, as were his loins at the contemplation of some pretty, clean Avignonese women. While Gaucelm had been busy with negotiations, he had gazed into the crowd and had seen some pretty faces. Some had even returned his gaze openly. And he did not believe they would be so prejudiced that he was a Frenchman. These southern troubadours wasted time writing poetry about love to woo their women. Andre had always found women to be more responsive to direct means of expressing his feelings.
"Hmmm," he said, his mind already conjuring a plan. "I do not speak their language, it is true. But you do."
Seventeen
It took only a moment for Andre's proposal to take shape in Gaucelm's mind.
"I do not know that we would gain as much going as spies as if we went as envoys."
Andre stuck a length of reed into his mouth and chewed disconsolately on it. "The king is obstinate. You heard the negotiations. Neither he nor the burghers will give an inch."
"That is true. But perhaps that was because the confrontation was so public. Tempers were high. If both sides have a chance to think on this, they will see the unreasoning behind a lengthy siege. I have not given up hope that a compromise might be reached."
"What do you propose to do?"
Gaucelm glanced behind him at the king's tent, set far enough away so as to be in no danger from the missiles hurled from the city walls.
"Louis will not send us officially. I think, my friend, that we must do as you suggest and go unofficially."
Andre broke into a smile. "And once we are inside?"
"We will seek out the mayor, Master Wykes, and see if we can arrange a private talk with him."
"I like the idea, of course," said Andre. "But do you think it will really help?"
Gaucelm shrugged without enthusiasm. The lines in his face that he had worn since the beginning of this venture seemed permanently carved there.
"We must attempt to put sense into the king's head as well as into these Avignonese," he said. Then his mood lightened slightly as he glanced at Andre. "If it is adventure you want, it seems that the only way to have it will be to do as you suggest and enter the city disguised as bargemen bringing supplies to the beleaguered city."
Andre lifted curious brows. "Well, now, in that case, I believe I best set about finding us a barge and some clothes. Meet me at the western gate of our camp a quarter of a mile north of the bridge just after sundown."
Gaucelm clapped him on the shoulder. "I've no doubt of your resourcefulness. I will be there."
"There will have to be a distraction to get us past our own forces. Perhaps you can arrange a threat that will distract the men blockading the suburb that sprawls on the other side of the river. If we can get through, and get the attention of the citizens on the walls, they'll help us get in that way, for they'll need the supplies we will bring."
Gaucelm queried with arched brows, "And where will you get such supplies?"
"Leave that to me."
Gaucelm spent the next few hours seeing to the arrangements of the siege. But here and there when no one noticed, he strolled to the line of horses tied behind the baggage wagons at a position just where he and Andre would have to break through. He didn't think of it as sabotaging his own army; rather, he was taking matters into his own hands and intervening, because if he did
not, thousands would eventually sicken and starve and time would be wasted.
Sundown found him in his tent where he disrobed down to the short, loose linen breeches, and his padded gambeson, a tunic worn beneath the mail hauberk. He instructed William to see to the tears in his hauberk and to oil and soap his saddle while he went to bathe in the river.
As the camp settled in for the evening, and the women who followed the camp slipped about preparing food and other comforts for their men, Gaucelm left for his rendezvous at river's edge. Carrying towels and ajar of soap, he appeared to be going to bathe. If one wondered why he also carried short bow and a quiver of arrows, it might be supposed that he took weapons to protect himself from any possible ambush.
He passed through the western opening to the river between the earthworks the men had thrown up and continued upriver for a quarter of a mile. When he clambered down the bank and divested himself of the gambeson, he did indeed walk into the water.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a low-floating barge gliding in his direction. Its barrels were stacked high, and it wasn't until it glided up to where he stood that the cloaked bargeman could be seen pushing the barge along with his long pole. As soon as Andre revealed himself, Gaucelm grinned.
"I won't ask how you came by this vessel and its contents," he said. He tossed in his quiver and bow and then hoisted himself aboard. Andre nodded toward a bundle, which turned out to be tunic and cloak for disguise.
"It wasn't difficult to persuade the owner to hire me to take his goods inside when I said I had a way to get past the French lines."
Gaucelm gave a knowing chuckle as he donned the merchant's attire that would make them fit in inside the town. What they attempted was quite serious, and his own skills as informer and negotiator just might possibly help lift this siege before time and
money were wasted, to say nothing of lives. But he could not help but respond to Andre's infectious sense of adventure.
