Relics bp-1

by Pip Vaughan-Hughes

  Kervezey's voice shook me free of numbness. I dimly thought to shove Thorn into my boot before I was off, running – half hopping, half flailing like a madman – through the grove and onto the hillside beyond. I was well past caring who followed. 'There he goes!' It was Tom this time.

  A bolt sighed past, and floated out into space over the sea. It was dawn now, and Hrinos was glowing pink. There was the place where I had climbed up onto the ridge. Another bolt rattled at my feet and made me glance down. Instantly I lost my balance and sprawled. I tried to stand but this time the wounded leg had stopped working. I could see the edge of the slope. I began to crawl, arm over arm, dragging the useless leg. Voices and footfalls were coming up fast. I was almost there. It was too late. There was turmoil all about. Someone kicked me hard in the stomach and rolled me over.

  There was a ring of faces above me. Tom and the other man from last afternoon. Two others, shaven-headed Balecester men. And a slight man, with dark hair and a jutting beard, and one slate-grey eye. What have we here?' drawled Sir Hugh de Kervezey. 'It's a bloody blackamoor!' spat one of the men. Wipe his face,' ordered Kervezey.

  Hard hands grabbed my hair, and Tom's companion spat in my face and rubbed, cursing as his palms came away black. He spat again and ground the warm spittle into my cheek.

  'Fuck me, it's the lord from yesterday,' he croaked, drawing back in shock. Kervezey squatted down at my head and cocked his good eye at me like a great falcon. 'This is Lord Arenberg? I do not think so. Get him up.'

  The man who had wiped my face caught me under the shoulders and dragged me to my feet. I felt like a dead bird in his grip. Kervezey pulled out a silk kerchief and rubbed off the last of the lamp-black. Well met, Petroc of Auneford,' said Kervezey.

  Now I could see his face properly. His right eye, where Saint Euphemia had stuck her finger, was sewn shut. But the left one had me pinned. 'Sir Hugh,' I said.

  'It seems I taught you well,' he went on. 'If I had but realised you had such talent as a thief I would have kept you on. But now you lift coffin lids for Monsieur Jean de Sol. And you did a very nice job for us back there.' 'Thank you.'

  'Ah, yes, and thank you, Petroc, for doing the truly blasphemous work for me, just like before. I don't really like pinching things from off the altar, you know. But you, on the other hand: no such qualms. I have the relic. But I also have business with Jean de Sol.' 'Of what nature?'

  You have changed, Petroc. The nature of my business with Monsieur de Sol does not concern you.'

  'But I know your business. I know who you are. I know what you want.' You know who I am?'

  You are the Bishop's bastard. And you are as greedy as that fat pig your father. You schemed to catch the man you call Jean de Sol for his wealth and for his business. You meant to trap him at Dartmouth, with me as bait. Now it seems you have failed to do so here.'

  He had flinched at the word 'bastard', and I could see he was mastering his anger with difficulty.

  'Not at all. The trap is already sprung. You played your hand early, but meanwhile we were watching you from the mountain top. Now I have the saint, and I am about to take your ship. Show him.'

  I was yanked around to face the sea. There was the Cormaran, far below. She had put out from Hrinos and was half-way across the channel. And there, coming up fast from the south, a narrow craft like a giant water-boatman scurried on long banks of oars towards her.

  'A galley. Very fast. Built in Venice and better in these waters than de Sol's barge. And a good English crew.'

  I was too tired for this nonsense, and I was not scared any more. There was nothing left of me save hatred and contempt for the man who was making sport of the last minutes of my life. Perhaps if I taunted him back he would finish this.

  "Yes, they've served you well so far. Your crossbowman made a miraculous shot in the wood.'

  The man who held me jerked my arms almost out of their sockets. Kervezey winced. 'Poor Wynn. We had to finish James off too, you know. He was a standing corpse – still breathing. I made Tom do it. He needed some blood on his hands, that boy. But you are right. When I take the good monsieur's ship I will have his secrets, and his cargo, and his expert crew. I had even hoped to have his best thief, but that seems to be you and unfortunately I have long had other plans for Master Petroc.' 'I'm sure I can guess what they are. Please make it quick.'

  'Oh no, I wouldn't dream of it. You have led me a merry dance, monklet. First Dartmouth, then Bordeaux, then Pisa. Did your friend – it was William of Morpeth I struck, was it not? I am a tolerably better shot than Fulke here – did he live? No matter. You are the one with the debt to pay. You owe me an eye, first and foremost. I will take it, and then its fellow. Then, I think, you will come with me to where I can winkle all the useful knowledge from you. If there is anything left of you after that, well yes, I might make it quick then. But for now, watch.' You did not have to kill William.'

  'No, I did not have to.' He sounded peevish. 'I could have shot you instead. Or old brother skin-and-bones, or indeed the Frenchman. But I was angry with William. I gave him his life, and he turned on me. Not a hard choice, in the end… And a killing shot, I gather! Now shut your mouth and watch.'

