No, I came here because if ever the descendants of the dark lords were to seek the Grail then they would come here, I knew that, and I wanted to see what would happen. But that curiosity died long ago. G.o.d gave me many years, He was pleased to make me abbot, and He has enfolded me in His mercy. And the Grail? I confess I searched for memories of it when I first came here, and my abbot chided me for that, but G.o.d brought me to my senses. I now think my grandfather was right and that it is a tale invented to spite the Church and a mystery to make men mad." It existed. Vexille said.

Then I pray to G.o.d that I find it. Planchard said, and when I do I shall hide it in the deepest ocean so that no more folk will ever die in its pursuit. But what would you do with the Grail, Guy Vexille?"

Use it. Vexille said harshly.

For what?"

To cleanse the world of sin.

That would be a great work. Planchard said, but even Christ could not achieve it.

Do you abandon weeding between the vines simply because the weeds always grow back?" Vexille asked.

No, of course not.

Then Christ's work must go on. Vexille said.

The abbot watched the soldier for a time. You are Christ's instrument? Or Cardinal Bessieres's tool?"

Vexille grimaced. The Cardinal is like the Church, Planchard. Cruel, corrupt and evil.

Planchard did not contradict him. So?"

So a new Church is needed. A clean Church, a sinless Church, a Church filled with honest men who live in G.o.d's fear. The Grail will bring that.

Planchard smiled. The Cardinal, I am sure, would not approve. The Cardinal sent his brother here. Vexille said, and doubt less he has orders to kill me when I have been useful. And your usefulness is what?"

To find the Grail. And to do that, I must first find my cousin. You think he knows where it is?"

I think his father possessed it. Guy Vexille said, and I think the son knows of it.

He thinks the same of you. Planchard said. And I think the two of you are like blind men who each thinks the other can see. Vexille laughed at that. Thomas. he said, is a fool. He brought men to Gascony for what? To find the Grail? Or to find me? But he failed and now he's a fugitive. A good few of his men have pledged their allegiance to the Count of Berat and the rest are trapped at Castillon d'Arbizon and how long will they last? Two months? He has failed, Planchard, failed. He might be blind, but I see, and I will have him and I will take what he knows. But what do you know?"

I have told you. Nothing."

Vexille paced back to the chamber and stared at the abbot. I could put you to the torture, old man."

You could," Planchard agreed mildly, and I would doubtless scream to be spared the torment, but you will find no more truth in those screams than I have told you willingly here." He tucked his beads away and stood to his full height. And I would beg you in the name of Christ to spare this community. It knows nothing of the Grail, it can tell you nothing, and it can give you nothing." And I will spare nothing," Vexille said, in the service of G.o.d. Nothing." He drew his sword. Planchard watched expressionless, and did not even flinch as the sword was pointed at him. Swear on this," Vexille said, that you know nothing of the Grail." I have told you all I know. Planchard said and, instead of touching the sword, he raised the wooden crucifix that hung about his neck, and kissed it. I will not swear on your sword, but I do make oath on my dear Lord's cross that I know nothing of the Grail."

But your family still betrayed us," Vexille said. Betrayed you?"

Your grandfather was one of the seven. He recanted." So he betrayed you? By cleaving to the true faith?" Planchard frowned. Are you telling me you keep the Cathar heresy, Guy Vexille?"

We come to bring light to the world," Vexille said, and to purge it of the Church's foulness. I have kept the faith, Planchard." Then you are the only man who has. Planchard said, and it is an heretical faith."

They crucified Christ for heresy. Vexille said," so to be named a heretic is to be one with Him. Then he rammed the blade forward, into the base of Planchard's throat, and the old man, amazingly, did not appear to put up any struggle, but just clutched his crucifix as the blood surged from his throat to turn his white robe red. He took a long time to die, but eventually he slumped over and Vexille withdrew his sword and wiped the blade clean on the hem of the abbot's robe. He sheathed the blade and picked up the lantern.

He glanced about the ossuary, but saw nothing to worry him and so he climbed the stairs. The door shut, cutting off all light. And Thomas and Genevieve, hidden in the dark, waited. They waited all night. It seemed to Thomas he did not sleep at all, but he must have dozed for he woke once when Genevieve sneezed. Her wound was hurting, but she said nothing of it, just waited and half slept.

