Then there had been the stains he’d noticed, making runnels in the dust on the boy’s cheeks.
He’d been crying, Adam thought, surprised by the discovery. The realization was uncomfortable. He hadn’t expected a Saracen to feel or look like a real person. He shook his head, trying to dispel the memory, and thought about the boy no more.
Trumpets and the beating of drums woke Adam one morning before dawn. He had been sleeping as usual beside Grimbald, under the rough awning that covered the Fortis warhorses, and he started up in fright, thinking that the Saracens were attacking. Faithful was barking furiously, his hackles raised.
Sir Ivo came stumbling out of his tent.
‘My sword! What have you done with my lance? Hurry up, boy!’
All over the Crusader camp the alarm was being sounded. Foot soldiers were groping in the darkness for their helmets and bows, warhorses were being saddled and squires were easing knights into their coats of mail.
Then, through the din, came an unexpected sound. Cries of joy were rippling backwards through the camp from the beach.
‘Ships!’ people were shouting. ‘Ships!’
The light was growing brighter, minute by minute.
‘Sounds of joy, I think, rather than conflict,’ said Sir Ivo, in his usual light way. ‘Mail coat in readiness, however, just in case. And saddle Grimbald.’
He disappeared in the direction of Lord Guy’s large tent nearby, and Adam saw the grey shapes of the other knights gather to confer.
He set about his duties, starting with Grimbald. The great black stallion, excited by the clamour, was tossing his head and blowing noisily down his nostrils.
‘No call for all that,’ Adam said, as he flung the heavy saddle up on to the horse’s back. ‘No fighting today, not by the looks of things.’
Faithful was still barking and Adam went across to quieten him. The first shafts of sunlight were making stripes across the eastern sky. In a moment the sun would be up over the horizon. He could see the knot of knights clearly now, as they stood at the entrance to Lord Guy’s tent. Some were looking up anxiously towards the Saracen army on the hill above. Others were pointing the other way, towards the sea.
Adam bent over Faithful, stroking his head and reassuring him quietly. He could feel the bones of the dog’s skull sharp through the lank folds of his skin.
I’m not much more than a scarecrow myself, he thought, licking his dry lips. If that’s more Crusaders arriving, I hope they’ve brought their own food. There won’t be a bite left to eat in this camp soon.
The very thought of food made saliva well up inside his mouth. He swallowed it, felt for his belt and tightened it round his waist. Half a cupful of watery porridge was all he could hope for today.
He was about to trot back to Sir Ivo’s tent to start laying out his armour when he caught sight of Lord Robert, who had emerged blinking into the new dawn light and was fixing plumes into the crest of his father’s great helmet. Adam grinned.
Noble you might be, he thought, but you’re still only a squire. I heard your pa bawl you out yesterday for ripping that pennant on his lance. Careless, you are.
He’d never have a made a mistake like that. He handled Sir Ivo’s knightly gear with reverence, and knew he was skilled in managing it.
At that moment, Lord Robert looked up and stared straight across the rough intervening ground into Adam’s eyes. He scowled, as if he had read Adam’s thoughts. Adam’s grin disappeared at once, and he hurried into Sir Ivo’s tent. One day, he knew, when Lord Guy was no longer there, he’d become the property of Lord Robert, his bonded serf, completely in his power. The thought of it chilled him and he shivered.
He was taking a freshly washed surcoat from the small chest by Sir Ivo’s pallet bed when he heard shouts and cheering coming from the direction of Lord Guy’s tent. He hurried outside, the surcoat in his hands.
‘The lost ship!’ he heard someone call out. ‘It’s come! It’s a miracle! A miracle!’
Shocked with joy, Adam stood still for a frozen moment. Then, hardly knowing what he was doing, he shouted, ‘Jenny!’ and flinging the surcoat aside, he dashed off in the direction of the sea. Ruthlessly using his elbows, he tried to push his way through the crowd hurrying in the same direction. Eager Fortis men were pressing up against him on all sides, barging their way through a camp full of protesting Burgundians, tripping over their guy ropes and dodging round their wagons.
He reached the front, where the crowd had thinned out, and found himself running alongside Roger Stepesoft, his old shipmate.
