Knight Assassin

by James Boschert

  There was an appreciative murmur from the crowd at this display, but although it would have been a good shot at any time Talon had simply wanted to make the birds fly.

  As soon as they took off he knocked another arrow in the string and standing in the stirrups in one fluid motion aimed and loosed the arrow at the flying birds.

  The arrow struck one bird true, piercing it through the breast. There was a small cloud of feathers and the bird collapsed on the end of the string and hung limply against the post. The crowd roared its approval and pointed with obvious amazement at his skill.

  With Jabbar still cantering in a circle around the pole Talon loosed another arrow at the remaining bird and again his arrow flew true to bring that bird down as well.

  Talon cantered slowly toward the stands where his friends stood clapping and cheering; he bowed once again to the Count and his lady.

  The Count indicated that he should come closer. “You are a skilled horseman, Sir Talon de Gilles, and we have seen you in a mêlée where you acquitted yourself well. What can we do to reward you for such displays of arms?”

  “My Lord, I would see justice for my father in the court of Albi this coming month. That is all I ask, Sire.”

  The Count turned to Philip, who was standing nearby in his Templar uniform. They conversed in undertones as the Count asked questions. Then he nodded and turned back toward Talon. “I shall see to it, Sir Talon de Gilles. You may inform your father, Sir Hughes, that I will see to it that justice is served.”

  Talon swept off his cap and bowed deeply from the saddle. “Thank you, Sire. I am very grateful.”

  He cantered Jabbar off the field, amused that others were now riding their horses onto the field with bows and trying to emulate the feat he had just performed. Arrows were now flying into the crowd from badly aimed weapons, eliciting shouts of surprised anger as people dodged them, or in a couple of cases striking an unwary target.

  Max and Anwl greeted him warmly at the tents as he rode up. “That is quite a thing to see. I have not even seen the Saracen perform this feat before. Did you learn it in Persia?” Max asked as he took the reins and patted Jabbar on the neck.

  “I did. We were encouraged to do this sport when we were boys. My friend Reza was even better than I at this game.”

  “Well, Talon Bach,” Anwl commented dryly, “you might need to provide some instruction on how it’s done; the men out there are about to do much mischief with their bows. I have not seen one come even close and their arrows are flying in all directions. Watch out, my Lord!” he yelled as an arrow flew by, much too closely, and thudded into the ground close by.

  A trumpet sounded the end of the events and people began to leave.

  Before they left, however, Anwl said something that made Talon pause. “There is a man who has been hanging about our lines this afternoon, m’lord. I saw him this morning when we were in the town as well. It seems like he is watching our every move.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “As soon as you rode up he disappeared. Almost as though he didn’t want to be seen.”

  “Did you see him Max?” Talon asked.

  “No, I was too busy watching the show you were giving.”

  “If you see him again tell me quickly and as quietly as possible, Anwl. I would like to know what he wants.”

  “Certainly, m’lord,” Anwl said, “I shall.”

  Come with the buckler, the lance, and the bow.

  Trumpets are sounding,

  War-steeds are bounding,

  Stand to your arms, then, and march in good order;

  England shall many a day

  Tell of the bloody fray,

  - Walter Scott

  Chapter 15

  Mission

  The following day Talon was woken by Phillip again banging on the door. “Wake up Talon! We are summoned to the Count’s palace,” he bellowed.

  Hurriedly climbing into his clothes and dashing water over his face, Talon joined Phillip at the entrance to the tavern where he stood waiting impatiently, his cloak billowing in the light breeze.

  “Don’t we even eat breakfast Uncle?” Talon asked plaintively. He had come to bed late and his mouth tasted dry and wooly.

  “The Count waits for no man, my boy. We had best leave breakfast till later.” Phillip advised.

  “What have we been summoned for Uncle?” Talon asked hurrying alongside, buckling his belt a little tighter and adjusting his sword.