They had no idea when morning came for it was pitch dark in the ossuary. They had heard nothing all night. No footsteps, no screams, no chanted prayers, just the silence of the tomb. And still they waited until Thomas could abide the wait no longer and he wriggled out of their hole, across the bones and down to the floor. Genevieve stayed where she was as Thomas felt his way through the scattered bones to the stairs. He crept up, listened at the top for a while, heard nothing and so eased the broken door open. The abbey church was empty. He knew it was morning for the light came from the east, but it was hard to tell how high the sun had risen for the light was soft-edged, diffuse, and Thomas guessed there was a morning fog.

He went back down to the ossuary. He kicked something wooden as he crossed the floor and he stooped to find the empty grail box. For a moment he was tempted to return it to its chest, then he decided to keep it. It would just fit into his bag, he reckoned. Genevieve!" he called softly. Come."

She pushed their bags, his bow and the arrows, the mail and their cloaks across the bones, then followed, wincing at the pain in her shoulder. Thomas had to help her put on the mail and he hurt her when he lifted her arm. He put on his own, draped the cloaks about their shoulders, then strung his bow so he could wear it on his back. He belted his sword in place, put the box in his bag, which he hung from his belt, and then, carrying the arrow sheaves, turned to the stairs and saw, because just enough light spilled from the open door, the white robe in the treasury chamber. He motioned Genevieve to stay where she was and crept up the vault. Rats scampered away as he came to the low arch and there he stopped and stared. Planchard was dead.

What is it?" Genevieve asked.

The b.a.s.t.a.r.d killed him. Thomas said in astonishment. Who?"

The abbot!" He spoke in a whisper and, though he was excom municated, he made the sign of the cross. He killed him!" He had listened to the end of Vexille and Planchard's conversation and had been puzzled that the abbot fell silent, and equally puzzled that he had only heard one set of feet climb the stairs, but he had never imagined this. Never. He was a good man," he said. And if he's dead. Genevieve said, they'll blame us. So come on! Come!"

Thomas hated to leave the b.l.o.o.d.y corpse in the cellar, but knew he had no choice. And Genevieve was right, they would be blamed. Planchard had died because his grandfather had recanted a heresy, but no one would believe that, not when two condemned heretics were there to blame.

He led her up the stairs. The church was still empty, but now Thomas thought he could hear voices beyond the open western door. There was a fog outside and some of it was spilling into the nave and spreading gently across the flagstones. He thought of going back to the ossuary and hiding again, then wondered whether his cousin would make a more thorough search of the whole monastery today and that decided him to keep going. This way." He took Genevieve's hand and led her to the southern side of the church where a door led to the inner cloister. It was the door the monks used when they came for prayers, a devotion that had evidently been denied them this morning.

Thomas pushed the door, flinching when its hinges creaked, and peered through. At first he thought the cloister, like the church, was empty; then he saw a group of black-cloaked men at its far side. They were standing at a doorway, evidently listening to someone inside, and none looked round as Thomas and Genevieve flitted under the shadowed arcade and chose a door at random. It opened onto a corridor and at its end they found themselves in the monastery kitchen where two monks were stirring a vast cauldron above a fire. One of them saw Genevieve and looked as if he was about to protest at a woman's presence, but Thomas hissed at him to be silent. Where are the other monks?" Thomas asked. In their cells. the frightened cook replied, then watched as the two of them ran across the kitchen, past the table with its cleavers and spoons and bowls and beneath the hooks where two goat carca.s.ses hung, and disappeared out of the far door, which led into the olive grove where Thomas had abandoned their horses. Those horses were gone.

The gate to the lazar house was open. Thomas glanced at it, then turned westwards, but Genevieve plucked at his cloak and pointed through the fog and Thomas saw a black-cloaked rider beyond the trees. Was the man part of a cordon? Had Vexille placed men all about the monastery? It seemed likely and it seemed even more likely that the horseman would turn and see them, or that the two kitchen monks might raise the alarm, but then Genevieve plucked his cloak again and led him across the olive grove and into the lazar house.

