Sir Geoffrey raised a hand to six of his Templars who strode out of the Fore building and across the drawbridge towards the guard tower. They entered and raised the portcullis and opened the doors to the steps and made their way to the bottom. As instructed three went to the right and three to the left. Although there were rebels watching on the cross wall gate there were no rebels to be seen in the inner bailey.
De Capo and the three knights made their way down the steps and walked past the cross wall gate house. The gates themselves were shut and the four men slowly walked about the base of the Keep and looked up to see what damage had been caused by the bombardment of the trebuchets.
‘They built it to last,’ FitzAlan said, ‘the rocks won’t knock this down,’ he stopped and looked down at the ground, ‘you know what this means don’t you?’
De Capo nodded, ‘Aye, they’ll try and mine, same as John did.’
They continued to walk around the Keep and pointed out the damage to each other. Shards of rock had been broken off the walls, in particular around the loop holes and the garderobes. In addition the crenulations on the south curtain wall and the south east drum tower were damaged. Chunks of masonry were littered around the base. Some of the stones had bounced off and landed the other side of the curtain wall in the moat, while several had bounced back to the bottom of the hill. By the time they reached the south west corner a number of the kitchen hands and cooks had started to prepare the evening meal. Some of the garrison left the Keep to help with the preparations while some simply stood and talked while staring at the enemy on top of the cross wall gate house. It was a day of peace and despite the mistrust, men were able to relax.
The trespasser slipped silently into the throng of people moving about. He went unnoticed as he wore the king’s colours, dirty and grimy like everyone else. The movement in and out of the Keep was constant as the occupants took advantage of the lull in the fighting to enjoy the ever brightening day. Ranulf appeared in the entrance to the Fore building with Evelyn and they stood to one side as a group of men in the Kings colours entered on their way back into the Keep. Ranulf made eye contact with one of them and nodded, but was surprised when there was no acknowledgment back. He had no idea who those men were, but he didn’t know most of the men anyway. He glanced back as they all walked through the Fore building and turned right into the Keep.
‘Ranulf?’
He turned back to the woman at his side, a puzzled look on her face, ‘It’s nothing. I’m starting to look at everyone twice if I don’t know them.’
‘And you know everyone here?’
‘No,’ he admitted, ‘not everyone.’
~
Richard stood at the cross wall gate tower accompanied by le Breton. His weapons had been returned and he looked at the Frenchman with a mixture of excitement and sorrow. Although he had been his gaoler they had formed a friendship and it was this friendship that gave Richard his regrets. He had wrestled with his conscience about where his loyalties lay. Even though he respected his captors more than he thought he should, his first loyalty was to the King of England and his comrades who fought so bravely.
It wasn’t until he had seen a man wearing the Kings colours walking around the edge of the outer bailey before entering the cross wall gate tower he remembered his duty. As the man had glanced behind him Richard recognised de Clare and knew something bad was amiss.
After speaking to le Breton he was granted an audience with de Montfort. It had been late at night and de Montfort was sat deep in discussions with Jaxon and his Barons when Richard was brought to him. De Montfort had his tent set up outside the castle walls near to the main entrance and Fabien le Breton entered first leaving Richard outside with a guard. Richard waited patiently until the entrance flap was pulled to one side and Richard was beckoned in by the Frenchman. Everyone remained silent as Richard approached de Montfort. He gave a small bow of the head and waited for permission to speak.
De Montfort looked tired and nodded at Richard. He gave a small nervous cough, ‘My Lord,’ he looked around at the men who all sat staring at him, ‘what are you going to do with me?’
De Montfort narrowed his eyes and leant forward slightly, ‘What would you like me to do.’
‘I would like you to release me,’ said Richard unsure of de Montfort’s reaction.
The men in the tent chuckled and murmured to each other at the nerve of the royalist prisoner and they all turned to watch de Montfort, he was not only tired but in a bad mood.
Time was running out and he knew the King was making his way from Nottingham. He sat back and stared at Richard for several long seconds before replying, ‘Why would I do that Richard, you’re my enemy?’