  “The Good Lord knows: I have no idea what it could be for, Talon. I had hoped that we might be on the road back to your father today. We’ll see.” Phillip said as they gained entrance to the palace and walked at a brisk pace along the cobbled road of the inner keep. They were met by a page who guided them to the chambers on the upper floors they had visited the previous day.

  As they entered Talon noticed that Lord Guy was again with the Count, and that the hard faced individual was standing in the corridor glowering at them as they entered.

  Neither Phillip nor Talon paid him more than a cursory glance before the door was shut and their attention was focused upon the Count and his guest who were standing by the window.

  The Count turned and greeted them.

  “Good morning Sir Knights. Ah, Phillip, I want to talk to you more about the Outre-Mere but at this moment I have something else to discuss. Will you take water or wine?”

  Sir Guy walked forward and greeted both. “I am pleased to see you again, Sir Phillip, and you, Sir Talon. Your demonstration of horsemanship with the bow yesterday was remarkable indeed.”

  The Count called over to one of the men in the corner who was furiously scribbling, the sound of the scratching quill came clearly to their ears in the quiet room.

  “Have you not finished yet, Michal? My Lord Guy is impatient to leave.”

  “Almost ready my Lord! Almost done,” squeaked the man and continued to scribble. Another monkish figure hovered over him whispering words that he wrote down.

  The Count turned back to Phillip and Talon. His gaze fell upon Talon and he contemplated him a moment before speaking.

  “Sir Talon, you demonstrated excellent horsemanship and good weapons skills yesterday, apart from your skill with the bow which will be talked about around here for a long time. I could not fail to notice how well you protected my son in the mêlée. That was the mark of a faithful and trustworthy knight.”

  Talon blushed with embarrassment. “I was only doing what I thought was the right thing by my Lord Roger, Sire.”

  “Quite so! It is with that in mind that I am now commanding you to accompany my Lord Guy to Aquitaine as a messenger to bring back certain information that I am desirous to receive.”

  Phillip half rose in his chair real surprise on his bearded face. “My Lord! Talon is young and what you are asking of him is a high responsibility. With deep respect Sire, why could not one of your other more experienced knights act as the messenger?”

  The Count glanced at him sharply and said. “Sir Phillip, you have a right to ask and I am well aware that you were expecting to leave very soon for Albi where there is pressing business. Indeed I would not ask this of Talon but that he is quite unknown in the regions to the west of here and therefore will pass unnoticed. I can assure you there is little danger for him, whereas another of my knights might well be recognized and betrayed. Do you get my meaning?”

  Phillip subsided reluctantly.

  The Count continued. “Also I have heard reports of Talon from both yourself and also my son, beyond what I myself have seen, that tell me he is exceptional for his age and well able to take care of himself. Am I mistaken in this?” he demanded almost aggressively.

  Phillip glanced at Talon and nodded. “I will not protest further my Lord. I would leave it up to Talon to respond.”

  Talon was excited at the prospect of an adventure on behalf of the Count. He glanced at Philip who nodded, but looked unhappy.

  “My Lord, I am yours to command,” he stated simply.<
br />
  There was nothing else he could say. His heart was beating a little faster at the thought of a mission for his Count so soon after having been knighted.

  The Count gave him a warm smile. “Well said, Sir Talon. This will be an interesting diversion for you and in the best of company.” He indicated Lord Guy, “There is every chance that you will meet and talk with Prince Richard of England. He will be very interested in hearing about the Outré Mere.”

  At that moment the scribe finished writing, he sprinkled sand on the parchment and then, blowing and shaking it to remove the last of the fine sand, he took it over to the Count for him to read.

  The Count looked the document over carefully. It seemed to Talon that this was not the first draft but this time the Count nodded his approval and called for the sealing wax. This was presented by the other scribe and a huge blob of red wax was dripped onto the now rolled parchment, held with a blue ribbon, then the Count stabbed at it with his ring bearing the crest of his family. Talon did not see the contents of the parchment; neither did Lord Guy.