It was empty. All men feared lepers and it seemed to Thomas that Vexille must have driven them away so his men could search the sheds. We can't hide here," he whispered to Genevieve. They'll search again."

We don't hide," she said, and she went into the biggest shed and came out with two grey robes. Thomas understood then. He helped drape one robe over Genevieve, pulling its hood over her golden hair, donned the other and then took two clappers from the handful left on the table. Genevieve, meanwhile, had put the arrow sheaves and Thomas's bow on a sledge that the lepers used to gather firewood and Thomas heaped some of the firewood over the weapons and put the sledge's looped rope over his shoulders. Now we go," Genevieve said.

Thomas hauled the sledge, which ran easily on the damp ground. Genevieve went ahead and, once out of the gate, she turned north and west, hoping to avoid the horseman. The fog was their ally, a grey cloak in which their own cloaks melded. A tongue of wood land reached from the western ridge and Genevieve walked towards it, not sounding the clapper, but just watching. She hissed once and Thomas went still. A horse's hooves sounded; he heard them go away, and he hauled on. He turned after a while and saw that the monastery had vanished. The trees ahead were gaunt black shapes in the vapour. They were following a track that the lepers used when they went to gather mushrooms from the woods. The trees came closer, then the thud of hooves sounded once more and Genevieve rattled her clapper in warning.

But the horseman was not deterred. He came from behind them and Thomas shook his own clapper as he turned. He kept his head low so his face would not be seen under the robe's hood. He saw the horse's legs, but not the rider. Mercy, kind sir," he said, mercy." Genevieve reached out her hands as if seeking charity, and the scars on her skin left by Father Roubert looked grotesque. Thomas did the same, revealing his own scars, the skin white and ridged. Alms," he said, of your kindness, sir, alms." The unseen horseman stared at them and they dropped to their knees. The horse's breath came as great clouds of thicker fog. Have pity on us." Genevieve spoke in the local tongue, using a rasping voice. For G.o.d's sake, have pity."

The horseman just sat there and Thomas dared not look up. He felt the abject fear of a defenceless man at the mercy of a mailed rider, but he also knew that the man was torn by indecision. He had doubtless been ordered to look for two people escaping the monastery, and he had found just such a couple, but they appeared to be lepers and his fear of leprosy was fighting with his duty. Then, suddenly, more clappers sounded and Thomas sneaked a look behind him to see a group of grey shrouded figures coming from the trees, sounding their warn ings and calling out for alms. The sight of more lepers, coming to join the first two, was more than the horseman could take. He spat at them, then wrenched his reins to turn away. Thomas and Genevieve waited, still on their knees, until the man was half cloaked in the fog and then they hurried on to the trees where at last they could throw down the clappers, strip off the stinking grey robes and retrieve the bow and arrow sheaves. The other lepers, driven from their refuge at the monastery, just stared at them. Thomas took a handful of coins from those Sir Guillaume had given him and left them on the gra.s.s. You have not seen us," he said to them, and Genevieve repeated the words in the local language.

They walked on west, climbing out of the fog, keeping to the trees until there were no more woods, only a rocky slope going up to the ridge. They scrambled up, trying to stay behind boulders or in gullies, while behind them the fog burned off the valley. The roof of the abbey church appeared first, then the other roofs, and by mid-morning the whole monastery was visible, but Thomas and Genevieve were already on the crest, going south. If they had kept going westwards they would descend into the valley of the River Gers where the villages lay thick, while to the south was emptier, wilder country and that was where they were headed. At midday they stopped to rest. We have no food," Thomas said.

Then we go hungry," Genevieve said. She smiled at him. And where are we going?"

Castillon d'Arbizon," Thomas said, eventually." Going back there!" She was surprised. But they threw us out: why would they take us back?"

Because they need us," Thomas said. He did not know that, not for sure, but he had listened to Vexille talking to Planchard and had learned that some of the garrison had gone over to the Count of Berat, and he reckoned Robbie must have led that group. He could not imagine Sir Guillaume breaking his allegiance to the Earl of Northampton, but Robbie had no allegiance outside of Scotland. It was Thomas's guess that the men left at Castillon d'Arbizon were his own men, the men he had recruited outside Calais, the Englishmen. So he would go there, and if he found the castle slighted and the garrison dead then he would go on, ever westwards, until he reached the English possessions.