‘What did I tell you?’ Roger panted, beaming at him. ‘Come back to you, hasn’t she, safe and sound.’
He didn’t bother to answer. Weakened by weeks of hunger, he was painfully out of breath.
‘’Tain’t all good news, if it is our ship.’ Treuelove Malter had trotted up on the other side of him. ‘They’ll have eaten up all their own food by now. Hundreds more sharing what we got – there won’t be a mouthful left for anyone.’
Adam put on a spurt and left the other two behind. If Jennet was alive, it would be miracle enough for one day. There’d be time enough to think about food later.
There was not one but three ships at anchor just off the beach, which was crammed with people. Men were splashing out through the shallow water, returning to the shore with heavy sacks weighing down their shoulders.
‘Corn! They’ve brought corn!’ someone shouted. ‘Food for everyone! We’re saved!’
As the news spread, people dropped to their knees on the sand and looked up at the sky, their hands clasped in thankful prayer. Some began to sing, their weak voices strengthened with hope, while in the camp behind, the bells outside the tented churches jangled with violent joy.
Adam had eyes only for the lost Fortis ship, beached a little way apart from the other two. The huge door in its bows had swung open, and horses were mincing delicately down the gangway. After them rumbled wagons, pulled by teams of mules. Adam, barely taking in their sleek, well-fed appearance, was scanning the heads that crowded along the rail of the upper deck, searching for Jennet.
The faces peering down from above were solemn, awed, lit from within by holy joy. Adam, remembering how he’d felt when he’d first arrived in the Holy Land, was sorry for them. They were expecting glory and salvation. They had come to hunger and squalor.
He almost didn’t see Jennet. She had drawn a shawl close over her head and was slipping off the ship half concealed by one of the wagons. Adam, catching a glimpse of her, ran forward, then hesitated as he saw her more clearly. Was this Jennet, this stooped, stumbling creature? Could anyone have changed so much?
Then he saw the child she was carrying on her hip.
Of course! The baby. It’ll have been born by now. It’ll be a child, not a baby, by now.
‘Jenny!’ he shouted.
She looked up and her face, white and drawn, broke into an exhausted smile. A moment later he was beside her.
‘I thought you were dead,’ he said. ‘I gave up hope.
Everyone said the ship had gone down.’
She shuddered.
‘It nearly did. More than once. Sometimes I wished it had. Another week at sea and the sickness would have killed me off. I feel terrible, Adam. And the ground keeps heaving under my feet. I thought it would stop when I was back on dry land. But am I glad to see you! I was afraid you’d have been sliced in half by now by one of them wicked Saracen swords. But what have you done to yourself? You’re nothing but skin and bone! Grown, though, haven’t you? Not a kid any more, are you?’
He was looking curiously at the child, a little girl, with a tangle of dirty blonde curls on her head.
‘Food’s run out, nearly,’ he said.
Jennet shifted the child from one hip to the other.
‘What are you grinning like that for, then?’
‘I’m pleased to see you! And these other ships, they’re full of supplies, aren’t they?’
She was no
longer listening but was standing still, looking round at the teeming, crowded camp, pulling a face at the foul stench wafting down from it.
‘This is the Holy Land, then, is it? I thought it would be – oh, I don’t know. Beautiful. Not ordinary, anyway. What’s that up there, on the hill?’
‘It’s them. The Saracens,’ Adam said. ‘Stalemate, that’s what this is. We’ve been sitting it out, staring at each other for a year and a half already. We hoped the King would be here by now. They’ve got a cunning devil of a king on their side, I can tell you. Saladin his name is. He calls on the powers of darkness, they say. It’ll take a hero like King Richard to get the better of him.’
‘And that’s the city, is it? That’s Jerusalem?’ Jennet nodded towards the walls of Acre.
‘No,’ he said, feeling pleasantly superior. ‘Jerusalem’s miles away. That’s Acre. We’ve got to take it first, before we can even think about Jerusalem.’
She pulled down the corners of her mouth.
‘Look at it! Those walls – they’re massive! No one could ever get in there.’
‘They’ll give up soon,’ Adam said cheerfully. ‘Starving them out, that’s what we’re doing.’