  The Count handed the document to Lord Guy and said. “I wish you God speed, my Lord. If you will wait in the courtyard I shall send Sir Talon to attend you forthwith.”

  Count Raymond bade good bye to Lord Guy then he told everyone except Phillip and Talon to leave the room. The monks bustled out clutching rolls of parchment, papers and pens and ink.

  When the door was firmly closed the sound of parting steps had receded the Count turned back to the men in the room.

  “Good, now listen carefully as this information is for the ears of only those within this chamber.

  “I am sending a written message with My Lord Guy to Richard. Prince Richard is in Aquitaine and is seeking my aid. His father is making noises about moving down from Normandy to crush what he sees as a rebellion by the Prince. I intend to offer help in the form of men and treasure to show good will for the future.

  “None of this must ever reach the ears of either his father, Henry, or King Louis—do I make myself clear?” he demanded, his voice low but hard.

  Both men nodded their agreement.

  He turned his stern gaze upon Phillip and said. “Sir Phillip, the only reason I have included you is that you are somewhat of a guardian for this young man, and you are a relative. I am also aware that your allegiance is to the Church of Rome, so you are here on my trust. Do I have your word that none of this will go further than this chamber?”

  Phillip stood up and faced the Count and placed his hand on his heart. ”You have my word as a Templar Sire. Nothing shall go beyond this chamber.”

  The Count nodded and continued. “Talon, you are to remember the numbers I give to you now, as none of this is written down in the parchment I have given Lord Guy. The information will be delivered by word of mouth by you only. I trust Lord Sir Guy implicitly, but I do not know if there is a spy among his retinue. The damned scum are everywhere; both those of King Henry, but also those of Louis. I have to be very careful. I would therefore rather not compromise him or the Prince with damning information in writing. However, everyone will know that Lord Guy came to visit me, so he must go home with something to show for his troubles; that will throw the spies off the scent.”

  He then proceeded to list the men, horses and supplies he could provide and where they would be available. When done he told Talon to repeat verbatim what he had said and was pleased when Talon made no mistakes.

  “Go with God and may he protect you and Sir Guy and bring me the news I wish to hear in haste,” he said by way of dismissal.

  Talon had arranged to meet Sir Guy at the north gates within the hour. He had Anwl snatch some food from the Inn kitchens then bade a hurried good bye to Phillip who was decidedly unhappy at this unexpected turn of events, as was Max. Anwl on the other hand was excited and made haste to get their baggage ready so that they could ride immediately.

  Talon told him, “I am assured by the Count himself that this is a routine visit and we are to meet the great Richard of England, Anwl.”

  “I have never seen an English Prince, Milord. Not like our Princes in Wales, I think me,” responded Anwl happily.

  Anwl, although not as good a rider as Talon, was competent enough on a horse so it was not long before the two of them trotted their mounts toward the gate and were greeted by Lord Guy, who was impatient to leave. Alongside him on a charger was the man who had been lurking around the corridors while the Lord spoke to Count Raymond. The man glowered at Talon but said nothing and Lord Guy did not bother to introduce them. Talon noted the huge sword the knight carried on a belt over his shoulder. It was two handed and looked very businesslike.

  They were seen off from the gates of the city by a curious crowd who had not seen English knights or men at arms before. The brightly colored pennants on the tips of the lances snapped in the breeze and the horses, sensing an adventure, were stepping high, arching their necks and chomping on their bits. Men sat their mounts stiff and proudly as they were sent off with a cheer from the friendly people of Carcassonne.

  “We will head along the main road towards Toulouse but then take the southern route around the city, as I do not wish to stay there overnight. Too full of people loyal to the King of France, I fear.” Lord Guy told Talon.

  “Where are we going, my Lord?” asked Talon who had no idea as to where Toulouse might be let alone any other place in the country.

  “We will travel northwest till we are in Aquitaine and once within the borders we will find the road to Auch where I hope that the Prince will still be hunting,” said Sir Guy.