But first they would go southwards for that was where the great woods stretched in folds across the ridges running out of the mountains. He picked up his baggage and, as he did, the grail box, which had been stuffed into his archer's bag on top of the spare arrow heads, sharpening stone and cords, fell out. He sat again and picked up the box. What is it?" Genevieve asked.

Planchard believed it was the box that held the Grail," he told her, or maybe the box that was supposed to make men think it had held the Grail." He stared at the fading inscription. Now that he could see the box properly, in the sunlight, he saw that the lettering had been in red and that where the paint had been rubbed away there was still a faint impression on the wood. There was another faint impression inside the box, a circle of dust that had been forced into the wood as if something had rested there a long time. The two iron hinges were rusted and fragile, and the wood so dry that it weighed almost nothing.

Is it real?" Genevieve asked.

It's real," Thomas said, but whether it ever held the Grail, I don't know." And he thought how often he had said those last three words whenever he talked about the Grail.

Yet he knew more now. He knew that seven men had fled Astarac in the previous century, back when the forces of France, wearing the crusaders" cross, had come to burn a heresy from the southland. The men had fled, claiming to take a treasure, and they had pledged to defend it, and now, so many years later, only Guy Vexille had kept the twisted faith. And had Thomas's father really possessed the Grail? That was why Guy Vexille had gone to Hookton and murdered his way through the village, just as he had now murdered Planchard. The descendants of the dark lords were being purged for betraying the trust, and Thomas knew exactly what would happen to him if his cousin caught him.

It's a strange shape for a Grail. Genevieve said. The box was shallow and square, not tall as though a stemmed cup had once been stored in it.

Who knows what the Grail looks like?" Thomas asked, and then he put the box into his haversack and they walked on southwards. Thomas constantly glanced behind and around mid-afternoon he saw dark-cloaked men riding up to the ridge from the monastery. There were a dozen of them and he guessed they would use the ridge as a lookout. Guy Vexille must have searched the monastery again and found nothing so now he was spreading his net wider. They hurried. As evening approached they were in sight of the jumbled rocks where Genevieve had been wounded; the wood lands were not far ahead now, but Thomas kept looking behind, expecting the dozen riders to appear at any moment. Instead, more men appeared to the east, another twelve climbing the track which led across the ridge, and Thomas and Genevieve ran across the gra.s.s and vanished into the trees just moments before the new hors.e.m.e.n appeared on the crest.

The two lay in the undergrowth, catching their breath. The twelve new riders sat in the open, waiting, and after a while the first hors.e.m.e.n appeared like a line of beaters. They had been searching the open part of the ridge, hoping to flush Thomas and Genevieve out of cover, and Thomas understood that his cousin had foreseen exactly what he would do, had foreseen that he would try to reach Castillon d'Arbizon, or at least journey west towards the other English garrisons, and now his men were combing all the landscape west of Astarac. And even as Thomas watched, his cousin came into sight, leading another score of men who joined the others on the gra.s.sy crest. There were now over forty men-at-arms on the high ground, all in mail or plate, all cloaked in black, all with long swords.

What do we do?" Genevieve breathed the question. Hide," Thomas said.

They wriggled backwards, trying to make no sound, and when they were deep in the trees Thomas led her eastwards. He was going back towards Astarac because he doubted Guy would expect that, and when they reached the edge of the high ground and could see the valley spread out in front of them, Thomas sidled north again to see what his pursuers were doing.

Half of them had gone on westwards to block the tracks crossing the neighbouring valley, but the rest, led by Vexille, were riding towards the trees. They would be the beaters again, hoping to drive Thomas and Genevieve out towards the other men-at-arms and, now that the hors.e.m.e.n were closer, Thomas could see that some of them were carrying crossbows.