‘You have the city my Lord, and you have the castle. There are no secrets I can give you and none I can tell the men in the Keep.’
De Montfort didn’t hide his surprise, ‘You want to enter the Keep?’
‘I do my Lord.’
‘You realise,’ said de Montfort as he looked thoughtfully at the young man, ‘if you enter the Keep, you no longer have my protection.’
Richard nodded, ‘I understand that my Lord, but as you have said, I am still your enemy. I gave my word not to escape but I am no longer any use to you.’
‘I could have you killed!’
‘Aye my Lord you could, but you are a man of honour, are you not?’
‘Did I promise not to kill you?’
‘No.’
De Montfort glanced at Jaxon who shrugged.
‘Very well,’ de Montfort sighed, ‘in the morning Fabien will accompany you to the cross wall.’
‘Thank you my Lord, and my weapons?’
De Montfort gave a small nod, ‘Fabien will ensure you have your weapons back.’
Richard nodded and turned to leave but stopped as de Montfort continued, ‘And Richard? If you ever wish to change sides……’
Richard smiled and walked out of the tent followed by the French knight, ‘I thought he would say no, or have me killed on the spot.’
‘If you had tried to escape he would have put your head on a spike, the Earl believes in honour.’
‘He has my respect,’ said Richard.
‘I’m glad I didn’t have to kill you,’ replied le Breton grimly, ‘I would have done this if he had ordered it.’
‘And now?’
Le Breton smiled, ‘Now we are friends.’ The smile vanished, ‘But tomorrow we will be enemies again.’
Richard thought about de Montfort’s last words as he stood at the cross wall with the man he hoped never to meet in battle. He turned to the Frenchman, ‘I never had much time for the French until I met you.’
Le Breton smiled and gave a small bow, ‘Au revoir, Richard of High Farley.’ He looked at the guards inside the gate tower, ‘Let him through.’
~
For his foray into the Keep, Gilbert de Clare shaved his beard off and darkened his hair with a dye made from animal blood and tree bark. Plastered in blood and grime and wearing a surcoat with the Royal coat of arms, he was unrecognisable to most men. Deluded though he was, he was also convinced he could talk Blanche back into his arms; he would seek a divorce. If the divorce was refused, he was good at creating accidents!
The mood in the Keep was surprisingly calm, everyone knew how King John had entered the Keep, but the tower he mined had been rebuilt as a round tower, and without corners that made it very hard to topple. Apart from FitzAlan, the people sheltering in the Keep still had faith the King would arrive soon, and prayers were said daily.
De Clare climbed the stairs slowly; hand on hilt, worried about being discovered and aware this could be considered a breach of the truce. He'd not told de Montfort what he was doing and when he didn’t appear for mass de Montfort would most likely start asking questions. He froze as he heard movement from above him and loosened his blade. As the footsteps came clattering down the stairs he moved to one side and tried to avoid eye contact as the two soldiers made their wa
y towards the first floor. He glanced after them before resuming his ascent.
Reaching the second floor he looked inside and heard the sound of wounded men. He jumped nervously as two servants brushed past him and entered the Great Hall. They didn’t give him a second glance; he looked the same as every other man from the garrison, armed, filthy and wearing the King’s colours. He continued up and past the third floor until he saw the doorway at the top of the stairs leading out onto the top of the Keep. He knew her passion for watching the early morning sun and he climbed slowly as his heart started to race.
Chapter Twenty Nine
‘Well?’
‘He’s in,’ said Jaxon, ‘I saw him enter the Keep myself.’
De Montfort was annoyed de Clare thought him stupid enough not to know what he was up to, ‘Where is de Chauvigny?’
‘I’ve sent for him,’ replied Jaxon, ‘do you think the stories are true?’
‘Aye, I’ve met him, eyes as evil as the devils arse.’
The main flap of the tent was pulled open and a guard pushed his head through, ‘Reynaud de Chauvigny my Lord.’
De Chauvigny walked into the tent and his eyes glanced about furtively, apart from de Montfort and Jaxon there was no one else for him to see, he gave a small bow, ‘My Lord.’