He took up a pole and helped stee
r the barge, which they slowed as soon as they approached the outer limits of the camp. The earthworks stopped just where some of the extra horses were tied up. Now it was time for Gaucelm's diversion.
He strung the bow and aimed at the tree trunk around which wound the rope to which the horses were tied. Little did any of the grooms know that Gaucelm had loosened the halters. The first arrow whacked into the tree, upsetting the horses and causing some of them to rear. The rope came undone, and the animals were loose in the camp. Before the soldiers could identify what had frightened the animals, the barge slipped onward.
The next group of soldiers came down to the bank and Gaucelm stood up, calling out in French and gesturing behind them. "Ambush!" he cried, and sent soldiers running up the bank. Then, with their attention diverted, he aimed again, this time to dislodge a lantern hanging from the front of a wagon. Cries went up as the arrow shaft shattered the lantern and spread fire across the ground.
The return fire landed harmlessly in the water behind the barge, which moved more swiftly now as soldiers ran to the water's edge but turned northward to fend off the attackers they thought came from that direction. Andre poled swiftly as Gaucelm strung another arrow to fend off any who saw through his trickery and came after them. But by the time the confusion turned in their direction, they were under the bridge and within range of the protection offered by the town militia from their ramparts.
"Do not shoot!" Gaucelm called upward in Provencal. "We are merchants from Orange with supplies."
Their ploy worked, and the militia on the ramparts gave covering fire to the French soldiers gathered on the bridge. The barge came alongside the quay and then slid past the curve to where a gate opened to allow them entrance to the stone-paved dock. The gate closed again, and Gaucelm stepped out and tied the barge
to iron rings, while a notary came forward, wax tablet in hand, surprised to see a barge of goods that had slipped past the soldiers. But the man was nevertheless prepared to make an accounting of the goods and collect their tax.
"These goods will serve us well if they are staples to be consumed," said the notary. He was dressed in burnished red tunic with loose sleeves that hung to his thighs. On his head was a purple turban with the end hanging down one side.
"Tell him the barrels contain wine from Vienne," said Andre in French.
Gaucelm explained and added, "My friend here persuaded the merchant to let us make the run past the soldiers. We are from the French army ourselves, but thought it worth the risk to enter the town and seek audience with your mayor."
The notary stared at them aghast. He glanced from the wine casks back to them. "Are you spies?"
Gaucelm gave him a wry look. "We could be. But since we've made no attempt to slip in unnoticed, no. Consider us unofficial emissaries devoted to preventing the waste of lives and resources."
The notary gazed a little wistfully at the wine. "Is that still for sale?"
"By all means," assured Gaucelm. "My friend Andre Peloquin was commissioned by the owner of this barge to take full payment."
"Then I'll send word to the mayor that two Frenchmen wish to speak to him. What are your ranks?"
"We are both knights in the service of the king. I am Sir Gaucelm Deluc. Lately lieutenant to Simon de Montfort," he added, thinking to frighten the notary enough to make him realize just who he was dealing with.
The notary scurried off to send word and then returned to offer one of his servants to escort them to the mayor's house. They placed the barge in the care of the notary, though Andre insisted that they might be cheated if they did not wait for a receipt. The casks accounted for to his satisfaction and the money paid, he
then assented to accompanying Gaucelm through the streets of Avignon to do what they had come for.
On their walk, they took notice of the prosperity of the place. Butchers, bakers, and vendors of all kinds seemed well stocked. And from the lack of panic as the townspeople went about moving siege machines in place and stacking up missiles, they were not afraid of defending themselves. The town would not fall easily.
Master Wykes's house was a four-story stone house with steeply pitched shingled roof. They entered the ground floor anteroom, where an open door to the side led to the counting room. The notary's servant went up to say who was calling, and in a moment he returned and sent them up.
Gaucelm and Andre climbed the steep flight of stairs and came out into the hall. A plump, matronly woman in rich clothing came forward.
"Please come in," she said. "My husband will be here directly. May I get you refreshments while you wait?"
They accepted wine and sat down in sturdy wooden armchairs before the fire. From another door leading to a kitchen on the other side of the chimney came tantalizing smells. The mayor's wife informed them that a meal was being prepared and they were invited to join in.