We're safe for the moment," Thomas told Genevieve when he rejoined her in the rocky gully where she sheltered. He reckoned he had slipped inside his cousin's cordon that was driving outwards, and the farther it went the wider that cordon would become and the easier it would be to slip between its gaps. But that must wait till morning because the sun was already sinking towards the western clouds, touching them pink. Thomas listened to the sound of the woods, but heard nothing alarming, only the scrabble of claws on bark, the wing beats of a pigeon and the sigh of the wind. The black-cloaked riders had gone westwards, but to the east, down in the valley, their work was visible. There were still soldiers down there and those men had fired the lazar house so that its smoke smeared all the sky above the monastery, and they had also burned what remained of the village, reckoning the flames would drive anyone concealed in the cottages into the open. More men were in the ruins of the castle, and Thomas wondered what they did there, but he was much too far away to see.

We have to eat. he told Genevieve.

We have nothing," she said.

Then we'll look for mushrooms," Thomas said, and nuts. And we need water."

They found a tiny streamlet to the south and they both slaked their thirst by thrusting their faces against a rock down which the water trickled, then Thomas made a bed of bracken in the streamlet's gully and, when he was satisfied that they would be well hidden there, he left Genevieve and went in search of food. He carried his bow and had a half-dozen arrows in his belt, not just for defence, but in hope of seeing a deer or pig. He found some mushrooms in the leaf mould, but they were small and black vaned and he was not sure whether they were poisonous. He went farther, looking for chestnuts or game, always creeping, always listening, and always keeping the edge of the ridge in sight. He heard a noise and turned fast and thought he saw a deer, but the shadows were lengthening and he could not be certain; he put an arrow on the string anyway and crept to where he had seen the flickering movement. This was the rutting season and the stags should be in the woods, looking for others to fight. He knew he dared not light a fire to cook the meat, but he had eaten raw liver before and it would be a feast this night. Then he saw the antlers and he moved to one side, half crouching, trying to bring the stag's body into view and just then the crossbow shot and the bolt hissed past him to thump into a tree and the stag took off in great bounds as Thomas twisted round, hauling back the bowcord, and saw the men drawing their swords.

He had walked into a trap.

And he was caught.

PART THREE.

The Darkness

The search of the monastery had yielded nothing except the body of Abbot Planchard and Guy Vexille, on being told of the old man's death, loudly blamed his missing cousin. He had then ordered a search of all the buildings, commanded that the village and lazar house be fired to make certain no fugitives were hiding in either, and then, reluctantly convinced that his prey had fled, he sent hors.e.m.e.n to search all the nearby woods. The discovery of a pair of discarded lepers" robes and two wooden clappers in the western woods suggested what had happened and Vexille confronted the hors.e.m.e.n who had been guarding that side of the monastery. Both men swore they had seen nothing. He did not believe them, but there was little to be gained by challenging their a.s.sertions and so, instead, he sent hors.e.m.e.n to rake every path which led towards the English possessions in Gascony. When he ordered Charles Bessieres to add his men to the search, however, Bessieres refused. He claimed his horses were lame and his men tired. I don't take your orders," Bessieres snarled. I'm here for my brother."

And your brother wants the Englishman found," Vexille insisted. Then you find him, my lord," Bessieres said, making the last two words sound like an insult.

Vexille rode west with all his men, knowing that Bessieres probably wanted to stay behind to plunder the village and monastery, and that was precisely what Charles Bessieres did, though he found little enough. He sent six of his men to rake through the pathetic belongings that the villagers had saved from the new flames, and they discovered some pots and pans that might sell for a few sous, but what they really wanted were the coins that the villagers would have hidden when they saw armed men coming. Everyone knew that peasants h.o.a.rded small amounts of cash, and buried it when mailed raiders appeared, and so Bessieres's men tortured the serfs to make them reveal the hiding places and, in so doing, discovered something far more intriguing. One of Charles's men spoke the language of southern France and he had been sawing at a prisoner's fingers when the man blurted out that the old Count had been digging in the castle ruins and had uncovered an ancient wall beneath the chapel but then had died before he was able to delve farther. That interested Bessieres, because the man suggested there was something behind the wall, something that had excited the old Count and which the abbot, G.o.d save his soul, had wanted hidden and so, once Vexille had vanished westwards, Bessieres led his men up to the old fortress.