De Montfort came straight to the point, he didn’t have time for the niceties of polite conduct and did not feel enamoured towards this man. If the rumours were true, and he had no reason to suspect otherwise considering he had already impaled two men before the attack started, he had no reason to trust him, ‘I hope you have not spiked anyone else?’
De Chauvigny gave a half grin and inclined his head as he replied, ‘It was a necessary act my Lord, approved by Sir Gilbert.’
‘Ah, really, and it also allowed you to get your man inside, did it not?’
De Chauvigny’s eyes narrowed, ‘You are well informed my Lord.’
De Montfort leant forward placing his elbows onto the table and clasped his hands in front of his mouth as he tried to understand the man in front of him,
‘Sir Gilbert informs me you want Ralf de Capo.’
‘He has stolen from the Holy Father,’ de Chauvigny said bitterly, ‘we have been sent to reclaim the property and bring de Capo to face justice.’
‘A religious artefact, so I’ve been told……a scroll of value?’
‘Worthless to men like you and me,’ de Chauvigny said without removing his eyes from the Earl’s, ‘but priceless to the church. A religious artefact with no meaning to anyone but the man who intercedes with our divine Lord.’
De Montfort glanced at Jaxon and smirked, ‘Worthless? I’m sure it is, why else would you be sent thousands of miles to reclaim it….before we leave this place I want to see this scroll.’
De Chauvigny gritted his teeth as he acquiesced with a simple nod.
‘I hear rumours about you,’ de Montfort continued, ‘rumours that, to be blunt, disturb me. If those rumours are true I do not want any repeat performance here.’
De Chauvigny scratched his beard and glanced between de Montfort and Jaxon, ‘I can assure you I will abide by the rules of chivalry my Lord.’
De Montfort grunted, ‘Hmmph, I will hold you to that, now tell me about the man in the Keep.’
‘He is our advantage my Lord.’
De Montfort smashed his fist on the table making Jaxon jump. De Chauvigny simply looked angry as de Montfort snarled at him, ‘Do you think I’m a damn fool, one man is not an advantage, one man cannot drop a drawbridge and lift a portcullis, one man is not an advantage when there is no other way into that damn Keep except through the front door, so why is he there?’
For the first time de Chauvigny shifted in his seat, not happy with being questioned.
Before he could reply de Montfort continued, ‘Is he there to help Gilbert?’
De Chauvigny’s eyes finally gave him away, ‘Gilbert?’
‘Like you said, I am well informed….well?’
De Chauvigny sat and stared at de Montfort and silently cursed all spies and their mothers and prayed for a plague on all their offspring. He had no idea de Montfort knew so much and wondered how much more he knew.
Martel de Fribois had spies everywhere, not just the docks, the markets and the cities of the east, but in the Courts, palaces and armies of the west. De Capo’s exploits in Lewes had reached London and it wasn’t long before those stories reached de Chauvigny who was patiently waiting for information on de Capo’s whereabouts. Before he could leave for Lewes he was told about the Kings orders for de Capo to hold Rochester.
He was astounded but de Balon had suggested a reason, ‘We know the Deus Militis have sanctuaries, perhaps Rochester is one, perhaps de Capo is Deus Militis, and why he has been chosen?’
De Chauvigny thought about that, ‘Aye, it would explain his behaviour in Acre.’
The problem now was how to get to de Capo. He was not going to leave the city, and de Chauvigny and his men could not just walk in. If de Capo failed to recognise them, Erasmus certainly wouldn’t.
The answer lay in the other story they had been told, the antagonism between Gilbert de Clare and de Capo. Their hatred for each other over the Lady Blanche.
De Chauvigny smiled as de Balon explained his plan. Get the Lady out and de Capo would follow. They could manipulate de Clare. His obsession with Blanche de Warenne was his biggest failing and from what de Chauvigny had been told he was arrogant enough to enter the Keep and remove her…..but they needed a way in.
De Clare had thought long and hard about the plan before he agreed.