  He put his arm around my shoulder and whispered in my ear. 'See how my ship is gaining on de Sol? We will ram him and board him, and then we shall stroll down to the beach and deal with your friends. I would like you to watch with one eye at least.'

  It was quite beautiful, the two boats like toys on the perfect water. Kervezey was right: his galley was faster than the Cormaran. It would catch them amidships any second. The men around me were craning their necks, and the thug's grip on my arms went slack for a moment. His hot breath played on my neck and I felt a sudden burst of hot anger. Every nasty trick I had reluctantly learned from Horst and Dimitri unfurled before my mind's eye like illuminations on a page, and surrendering myself to them I slammed my head back into his face. He gasped and let go. From the corner of my eye I saw Kervezey reaching for something, a knife surely, and with all my might I threw myself at him. We hovered for a long moment above the sea and then went over the edge together.

  For an instant we were weightless, and then my bum hit gravel and we were sliding feet first down the almost sheer hillside, crashing through scrub. I could see a goat path below. We reached it, and the impact stood me upright for a moment. Kervezey had broken free but we were plunging down again, rolling this time. Then another path, and a big bush caught me. I lay on my back, the sky impossibly lovely overhead, and saw that Tom and the other men were dropping towards me like angels cast out of heaven, wreathed in dust and flying pebbles. I couldn't see Kervezey. Forcing myself through the thorny twigs I set off again, leaping down the scree, trying to land on my good leg. I could see the white of the cove down there, so near. Another goat path. I landed wrong on my wounded leg and it crumpled. I could hear clattering just above me and hurled myself over the edge. I tumbled, out of all control. Then an arm caught me round the neck and there were two dead weights hurtling through space, through a chaos of whirling sky, sea, rocks and leaves. I tried to fend the man off and caught hold of his collar. His face came round and it was Kervezey. Then we were lost again. I heard voices above and below us, muffled and lurching like music heard from a distant room. My head banged against something firm. A man's leg: I saw red garters crossed over white cloth flash past, then another pair of legs in green boots. Zianni was proud of his boots. We bounced, flew and crashed down again. I felt myself fly clear of Kervezey's grip. The sky flared silver and went out.

  It was a scent that brought me back, sweet but stinging and distantly familiar. I opened my eyes. I was lying under a big bush with grey leaves. Small pink flowers with yellow throats shone about me. I could not place the smell, but it made me happy and I smiled, split lips leaking blood into my dry mouth. Then I felt round cobbles beneath me. I was on the beach. I sat up. My head was ringing and one ear was plugged with blood, but above me I could hear shouting and the peal of s
word against sword. I looked up: a body was rolling wildly towards me. Slack limbs flailing, it fetched up against a boulder and lay still, shaven head at a grotesque angle. The duelling men were wreathed in dust and too far away to make out faces, but as I watched two of them crashed together and fell, and only one rose. I could not lie here and watch my friends fight for their lives, so I began to crawl back up the path. Then I remembered the ships and looked back. Between me and the water a ragged shape limped towards me. I saw the delicate, bloodied lips and one grey eye gleaming through a mask of white dust.

  Kervezey reached behind his back and drew a dagger, a long, thin poignard. He held it loosely in front of him, hefting it as though guessing its weight. He was favouring his right leg, but he could still smile.

  'Come here, Petroc,' he said. 'Come here! You can't get away. Time to pay up.'

  I fumbled in my boot and pulled out Thorn. Kervezey's eye widened.

  'Shauk! So you stole my knife as well, you little shit. Give her back.'

  Blood from my nose was leaking into my mouth. The saltiness was reviving. I spat and wiped my face with the back of my knife hand. 'This is my knife. If you want her, take her!'

  I hurled the words at him, and he lunged. I was barely upright, leaning against the sheer side of the path, and rolled out of his way. I pushed off and staggered down the pebbles. At least my leg was locked straight. Kervezey had spun round and the poignard was pointing at my face.

  Your eye, boy, your eye,' he chanted. His knife, thin as a spear of grass, was dancing in the light. He lunged again and I caught the blade with my own and turned it, tottering backwards and slashing at him as he went past. Thorn cut a dark swathe through dust-pale cloth.

  You've kept her sharp for me,' Kervezey croaked. His blade was cutting little circles in the air between us. 'Ha!' He feinted, and as I flinched he laughed. You've given me good sport and led me to my prize. Should I forgive you my eye, Petroc? Forgiveness! What did your priestly studies tell you about that, eh? Eh?'

  He feinted again, and again I flinched. Quick as a snake he darted at me. I tried to parry but his hand slid up the underside of my arm and the blade caught me in the web of my armpit. Thorn was caught under his arm and I kicked out and swung him off me. It was his turn to stagger and I slashed him across the chest, catching the base of his neck and opening another rent in his tunic. He shouted in pain and I stabbed again. As I lunged he ducked, butted me in the stomach with his head and threw me over his back. I rolled down the cobbles and into the water, the brine flooding every rip and rent in my body and setting me alight with pain. I writhed, weighed down by my clothes and trying to escape the torment, as Kervezey picked his way towards me. I had made it onto hands and knees when he reached down and grabbed me by the front of my tunic, pulling me up until I knelt at his feet.

