Knight Assassin

by James Boschert

  Talon grinned ruefully. “He is an artist with the axe, I can tell you, Gareth.” They all laughed at that. Then it was time to set to again. Talon staggered to his feet and prepared himself for the next onslaught. They went at it for a few minutes, the clang of sword blade on shield or other blade, ringing around the yard. Then Talon thought it was time to use some guile of his own. As Philip came at him with his axe raised high, Talon stepped well into his uncle’s guard and stabbed him hard in the midriff with the blunt blade. Although the chain mail protected him, Philip’s breath went out with a whoosh. Then Talon tripped him up and Philip crashed to the ground, the axe leaving his hand. Before he could recover Talon was on him, sword point at his throat.

  “Yield, Uncle! I have you fair and square!” he shouted loudly.

  The archers laughed and clapped while Philip lay gasping. “You rogue, Talon. You tricked me. That was no fair fight.” But he was grinning behind his nose piece.

  “Begging your pardon, Sir Philip, but it was as fair as anything I have seen before.”

  Max had joined the spectators and was laughing with them at Philip’s demise.

  “Quiet, Max. You are supposed to be on my side,” Philip growled good-naturedly.

  Everyone laughed at that and Talon extended his arm and pulled his uncle back up onto his feet. They stood eying each other warily then Philip chuckled happily.

  “Talon, you are wilier than a fox. You are a worthy adversary in any guise. Well done. Want some more?”

  Talon shook his head. “No thank you, Uncle. Please, let’s close the lesson for today. I am so tired I can't hold my shield up anymore.”

  Talon left the men talking and made his way toward the well. He wanted a bath more than anything. Searching out his mother he asked her for the trough and hot water then waited for her to arrange for a space in one of the back rooms of the building to be made ready. Sitting near the entrance on a bench he was surprised to see Aicelina coming toward him.

  They had not had much time to talk during the last few days other than to greet one another and to share time with his brother. This time she came to stand in front of him. He looked up to find her observing him. He had divested himself of the heavy hauberk and was now clad just in his trews and a loose linen shirt that clung damply to his body. His hair was tousled and loose. He swept it back with his hand to see her better.

  “Aicelina, how are you?”

  “I am well, Talon. Have you been fighting your uncle again?”

  “He means to teach me how to use the Frankish weapons or kill me in the process.”

  She sat next to him on the bench. “Did you fight a lot in the Saracen Land?”

  He thought about it. “Yes, I suppose so. It's a land at war, so men fight, all the time it would seem.”

  “Men should fight less and respect the scriptures more,” she stated, looking across the yard.

  “I once knew a man who would have agreed with you. But others killed him, nonetheless. A man has to learn to defend himself and what belongs to him.”

  She sighed. “The world is full of contradictions. The scriptures and the priests say one thing and men mostly do another. This is a world in turmoil and womenfolk have to keep some peace for themselves, for men will not provide it.”

  “Do you wish then to become a nun and serve God alone?” he asked teasingly.

  She turned to him almost sharply. “No, I serve God my way and am in no need of a nunnery. We people of this region are not as other Christians. We believe in a wider way.”

  Talon was intrigued. “Are you then really Christians?” he asked.

  “Of course we are, but we do not owe allegiance to the Pope, for his place is not ordained by God as he would claim. He is only seeking power over men and this is not what God intended.”

  “Is everyone here then of your persuasion?”

  “Many are, within this region. We Albiginians do not talk about it very much as the Holy See in Albi condemns us as heretics for our free thought.” Then, almost as though she had decided they were on uncertain ground, she asked him, “I am going to the fair next week. I had hoped to be able to take Guillaume. Will you escort us?”

  “Yes, with pleasure. Is mother going, too?”

  “Your mother cannot go, as Ermessenda has the grippe again, so I have asked if I can go, but she told me that I should have an escort as times are dangerous.”

  “I would be honored to escort you.”