It took less than an hour to prise up the flagstones and reveal the vault, and in another hour Bessieres had pulled out the old coffins and seen that they had already been plundered. The man from the village was fetched and he showed where the Count had been digging and Bessieres ordered his men to uncover the wall. He made them work fast, wanting to finish the job before Guy Vexille returned and accused him of desecrating his family's graves, but the wall was stoutly made and well mortared, and it was not until one of his men fetched the blacksmith's heaviest hammer from the plunder taken from the burned village that he made real progress. The hammer crashed on the stones, chipping and dislodging them, until at last they were able to get an iron spike between the lower blocks and the wall came tumbling down.

And inside, on a stone pillar, was a box.

It was a wooden box, perhaps big enough to hold a man's head, and even Charles Bessieres felt a surge of excitement as he saw it. The Grail, he thought, the Grail, and he imagined riding north with the prize that would give his brother the papacy. Out of the way," he snarled at a man reaching for the treasure, then he stooped into the low s.p.a.ce and took the wooden box from its pedestal. The chest was cunningly made, for it seemed to have no lid. On one side, Bessieres a.s.sumed it was the top, was inset a silver cross that had become tarnished over the years, but there was no writing on the box and no clue as to what might be inside. Bessieres shook it and heard something rattle. He paused then. He was thinking that perhaps the real Grail was in his hands, but if the box proved to hold something else then this might be a good time to take the fake Grail from the quiver at his belt and pretend he had discovered it beneath Astarac's ruined altar.

Open it. one of his men said.

Shut your mouth. Bessieres said, wanting to think some more. The Englishman was still at large, but he would probably be caught, and suppose he had the Grail and the one at his hip was thus revealed as a fake? Bessieres faced the same dilemma that had puzzled him in the ossuary when he'd had a simple chance to kill Vexille. Produce the Grail at the wrong time and there would be no easy life in the papal palace at Avignon. So it was best, he thought, to wait for the Englishman's capture and thus make sure there was only one Grail to be carried to Paris. Yet perhaps this box contained the treasure?

He carried it up to the daylight and there he drew his knife and hacked at the box's well-made joints. One of his men offered to use the blacksmith's hammer to splinter the wood apart, but Bessieres cursed him for a fool. You want to break what's inside?" he asked. He cuffed the man aside and went on working with the knife until he finally succeeded in splitting one side away. The contents were wrapped in white woollen cloth. Bessieres eased them out, daring to hope that this was the great prize. His men crowded around expectantly as Bessieres unwound the old, threadbare cloth.

To find bones.

A skull, some foot bones, a shoulder-blade and three ribs. Bessieres stared at them, then cursed. His men began to laugh and Bessieres, in his anger, kicked the skull so that it flew down into the vault, rolled for a few paces, and then was still. He had blunted his good knife to find the few remaining bones of the famous healer of angels, Saint Sever.

And the Grail was still hidden.

The coredors had been intrigued by the activity around Astarac. Whenever armed men pillaged a town or village there would be fugitives who made easy pickings for desperate and hungry outlaws, and Destral, who led close to a hundred coredors, had watched the harrowing of Astarac and noted the folk fleeing the soldiers and watched where they went.

Most of the coredors were fugitives themselves, though not all. Some were just men down on their luck, others had been discharged from the wars and a handful had refused to accept their given place as serfs belonging to a master. In summer they preyed on the flocks taken to the high pastures and ambushed careless travellers in the mountain pa.s.ses, but in winter they were forced to lower ground to find victims and shelter. Men came and went from the band, bringing and taking their women with them. Some of the men died of disease, others took their plunder and left to make a more honest living, while a few were killed in fights over women or wagers, though very few died in fights with outsiders. The old Count of Berat had tolerated Destral's band so long as they did no great damage, reckoning it a waste of money to hire men-at-arms to scour mountains riven with gullies and thick with caves. Instead he put garrisons wherever there was wealth to attract coredors and made sure the wagons carrying his tax tribute from the towns were well guarded. Merchants, travelling away from the main roads, took care to move in convoy with their own hired soldiers, and what was left was the coredors" pickings, which sometimes they had to fight for because routiers encroached on their territory. A routier was almost a coredor, except that routiers were better organized. They were soldiers without employment, armed and experienced, and routiers would sometimes take a town and ransack it, garrison it, keep it till it was wrung dry and then travel again. Few lords were willing to fight them for the routiers were trained soldiers and formed small vicious armies that fought with the fanaticism of men who had nothing to lose. Their predations stopped whenever a war started and the lords offered money for soldiers. Then the routiers would take a new oath, go to war and fight until a truce was called, and then, knowing no trade except killing, they would go back to the lonelier stretches of country side and find a town to savage.