He wanted to tell Jennet about the dogs dying, and Sir Ivo taking him on, and how he was now doing the work of a squire, but the little girl was kicking Jennet’s hip, her mouth turned down at the corners as if she about to cry.
‘How old is she?’ Adam asked awkwardly.
‘Just on a year. Walking already. It’s a job keeping up with her, I can tell you.’ She dropped a light kiss on to the fuzz of pale hair. ‘Her name’s Matilda. It was my ma’s name. I call her Tibby most of the time.’
He looked down briefly at the child’s pink face. ‘I don’t know much about children.’
Jennet smiled.
‘I didn’t either. I know more than I ever wanted to now. Lovely, though, she is.’
She’s changed again, Adam thought. I suppose the baby’s the main thing with her now.
It was hard keeping up with Jennet.
She was looking eagerly around her as they walked up through the crowded camp.
‘Where’s the English then?’ she said, hearing the strange languages all around. ‘Look at this lot. They’re all foreign.’
‘We’re further on. The other side of the camp, nearest the hills. Right up by the bank at the edge.’ Adam was becoming worried. He could see too much interest in the faces of the men they passed. A young woman was a rare thing in the Crusader camp and the thousands of men cooped up there had been without their wives and girlfriends for too long. His shoulders tensed. Jennet needed someone to protect her, but there was nothing much he could do. The thought made him feel useless and half resentful.
Anyway, I’m working for Sir Ivo now, he told himself.
Sir Ivo! He remembered with a jolt how he’d thrown the surcoat aside and run off without permission.
‘Come on, Jenny,’ he said, tugging at her arm. ‘We’ve got to hurry. I’m with Sir Ivo now. His groom got left behind, and his squire died. I’m sort of doing their work.’
‘Squire’s work? You don’t mean it!’ She stared at him admiringly. ‘Adam, that’s amazing! I remember Sir Ivo. He’s the nice one.’
‘Yes, but I ran off without telling him when I heard your ship had come in.’
‘You didn’t, did you?’ She stopped walking and pointed forwards. ‘You’d better go on ahead. I’ll go back down to the wagons and come in with the other women.’
He frowned.
‘Be careful. A woman can’t go anywhere in this camp on her own. It’s dangerous.’
‘Listen to you, ordering me about!’ she marvelled. ‘Go on, Adam. If you get into trouble I don’t want it to be my fault. I can look after myself anyway, thank you very much.’
Her mocking tone offended him, and he stood still, glaring at her. And then behind Adam came a silky voice that he remembered only too well. He spun round, and grimaced at the sight of the pedlar, Jacques.
‘My young friend! I should say my dear young friend. Well! Very neat and tidy-looking for a dog boy you are, I must say. Gone up in the world, I can see that. New tunic, new sandals – quite the young lord. Rich opportunities there are for all of us in a camp like this. I feel my horizons expanding. I’d say I could smell success if it wasn’t for the stink of something different.’
Jacques lifted his foot and looked with disgust at what was clinging to the sole of his shoe.
‘Jacques!’ said Jennet, sounding pleased. ‘Good thing you’re here. I want to go on with the wagons. Adam’s got to hurry on. He’s Sir Ivo’s squire now.’
‘I’m not a squire,’ Adam said hastily. ‘I’m his servant, that’s all.’
Jacques whistled admiringly.
‘A squire! Where will it end? Glory beckons, young man. Now go on. Scarper. I’ll look after Jenny here. Be all right with me, won’t you, lovey?’
Jennet was already hurrying back towards the beach. In the distance, Adam could see the wagons making their slow, laborious progress.
Jacques met Adam’s scowl with a wide, innocent smile.
‘Trust me, my boy!’ He winked and turned to follow Jennet, his eyes darting everywhere as he took in the large possibilities the camp offered to his talents. He caught Jennet up and flung his cloak protectively round her shoulders.
Adam watched doubtfully, then ran on towards the Fortis camp.
She’s only been here the space of a half-hour and we’re going on at each other already, he thought ruefully. She doesn’t see that I’m older. She’s only a woman, after all, and I’m a man now, almost. She needs me.
He bit his lip with anxiety as he saw Sir Ivo standing at the opening to his tent, slapping a leather belt against one hand.