  She smiled at him and then, as though satisfied that she had achieved her objective, got up and left him to go about her work. He sat pondering this quiet girl who said little but was still pleasant to be with. He realized that he liked her smile. It seemed to light up her normally solemn features. He wondered if there was a man in her life.

  He went off to find his mother and get the promised bath. He considered what his brother would do if he threw him into the water and scrubbed him. The urchin was grubby and if it were not for Aicelina’s stern ministrations he would have been filthy most of the time. To Talon the total absence of cleanliness about the yard was irksome, but no one seemed to care. His father and mother managed somehow to stay reasonably clean and of course Aicelina did, too, how he could only guess.

  For the most part outer clothes were washed reasonably regularly although he could have done with having his under linen washed more often. He had noticed that people smelled of the work they did. He decided that the town people must smell even worse if the country people only smelt of cow or goat or pig.

  Talon spent most of the following three weeks with his archers. His father and Philip were about the business of the estate and often included him, but he wanted to learn something from his newfound army.

  It was apparent to Talon that the Welshmen loved nothing better than to be in the forests. Gareth explained that his entire country was forested and that they had all grown up in the woods. He went with them on more than one occasion and found it hard to keep up. They were approving of his ability to do even that, and it was not long before he began to enjoy the dense and closed feeling of the forest. These tough men of Wales had come to like and respect him and now enjoyed showing him their ways.

  They showed him how to walk quietly in a wooded environment and were surprised at how good he was already.

  They showed him how to recognize the new animals he had never seen in Palestine or Persia, the badgers, stoats and weasels, the mark of the boar, a female or male. He came to understand the calls of the forest animals and birds and to know that when it was quiet a large animal or other men were nearby. Together they hunted deer on foot and brought home venison for the hearth. They taught him how to trap rabbits. It became a very enjoyable and absorbing sport for Talon and took his mind off the darker thoughts that were always just beneath the surface—his mind worked on how to deal with the cabin arson and slowly a plan began taking shape.

  Soon he was well able to keep up with them and then he in turn began to improve upon what he had learned, drawing upon his earlier training in Persia with the Assassins. More than once he came upon one or two of his men so quietly that they were visibly disturbed when he revealed himself. Their respect grew. Gareth asked him once how he had learned these skills. Talon responded that he had grown up in a place where to be noticed meant punishment or death.

  He enjoyed being with his young brother and sister, although Ermessenda was too small to go anywhere as yet without being held by Aicelina. She liked to accompany Talon and Guillaume when they went fishing, carrying Ermessenda with her.

  There was a small brook that tumbled down a hill not far from the fort where Talon took his brother and demonstrated his skill at tickling trout out of the pools. They spent lazy afternoons on the banks of the stream, enjoying the late summer sun. Talon wove goose down onto a line and then tied a small hook on the line below with a wriggling worm and let it float on the top of the pool. Guillaume would shriek with excitement if the feather started to bob. Talon would have to tease the trout out of the wa
ter on these occasions, careful not to let it break the fine thread and escape. He earned his bother’s approval most of the time, but when the line did break, his brother would be scathing and demand another attempt at once.

  On the occasions Aicelina would come with them the two would converse while watching the children playing in the shallows. Sometimes they sat silently, enjoying the sound of the water rippling over the rocks and splashing into the small pools. Aicelina would wander off and pick small flowers while Talon lay back and dozed in the sun. When she came back, she’d sit nearby and show Guillaume and Ermessenda how to make garlands. Talon came to enjoy the company of the girl, but although she quickened his pulse when they were together he made no move to change their relationship. She in turn seemed content to simply be with him and the children.

  Once she asked him about his life in the other world. “How did you live, Talon? Do the women marry like we do? You have talked about great cities. I cannot imagine a great city for I have never been to more than a town like Albi.”

  Talon lifted himself onto one elbow and squinted up at her in the afternoon sunlight. “Persia is vast. Cities like Isfahan are huge and full of many people. These cities exist in the plains near to a desert and are supplied by camel caravans.”