  'It was just a game, monklet. You were never meant to win. Now keep still.'

  His grip moved to my throat and he forced my face up to meet his gaze. His finger was on the blade of the poignard as he sighted along it. All I could see was a glittering shaft of steel and at its apex, Kervezey's grey eye. A red spark flashed there and suddenly he let go. 'Oh, my lord God.'

  He still stooped over me, but he was transfixed by something over my shoulder. The poignard wavered. I brought my hand up to grab it and found that I still held Thorn. Taking her in both fists I rammed her up under Kervezey's ribs. He gave an odd little hiccup and I stabbed him again. I felt the poignard blade brush my neck, and then it fell into the water and Sir Hugh turned his head back to me. Something that could have been a smile worked at the corner of his white lips.

  'I think you have killed me, Petroc,' he gasped, and a bubble of blood welled up and speckled us both. With my own little knife. I never thought it…'

  He began to shudder, and his eye roved as if in urgent quest of something hidden in my face. I felt his hands pluck feebly at my chest and as I flinched he leaned his forehead gently against mine, took a shuddering breath and died. I pushed him off and he fell back, arms outstretched on the white pebbles.

  I turned slowly to see what had saved me. There, not three furlongs away across the mirrored calm, a long-boat flowered from stem to stern with a great blossom of orange fire. The great dark shape of the Cormaran was pulling slowly, calmly towards me. I could see the water as it dripped from the oars. Someone was calling me. I couldn't even turn my head as Pavlos stepped into the ripples and sat down beside me. He laid a cloak across my shoulders and pulled me against him, and I began to cry, deep, wrenching sobs that would not stop. I cried for Will, for Cordula, for James among the olives, for all the blood that seemed to be flowing from me into the endless salty sea.

  Chapter Twenty

  ‘Greek fire!' Anna was beside herself with joy. 'It was Greek fire, do you see?' 'I don't even know what that means,' I rasped.

  'The most terrible weapon of the Romans,' she explained, bouncing on her heels. 'It is a secret known only to us. Trust the Captain to have some to hand. He won't tell me how he came by it. Not very surprising, really: my uncle would have his guts as bootlaces for even knowing the recipe.'

  I was lying on a pallet on top of the stern castle. We were two days out from Koskino and sailing among the little islands of Dalmatia. Isaac had patched me up while I slept, and I had been asleep since Pavlos carried me aboard the Cormaran. Nizam had kept watch over me through the days and the warm nights, and had been the first to bring me cold water when I woke. I had not wanted to talk at first, so he waved away anyone who started up the ladder. Now and then he would name one of the islands that floated by: Lastovo, Susak, Vis. Finally the Captain had come to sit beside me. 'I owe you a great debt of gratitude,' he said. 'How so?'

  'For ridding me of Sir Hugh. And I also owe you my abject apology. I did not think they would attempt to steal our relic from the shrine, and I certainly did not believe that Kervezey would be with them when they did.'

  'As I was foolish enough to volunteer for the task, no apologies are needed,' I reminded him. He looked rueful.

  'But what about Kervezey's ship?' I asked suddenly. You knew about that?'

  'No. That is, I knew he must have a fast ship, because he beat us to Koskino, but not an armed galley. His father has deeper pockets than I ever suspected. No, we saw Kervezey's red lantern on the mountain, then your light, and we realised something was amiss. I put out from Hrinos to take you off the island or to reinforce Pavlos, and it was lucky I did, for we saw the galley coming down the channel towards us. It would have surprised us at anchor otherwise, and we might not be taking our ease now if that had happened.' 'I am sorry about Cordula. I failed you after all.'

  He smiled and shook his head. 'No, no. The outcome… I could not have wished for a better one. We are rid – you have rid us – of a dangerous enemy. And we at least have the false saint.' He noted my look of surprise. ‘We had a fair wind, so after we took you off the beach we sailed around to the town, just in time to catch three very surprised Franks, standing on the dock with a long bundle. They took one look at Dimitri and handed it over with great haste.'

  It was then that Anna, who had crept up the ladder in fine disregard for Nizam's warnings, added her information about the fire of the Greeks.

  'But what is it?' I asked, despite myself. I still did not want to dwell on what had happened.

  'I am not giving up any more secrets,' laughed the Captain. 'But very broadly speaking, it is a fire that, once lit, burns even on water and will destroy anything that it touches. Two pots of it, dropped on their deck just as they were about to ram us, and they were lost. And so were we, almost. The men had to row like devils in hell to pull us away in time.'

  'It was incredible,' Anna broke in. 'The whole deck went up in flames. The-' She stopped. 'Really, it was horrible,' she went on, sober now. 'The men at the oars couldn't get out. I think most of the deck crew got off, but the oarsmen… only a few got free. They screamed and screamed. But it was over quickly. She burned to the waterline in minutes.
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