  Talon looked back at the men who accompanied them. Sir Guy had only six in all, but tough looking men who were undoubtedly English from their light beards and huge mustaches. They were all well mounted and armed. Their faces and eyes half hidden by the flat topped iron helmets and long nose guards gave the men a forbidding aspect.

  The one man who Talon was concerned about was he who stayed close to Sir Guy. He disdained to wear a helmet but wore a good hauberk of chain with a chain hood which was pushed back over his shoulders leaving his shaved head clear. It showed off the scars on his face and only half an ear on the left side of his skull. He sported a wide yellow mustache and his hard blue eyes never seemed to miss anything.

  In an undertone Talon mentioned the man to Anwl and pointed him out saying, “I am not sure of this man and I do not trust him very much, although apparently Sir Guy does. I suspect that he speaks French so be careful what you say in front of him, Anwl.”

  “I shall, m’lord.” said Anwl. “But he is not likely to understand my French in any case.” He gave his gap-toothed grin to Talon who, knowing exactly what Anwl meant, laughed quietly. He was excited at the prospect of this unexpected journey into Aquitaine. He wished only that he could have had time to say good bye to his new friends.

  They rode for the rest of the day following an old Roman road that led over rolling forested hills. Their route took them over some well made stone bridges and across wide fords. The forests were full of game, and it was not hard to pick out deer watching them from the shadows or even crossing their path. Lord Guy did not tarry to hunt, although many were the times Talon could have brought down a small deer for supper without getting off Jabbar. However, Lord Guy seemed impatient to get to his destination without delay.

  Some times when the hills were less densely populated with tall stands of trees they were afforded spectacular views of the distant snow clad mountains to the south. The road that they followed towards Toulouse was well used and not in good condition. They frequently passed slower parties of merchants and the occasional group of monks or pilgrims going in either direction. Often the people going their way would call out to ask if they could accompany the armed group for protection against robbers on the road. But Lord Guy would not tarry for them so they were left behind to fend for themselves.

  They did not encounter any delays, so they made good time and by evening they were near a small fortified villag
e where they were permitted entrance and stayed the night at the only inn of which the village could boast.

  That night, over local beer and wine and a haunch of roasted mutton, Lord Guy became an entertaining host who asked many questions about the Outré Mere and in turn told Talon about his native country, England. His own estates were extensive and located in the great valley of Thames, as he called the river not very far from Oxford, a city of learning, he explained. He laughed at Talon’s attempt to pronounce the name of the river.

  As all this was very new to Talon he listened with interest and asked many questions of his own that Lord Guy was happy to answer.

  Talon wanted to know about this legendary Prince of England and Lord Guy told him what he could.

  “He is known for his fighting skills and his great strength, Talon. You have already seen the mêlée and have indeed taken part in one; however when the Prince joins the one side, the other is immediately at a disadvantage and is bound to lose. He is a big man and when he strikes, even without intent to maim, a man falls, it's as simple as that!”

  “Does he have brothers or sisters, my Lord?’

  “He has two brothers, neither of whom is close to him in physique nor ability. However King Harry, who lacks nothing in cunning, sets the brothers against one another, so that he can rule and they cannot unite against him. He is jealous of his kingdom and will not share it.” He lowered his voice when he said that and winked.

  “But the one both the King and the Prince need to watch and to be very careful of is John, the king’s other son. That man has brains and could make a good administrator one day. If the two could only work together, they would make a pair hard to defeat in any Christian land.”

  Talon went to bed that night somewhat confused as he tried to understand the makeup of the English Royal family.

  The next day they left early and rode hard but with more care as they were now within the environs of Toulouse and Sir Guy did not want to draw unwanted attention to his little band before they could make a diversion around the south of the city. As he pointed out there would be awkward questions to answer as to why a party of English were in the area and had not visited the city to offer their respects to the Count of Toulouse or even request permission to cross his land. Two of the men were well forward of the main group watching for any large party that might be on the road going the opposite way.