  “What are camels? Are they like horses?” she asked curiously.

  He took a stick and drew a crude outline of a camel.

  Aicelina burst out laughing. “That cannot be, Talon. You mock me. That is a strange creature, indeed. What is that on its back? How can a man ride a creature like that? It looks as though God made a mistake when he created it.”

  “No, He did not make a mistake. These animals can walk across the deserts without water longer than any other creature, and that includes horses. Their feet are flat and softly padded underneath and this allows them to walk on sand that a horse would fall into and die of exhaustion if it tried to keep up. "But”—he smiled at her—“God forgot to give the camel a good nature. They have an unpleasant disposition and spit at people.”

  They both laughed at that and he realized that the light tone of her laughter was a very pleasant thing to hear.

  Her interest piqued, she continued to ask him about the places he had seen and he in turn was glad to tell her of them. One area that he had tried to stay away from was talk of Rav’an and Reza, but something told him that she knew a little and he guessed that his mother had talked to her. He had noticed how fond of Aicelina his mother was, so it did not really surprise him. She did ask him only once if he thought of going back to Persia.

  He hesitated, but then said, “Aicelina I have two friends in Persia, and I need to know if they are alive. We were parted by force and I have not been able to divine what may have happened to them. I need to know... so one day, yes, it's very possible I shall go back there.”

  She surprised him. “Is one of them the princess?”

  He stared at her for some moments then looked down at the grass. “Yes... one of them is the Princess.”

  She had nodded but said nothing further and soon the awkwardness of the moment had passed and they were distracted by Guillaume, demanding their attention again.

  At other times Talon accompanied his brother and Aicelina for walks in the fields along the hedgerows where Aicelina pointed out various wild herbs and berries they would be picking when autumn came, which Talon realized with some surprise was not that far off.

  His mother exclaimed that they had never had so much fish nor venison since Talon and the Welshmen had come. Sir Hughes laughed and said that he would employ them when his son’s money ran out, which had to be soon. Talon’s mother responded that if the Welshmen stayed his father would not have any fish left in his streams nor deer in his woods, they were such good providers. The archers grinned at the backhanded praise.

  The Welshmen were now better clothed than they had been. Marguerite had agreed with Talon that they were a sorely ragged group of men and had, with the willing help of the maids, produced new outfits for them. They were given clean linen to wear with woolen hose and outer shirts sewn by the maids. They had made up for the lack of outer wear and boots with skins of animals they had hunted. They were now also speaking French mixed with Languedoc passably well. Guillaume shadowed them constantly; he could not get enough of them and wanted a bow of his own. Gareth cut him a small one with which he practiced under the supervision of one or other of the archers while the others were out foraging.

  There was even a hint that one or two of the serving girls might be showing too much interest in the tough stocky men from Wales. There was much speculation as to who might be sweet on whom. Talon did not pay much attention to it until his mother brought it to his attention one day by remarking that his mercenaries were showing a disturbing ability to draw the girls away from their duties. He smiled. They seemed to be irrepressible and were well liked, but this could lead to complications over and above what they faced at present. He resolved to talk to Gareth about it, but somehow he kept putting it off and then forgetting to say anything.

  But one cloudy day as he and Gareth were striding past the hay barn, Gareth held up his hand and signaled Talon to stop. He listened and then whispered. “Can you hear something, Talon Bach?”

  Talon nodded. He had caught the sound of some rustling in the upper part of the barn where the hay was kept. They listened carefully and then both of them walked quietly toward the doorway of the barn.

  The noise became more pronounced as they stood at the bottom of a ladder that led to the attic above. The sounds coming from above were now distinct. There was a stealthy coupling going on and it was clearly not at the point where restraint mattered anymore. There came a gasp and then a moan and then the slap of flesh and another squeak and more moans and gasps.