Jaxon pleaded with him not to do it, ‘If you are caught they will hang your body from the flagpole.’
De Clare ignored the advice; de Chauvigny was right, he was too arrogant to think Blanche would refuse him again.
He was bought back to the present as de Montfort repeated his question, ‘Yes,’ de Chauvigny replied with a half-truth, ‘he is there to help Sir Gilbert remove the Lady from the Keep.’
‘Why doesn’t he wait until it falls?’
De Chauvigny spread his hands, ‘My Lord, your ally does not believe the Keep will fall before the King arrives, and if it does not fall he has lost her forever.’
~
De Clare approached the doorway at the top of the stairs and froze as he heard footsteps behind him. He carefully pulled his sword from its sheath and crouched waiting. The steps were slow and calculated and he knew he was being followed.
‘Sir Gilbert?’ A harsh whisper that sounded ghostly in the confines of the stairs.
‘Show yourself,’ de Clare ordered.
Bradyn slowly appeared out of the shadow, hands splayed and open to show he was no danger.
De Clare’s sword pointed unwaveringly at his face, ‘Who are you?’
‘Reynaud’s man,’ said Bradyn.
‘You’re late!’ de Clare lowered his sword, I don’t need you now.’
Bradyn moved closer, ‘There is a man in the tower. I will replace him, if he is seen to disappear and not be replaced they will know something is wrong.’
Chapter Thirty
Ranulf’s attention was distracted from the knights who had entered the Keep when Evelyn pointed out Richard who was being escorted across the outer bailey towards the Keep.
Henry appeared next to them, ‘Another offer from my Uncle?’
Ranulf was more than curious, ‘I think not,’ he said, ‘he is armed.’
Ranulf apologised to Evelyn as he and Henry made their way quickly down into the bailey to meet Richard. He was greeted by men of the garrison who knew him and stopped as he saw Ranulf and Henry approach.
‘They released you?’ Ranulf was suspicious.
Richard nodded, ‘De Montfort believes it is only a matter of time before you surrender. I am of no further use to him…..but there is more.’
Before Richard had finished Ranulf had turned and sprinted up the steps into the Keep screaming for de Capo while Henry and
Richard followed.
~
De Clare stood hidden in the recess behind the doorway to the north east stairs. A sentry stood in the northwest tower looking west. Bradyn moved past de Clare, entered the tower and climbed the narrow staircase emerging in the centre of the floor. The sentry glanced behind him and watched curiously.
‘I’m here to relieve you.’
The sentry smiled in relief, thanked Bradyn, disappeared down the staircase and made his way towards the north east stairs.
Blanche stood facing the rising sun and looked round as the sentry disappeared; she glanced at the new man on the tower and turned back to the east oblivious to who the new man was. As the sun rose higher she closed her eyes and smiled as the warmth struck her face making her skin glow with a radiance. She had plans for her wedding and wanted to talk to de Capo about it before the fighting started again.
She felt rather than heard someone behind her and smiled as she turned her head slowly expecting to see de Capo, only to find a man in a dark hooded cloak standing close. As she turned all the way to see who it was, de Clare removed the hood. For several seconds Blanch stared at him before realisation dawned on her, ‘Gilbert!’
Gilbert smiled maliciously, ‘Aye, it’s me and I have come to reclaim what is mine.’
‘How did you….’ Blanche stopped, shocked that the one man she hated above all others stood in front of her, ‘this Keep is impregnable; how did you get in?’
‘It matters not,’ said de Clare, ‘if you wish to live you leave with me now, quietly.’
‘NO! I will not.’
Ashen faced, Blanche looked up at the towers, the sentry looked at her and turned away,
‘There is no one to help you Blanche, apart from me.’
‘Stay away!’ she screamed as she tried to run.
De Clare grabbed both her arms, ‘Listen to me,’ he ordered.
She started to struggle but his grip increased and he pushed himself against her trapping her body against his and the thick stones. He moved his head close and hissed in her ear, ‘Listen to me or I swear you will go over the edge……LISTEN TO ME!!’
Deus Militis - Soldiers of God Page 42