"What do you think we can accomplish here?" mused Andre, happier now that he had been given good-tasting wine for his trouble.
Gaucelm shrugged and sipped his wine more slowly. "One never knows, but it is worth a try. This siege will eat up months with both sides so obviously prepared for it."
There were steps on the stairs, and then Master Wykes entered the hall and crossed to them.
"Ann," he said. "My wife told me I had important visitors and I recognize your faces from this morning. Yet you are not dressed as knights of the king's army now. I am curious as to what brings you here."
He accepted a goblet of wine which his silent wife had brought
him and then gestured for her to leave the ewer within their reach as she retired. Then he seated himself with his two unexpected guests and talked softly so that any servants who might happen to be near would not overhear.
"I am surprised to see two French knights walk so boldly into my house. What makes you think I will not summon the militia and keep you hostages?"
"Do not think that we did not come here armed," said Gaucelm, though it was not a threat. "We would not make it easy for your militia to take us hostage. But in any case, we took you to be a man of honor. We are here because we wish to put off a siege in which both sides will suffer. Our lives are not worth so much to Louis that he would humble himself and bow to your wishes merely to save our skins. He has other good knights in his army, in fact, a good number of them. No, we took the risk because we perceived you to be a man of reason."
The serious burgher leaned back in his chair and shook his shaggy head with an expression of complete irony.
"I find my home to be the refuge not only of yourselves but of another august negotiating party here to gain information and offer advice. Is it not strange?"
Gaucelm's skin prickled and he repeated what Master Wykes had said for Andre's benefit. Then he inquired as to who the other party was.
Their host considered for a moment and then said, "I have offered my protection and promised I would not reveal their presence. I'm afraid I will have to let them decide whether they wish to make their presence known and so converse with you."
Gaucelm watched the mayor carefully. "I take it you have been visited by nobility of the South who have a vested interest in the outcome of this siege."
Wykes lifted a hand in a shrug, but did not comment further. Gaucelm was quick to understand the implications.
"Might not these noblemen be here to influence you against the king?"
There was a trace of wry humor in the corners of the stout
burgher's mouth that Gaucelm had difficulty interpreting. He had the distinct feeling that he was at a disadvantage.
"Perhaps," said Gaucelm, "it would be best for all of us to meet together to see what can be done. Ofttimes enemies have better luck negotiating when it is done by men of middle rank rather than kings and counts who are too stubborn to see sense."
"I do not disagree with you, sir. And for myself, I am glad to listen. But I shall have to consult my guests, who have named themselves honorary advisors."
Gaucelm frowned, irritated th
at he had been beaten here by someone from the opposing side. He would not leave, however, without making his point.
"It does Avignon little good to hold out against the king. Agreements were reached to let him pass. His argument is not with you."
"True," said Master Wykes. "But he has no authority here. Avignon pays homage to the Holy Roman Empire."
"I would warn you that jurisdictions are often uncertain. Would it not be wise to do as Louis asks and make sure he bears you no grudge? If you open your gates now, I'm sure it will quell his anger and he will do little more than demand a show of apology and perhaps some slight fines. But if you wait it out, you will be sorry. He is determined."
Wykes seemed to listen attentively, but all he would say was, "It is not my decision alone. I will call the council together, though it is late. We will go to the guildhall and you can present your case. I guarantee you will have a fair hearing."
"And will your southern friends join us?"
Master Wykes rose, indicating the interview was ended for the present. "That depends on their wishes. Come. My wife is ready to oversee supper. Sup with us, you will need your strength."
While the trestle tables were being laid and platters and trenchers brought in, Gaucelm quickly translated what had transpired for Andre's sake. Then the burgher's solemn children joined them and they all took their places. Gaucelm did not miss the trays
that were carried from the kitchen up the wide staircase to a third-floor landing. He narrowed his eyes. The mysterious noblemen from the South must be residing in upper rooms and were not ready to make their presence known.
"Who do you think would have traveled this far to spy on the king's army?" Gaucelm said in a low voice to Andre, who was gnawing on a turkey drumstick.
After wiping his chin with the tablecloth, Andre turned his mind to the matter. "Someone who considered it very important to know just what kind of threat we pose, no?"
The troubadour's song Page 23