Destral hated routiers. He hated all soldiers for they were the natural enemies of coredors, and though, as a rule, he avoided them, he would allow his men to attack them if he had a great advantage in numbers. Soldiers were a good source for weapons, armour and horses, and so, on the evening when the smoke from the burning village and lazar house was smearing the sky above Astarac, he allowed one of his deputies to lead an attack on a half dozen black-cloaked men-at-arms who had strayed a short way into the trees. The attack was a mistake. The riders were not alone, there were others just beyond the woods, and suddenly the gloom beneath the trees was loud with horses" hooves and the sc.r.a.pe of swords leaving scabbards.

Destral did not know what was happening at the wood's edge. He was deeper among the trees in a place where a limestone crag reared up from the oaks and a small stream fell from the heights. Two caves offered shelter, and this was where Destral planned to spend his winter, high enough in the hills to offer protection, but close enough to the valleys so his men could raid the villages and farms, and it was here that the two fugitives from Astarac had been brought. The pair had been captured at the edge of the ridge and escorted back to the clearing in front of the caves where Destral had prepared fires, though he would not light the wood until he was sure the soldiers were dealt with. Now, in the evening's twilight, he saw his men had brought him a greater prize than he had dared dream of because one of the two captives was an English archer and the other was a woman, and women were always scarce among the coredors. She would have her uses, but the Englishman would, have a greater value. He could be sold. He also possessed a bag of money, a sword and a mail coat, which meant his capture, for Destral, was a triumph made even sweeter because this was the same man who had killed half a dozen of his men with his arrows. The coredors searched Thomas's haversack and stole his flint and steel, the spare bowcords and the few coins Thomas had stored there, but they threw away the spare arrow heads and the empty box which they considered a thing of no value. They stripped him of his arrows and gave his bow to Destral who tried to draw it and became enraged when, despite his strength, he could not haul the string back more than a few inches. Just chop off his fingers. he snarled, throwing down the bow, and strip her naked." Philin intervened then. A man and a woman had seized Genevieve and were hauling the mail shirt over her head, ignoring her shrieks of pain, and Thomas was trying to break away from the two men holding his arms, when Philin shouted that they were all to stop.

Stop?" Destral turned on Philin in disbelief at the challenge. You've gone soft?" he accused Philin. You want us to spare him?" I asked him to join us," Philin said nervously. Because he let my son live."

Thomas did not understand any of the conversation, which was being held in the local tongue, but it was plain that Philin was pleading for his life, and it was equally plain that Destral, whose nickname came from the great axe that was slung on his shoulder, was in no mood to grant the request. You want him to join us?" Destral roared. Why? Because he spared your son? Jesus Christ, but you're a weak b.a.s.t.a.r.d. You're a lily-livered piece of snot-nosed s.h.i.t." He unslung the axe, looped the cord tied to its handle about his wrist, and advanced on the tall Philin. I let you lead men and you have half of them killed! That man and his woman did that, and you'd have him join us? If it wasn't for the reward I'd kill him now. I'd slit his belly and hang him by his own rotten guts, but instead he'll lose a finger for every man of mine he killed." He spat towards Thomas then pointed the axe at Genevieve. Then he can watch her warm my bed."

I asked him to join us. Philin repeated stubbornly. His son, his leg in a splint and with crude crutches cut from oak boughs beneath his shoulders, swung across to stand beside his father. Will you fight for him?" Destral asked. He was not as tall as Philin, but he was broad across the shoulders and had a squat brute strength. His face was flat with a broken nose and he had eyes like a mastiff; eyes that almost glowed with the thought of violence. His beard was matted, strung with dried spittle and sc.r.a.ps of food. He swung the axe so its head glittered in the dying light. Fight me. he said to Philin, his voice hungry.