  Talon left a grinning Gareth at the bottom of the ladder and climbed up carefully, not wanting to make too much noise. The sight that greeted him confirmed his mother’s worst fears. One of the maids was lying in the hay with her skirts up around her waist while one of the Welsh archers was lying between her thighs, his buttocks, white in the gloom, pumping away lustily. Talon could not see in the poor light as to who it might be. They were totally oblivious of Talon peering over the edge of the frame. He withdrew carefully and descended the ladder, shaking his head.

  He and Gareth left the barn and walked off some way. “I could not tell who it was, just an arse was all I could see, Gareth.”

  They both grinned and then Gareth laughed outright and slapped his thigh.

  “But I am sure it was one of our men; whoever it was, he is going to get one of the maids in the family way. I fear my mother will have a lot to say if that happens,” Talon said carefully.

  Gareth chuckled again. “So it’s one of us Welsh playing bury-me-peg, is it?”

  They waited to see who it might be and before long they were not disappointed. A disheveled Drudwas came furtively out of the barn still brushing hay off his doublet, and walked off toward the Hall, trying to look nonchalant.

  “I’ll have to talk to him, I suppose, m’lord?” Gareth said reluctantly.

  “If he does get one of the maids pregnant, he is going to stay here, Gareth.”

  So we'll dance round the tree, and merry we will be,

  Every year we'll agree the fair for to see;

  And we'll booze it away, dull care we'll defy,

  And be happy on the first Friday in July.

  - The Fairlop Fair song

  Chapter 8

  The Fair

  The time came for Talon to take Aicelina and his brother Guillaume to the fair. Albi was four full hours away by cart. It was probably much less on horseback by Talon’s estimation. One of the Welshmen, Anwl, offered to drive the cart. He had hurt his foot while trying to run down a deer in the forest. The others ribbed him mercilessly, and then disappeared back into the woods to hunt more game.

  The group left at dawn just as the first streaks of light glowed in the eastern horizon. It was going to be a
fine day without many clouds in the sky.

  Talon rode Jabbar, who wanted to run and gave some small pops to indicate that he wanted to be paid much more attention than he had been recently. Talon grinned and patted his neck, chiding him for being rude. He received a snort in reply and they were on their way. Almost four hours later, after much singing and playing of guessing games, the little party arrived at the thick wooden gates to the town of Albi. They joined others with the same intent and were granted entry by the guards at the gates, who eyed Aicelina appreciatively.

  Albi provided a market place for the country all around and as such boasted several inns and a newly cobbled space in the center where the market was located. The keep towered over the market square, in company with the stone Roman church nearby. The houses gathered around the market place belonged for the most part to the wealthier personages of the town, including the three-storied building that was known as the bishop’s house. Talon noted the extensive use of red brick in between the solid wood frames of the houses around the town. He had seen more stone in use elsewhere, particularly to the east of the country. The combined effect of brick and stone gave the town a warm orange glow in the sunshine.

  They parked the wagon and the horses at one of the inns where Talon impressed the innkeeper with the show of a little silver coin. Then they were walking together along the main street of the town. This street, as well as the market, was already crowded and full of bustle. Shopkeepers and farmers from the outlying areas were presenting their wares, laid out on bare planks in an area of crowded stalls, shouting cheerfully at the passers by. Fishmongers displayed pike, succulent trout, and baked eels from the nearby river, the flies already taking an interest in the fish.

  They passed by the bakers and their huge loaves of bread stacked on trestle tables. The bread looked like big flat, rounded stones, the flour dusting the gray of the bread crusts. The very smell was mouthwatering. Nearby there were huge, strong-smelling cheeses that were stacked carelessly on the ground, and then the three of them walked slowly by the olive sellers who came from faraway Provence, offering the passersby a taste of their plump wares coated in olive oil and even dipped in crushed garlic or herbs. None of them could resist that temptation, so Aicelina bought some for the midday meal.