‘My surcoat lying in the dust. My horse saddled but unbridled. My coat of mail all in a heap. You run off like a gaping fool, at the first hint of excitement. I’m disappointed in you, Adam. I took a risk with you.’
Adam searched his mind for something to say, and found nothing.
‘I’m sorry, sir,’ he managed at last.
‘To be trustworthy,’ Sir Ivo continued in the same biting tone, ‘is the first lesson any servant must learn, much more a page. I should have known better than to expect such a quality in a serf. I shall be forced to look elsewhere, I can see.’
Adam stared at him, the blood draining from his face.
‘Sir Ivo, please . . .’ He stopped, seeing in Sir Ivo’s face that pleading would only make matters worse. He took a deep breath and tried to keep his voice from trembling. ‘I understand,’ he said. ‘I’m very sorry.’ He stopped. There was no change in Sir Ivo’s expression. A little defiance crept into Adam’s soul. ‘If you find another boy,’ he said stiffly, ‘tell him to look out for Grimbald’s left forehock. There’s a tick bite there looks like it might become infected.’
Exasperation replaced the anger on Sir Ivo’s face.
‘You stupid boy! What did you run off like that for?’
‘No reason, sir.’ Adam was staring woodenly ahead. ‘I was just stupid, like you said.’
He flinched as the belt Sir Ivo was holding flicked painfully across his face.
‘Don’t take that insolent tone with me! Why did you run off?’
Adam felt Faithful’s wet nose push against his hand. The dog, sensing that he was in trouble, was growling softly.
‘Stop that,’ Adam whispered fiercely. Faithful whimpered, backed obediently away and flopped down nearby, watching intently.
‘It was because of Jennet,’ Adam said unwillingly at last, a dark flush mounting his face.
‘Jennet? A girl?’
There was disgust in Sir Ivo’s voice.
‘She’s a laundry maid.’ Adam saw recognition in Sir Ivo’s eyes, and hurried on. ‘It’s not – that sort of thing, sir. She’s like my big sister. Her father was always kind to me, after mine died.’
‘Go on.’
Adam hesitated, n
ot knowing if he dared criticize Lord Robert.
‘She was got into trouble,’ he plunged on recklessly, ‘by Lord Robert. She’s got a baby now. Lord Robert, he said it wasn’t his, but it was. He wouldn’t do anything to help her. It’s put her in danger. The men-at-arms, they think she’s no better than a – you know what I mean, sir.’ He was trying to read Sir Ivo’s face, but the knight’s expression gave nothing away. Adam went doggedly on. ‘When I thought the ship she was in was lost, it was like my whole family had gone. It’s what she is to me. My family. There’s no one else. And I thought of her coming up here through the whole camp, with all the foreigners, not knowing her, just seeing a girl, with no protection, and when I thought what they might do, I just ran, sir. I had to look after her. I’m – she’s my responsibility.’
‘You know, of course, young Adam,’ said Sir Ivo after a pause, resuming his normal light tone, ‘that the duty of a knight is to protect women and the fatherless? I have some authority in this camp, I believe. I shall warn the sergeant-at-arms that if any harm comes to her there’ll be the severest punishment. She’ll be safe enough if she stays within the confines of the Fortis camp.’ He coughed. ‘She’s been wronged, I know.’
Adam’s heart lightened.
‘Thank you, Sir Ivo! That’ll make things go all right.’
‘And now, the matter of my surcoat,’ Sir Ivo said severely, picking up the crumpled bundle of once-white linen which was streaked with dirt. ‘You’ll wash it immediately. And the next time you rush off on a chivalrous quest you’ll refrain from throwing my belongings in the path of your scabrous hound. His paw marks are all over it.’
It took Adam a moment to digest Sir Ivo’s meaning.
‘Then am I – you’re not going to—’
‘You stay in my service. Yes. On trial. You understand?’
‘Oh yes, sir!’ Adam beamed at him. He’d never known anyone as good and generous as Sir Ivo before. His heart was swept with devotion.
Something else occurred to him.
‘I didn’t tell you, sir. There were two other ships came in with ours. Full of food. They’re unloading sacks of corn off them now.’
Crusade Page 17