I just want him to live. Philin said, unwilling to draw a sword on his mad-eyed leader, but the other coredors had smelt blood, plenty of it, and they were making a rough circle and egging Destral on. They grinned and shouted, wanting the fight, and Philin backed away until he could go no farther.

Fight!" the men shouted. Fight!" Their women were screaming as well, shouting at Philin to be a man and face the axe. Those closest to Philin shoved him hard forward so that he had to jump aside to stop himself colliding with Destral who, scornful, slapped him in the face and then tugged his beard in insult. Fight me," Destral said, or else slice off the Englishman's fingers yourself."

Thomas still did not know what was being said, but the unhappy look on Philin's face told him it was nothing good. Go on!" Destral said. Cut off his fingers! Either that, Philin, or I'll cut off your fingers."

Galdric, Philin's son, drew his own knife and pushed it towards his father. Do it. the boy said, and when his father would not take the knife he looked at Destral. I'll do it!" the boy offered. Your father will do it," Destral said, amused, and he'll do it with this." He unlooped the wrist strap and offered the axe to Philin.

And Philin, too terrified to disobey, took the weapon and walked towards Thomas. I'm sorry," he spoke in French. For what?"

Because I have no choice." Philin looked miserable, a humili ated man, and he knew the other coredors were enjoying his shame. Put your hands on the tree," he said, then repeated the order in his own language and the men holding Thomas forced his arms up until both his crooked hands were flat against the bark. They held Thomas by the forearms as Philin came close. I'm sorry," Philin said again. You must lose your fingers." Thomas watched him. Saw how nervous he was. Understood that the axe blow, when it came, was as likely to chop him at the wrist instead of the fingers. Do it quickly," he said. No!" Genevieve shouted and the couple holding her laughed. Quickly," Thomas said, and Philin drew the axe back. He paused, licked his lips, took one last anguished look into Thomas's eyes, then swung.

Thomas had let the men force him against the tree; he didn't try to pull away from them until the axe came. Only then did he use his huge strength to tear himself from their grasp. The two men, astonished by the power of an archer trained to use the long yew bow, flailed as Thomas s.n.a.t.c.hed the axe out of the air and with a bellow of rage turned it on the man holding Genevieve. His first swing split that man's skull, the woman instinctively let go of Genevieve's other arm and Thomas wheeled back to beat down the men who had been holding his arms against the tree. He was screaming his war cry, the battle shout of England: Saint George!

Saint George!" and he lashed the heavy blade at the nearest man just as the hors.e.m.e.n came from the trees.

For a heartbeat the coredors were caught between the need to overwhelm Thomas and the danger of the hors.e.m.e.n, then they realized the riders were by far the more dangerous enemy and they did what all men instinctively did when faced by galloping men-at-arms. They ran for the trees and Guy Vexille's black-robed riders spurred among them, swinging swords and killing with brutal ease. Destral, oblivious of their threat, had run straight at Thomas and Thomas thrust the axehead into the squat man's face, shattering the bridge of his nose and hurling him backwards, then Thomas let go of the clumsy weapon, seized his bow and arrow bag and s.n.a.t.c.hed Genevieve's wrist.

They ran.

There was safety in the trees. The trunks and low branches stopped the hors.e.m.e.n running free in the wood, and the darkness was coming fast to obscure their view, but in the clearing the hors.e.m.e.n were wheeling, cutting, wheeling again, and the coredors who had failed to escape into the trees were dying like sheep savaged by wolves.

Philin was beside Thomas now, but his son, on his awkward crutches, was still in the clearing and a horseman saw the boy, turned and lined his sword. Galdric!" Philin shouted, and he started to run to save the boy, but Thomas tripped him, then put an arrow on the string.

The rider was holding the sword low, intending to jab the point into the small of Galdric's back. He touched his horse with his spurs and it accelerated just as the arrow whipped from the shadows to slice his throat open. The horse wheeled away, its rider spilling from the saddle in a stream of blood. Thomas shot a second arrow that flashed past the boy to spit Destral through one eye, then he looked for his cousin among the hors.e.m.e.n, but it was so dim now that he could not make out any faces.