"M'Lord!" he gasped to Sir Brian, catching hold of the far edge of the high table to hold himself upright. "Castle Smythe is attacked, and I have near ridden one of your horses to death to get the news to you as quick as possible."
Chapter Six
"Theoluf!" shouted Jim jumping to his feet, "fetch the men, as many as can be spared! Someone get me some fresh clothes and my plate armor! Brian—"
But Brian had already leaped from the table and was putting on his steel cap.
"Follow me as best as you can, James," he threw over his shoulder. "I cannot wait!"
He caught the messenger by the arm and swung him around.
"Can you still ride?"
"Aye, Sir Brian!" answered the man-at-arms who had brought the news. "Give me a fresh horse, only."
"Take what you want from my stables!" shouted Jim, as Brian and the man-at-arms headed out the door, Brian's grip on the other's left upper arm both supporting the man and impelling him forward at what was almost a run.
Jim and Angie followed him to the front door, where someone had already brought Brian's palfrey, plus a fresh horse for the Castle Smythe man-at-arms. Jim and Angie were just in time to see Brian vault from the ground into the saddle of his horse, in spite of the armor he was wearing, and touching only a toe to the near stirrup on the way.
Jim felt a twinge of envy. He could not do that himself. But then, Brian had practiced the vaulting mount since he was a boy.
Jim, on the other hand, had always been proud of his jumping ability. In AA-class volleyball he had been able to out-jump anyone else with ease. However, something about that vault onto the horse, particularly wearing heavy armor—which Brian could also do—defeated him. Jim could get up there; but he could not seem to land squarely in the saddle—and it could be very painful not to.
Jim and Angie turned back into the castle.
It was a good fifteen minutes before new ordinary clothes, its separate parts strongly attached to each other with Old Magic, could be brought for Jim to replace those which had been temporarily put back together at Carolinus's home; and Jim had been helped into his inherited, restructured suit of ill-fitting plate armor. He had half-expected objections from Angie; but apparently she was becoming as much a denizen of this world as he himself was. She kissed him good-bye just before he climbed up on Gorp.
"Watch yourself," was all she said.
"Believe me, I will!" answered Jim grimly.
He clambered aboard Gorp and led off his meager, hastily formed troop of some sixteen men-at-arms, Theoluf at their head and riding just behind his own left elbow. They all left the castle for the route that would lead them to Castle Smythe, Jim leading the way at a canter.
"M'Lord," said the voice of Theoluf at his left ear, "we must spare the horses."
"True." Jim reluctantly slowed Gorp to a trot. He had hoped to catch up with Sir Brian and learn more about what was going on at Castle Smythe; but reason now told him that he had no chance of catching them. Brian would be going all out with his single man-at-arms, to get back to whatever people of his own were still free to oppose whoever was doing the attacking.
The two of them could not be caught unless Jim and his men-at-arms also rode their own horses full out; and, as Theoluf had just pointed out, this was not a sensible thing to do. Jim had hoped to learn from Brian's man-at-arms about the attackers and the situation at Brian's castle, but clearly it was not possible. It was best that Jim and his men arrive in the best possible condition to fight.
In fact, Castle Smythe was not that distant; perhaps an hour and a half with a horse at a walk. Jim drew back even further on his reins and slowed Gorp to that pace. Even once they were there, it would be foolish to dive into battle until they had looked over the situation and talked to Sir Brian. The attackers might outnumber them by as much as ten or twenty to one, though it seemed unlikely that a really large force would have penetrated this far without the news of it reaching them from other neighbors.
Jim and all of his men-at-arms were now at a walking pace. He beckoned Theoluf to ride up level with him.
"What do you think?" he asked Theoluf. "Who could be attacking Castle Smythe? It's not as if it was the richest holding in these parts."
"But might be thought by a stranger to be one of the easiest taken," observed Theoluf.
"I see what you mean," answered Jim suddenly thoughtful. "In that case there're probably not too many making this attack. It wouldn't be one of the neighbors. Sir Brian's on good terms with all of them; and Norman law forbids us to fight each other in any case."
"Law is as law does," answered Theoluf skeptically. "Nonetheless, m'Lord, I think you're right. They'll not be neighbors. Nor are there any bands of outlaws large enough in this area to try such a thing; and we are too far south for raids by Scotsmen. Possibly these attackers were shipborne, and have come from the coast to search inland at a venture, looking for anything that they might take quickly and carry off before this part of England is raised against them."
Jim nodded. The words of the man-at-arms clearly drew the most possible picture. He said no more, and Theoluf let his horse drop back to a more proper position, half a horse length behind Jim and still to his left. They rode on, Jim containing his impatience as best he could.
It had been noon when he had come back from visiting Carolinus. It was now barely afternoon. Jim was suddenly and ridiculously reminded that he had had nothing to eat. Also, almost nothing to drink—except half a flagon of wine, which was now beginning to wear off, leaving him feeling rather dull and dispirited—even though he had of necessity come to adopt the rather heavy drinking standards of those about him.
The thought reminded him of something else. He turned his head and with a jerk of it beckoned Theoluf up beside him, so they could speak without being overheard by the rest of the men-at-arms behind him.
"Theoluf," he said in a voice that was just above the sound of the hoofbeats of their horses, "have the men had anything to eat since daybreak?"
Theoluf gave him a half-grin.
"Never fear, m'Lord," he answered. "A man-at-arms learns to make sure his belly is full at all times against some emergency such as this one." He paused and looked narrowly at Jim. "Has m'Lord eaten?"
"As a matter of fact, I haven't," said Jim, "since breakfast, anyway. I forgot all about it."
"If m'Lord will check the saddlebags on his horse," said Theoluf, "he might perhaps find that they had been provisioned before we left."
Jim checked his left saddlebag; and found that indeed Theoluf was correct. There were some thick slices of bread and cheese; and a large flask of wine. With the wine was a cup.
"Do we pass any streams fairly soon?" asked Jim.
"In another couple of furlongs we cross a small stream," said Theoluf. He looked at Jim questioningly.
The truth of the matter was, right now the last thing Jim wanted was more straight wine—in spite of the well-known idea of the hair of the dog being the cure for even a very small hangover. This notion, which was as current in this world, if not more so than it had been in his original one, was a tribute to the long life of folk remedies.
He was thirsty, and would have happily settled for plain water, if it was clean. Luckily, in this area, the streams were generally safe to drink from. It occurred to him now that something like perhaps a half-and-half combination of the wine in his flask and some stream water would both slake his thirst and help him wash down the bread and cheese. The cheese, particularly, would be pretty dry to swallow unless it was washed down.
When they reached the stream, he sent the troop on ahead, and stopped long enough, with Theoluf beside him, to drink his wine and water and eat some of the cheese and bread. Feeling much more optimistic with something in his stomach, he put away the rest of the food, the flask, and cup; and they rode on to catch up with the troop.
As they got closer to Castle Smythe, they went more slowly; moving off the trail entirely into the woods and spreading out; just in ca
se the attackers were encamped in the vicinity, or had someone on watch.
However, the precaution turned out to have been unnecessary. They made their way right to the edge of the cleared space which, like all castles, Castle Smythe maintained about itself for purposes of defense. Looking out through a screen of leaves, Jim saw a ragtag looking crew, perhaps a few less—but only a few less—than a hundred armed men. These were clustered in an untidy gang before the main entrance to the castle, clearly under the command of a large, black-bearded individual.
Castle Smythe was closed up tight; that is, as tight as it was possible to close it up. Its moat was half dry; there had evidently not been time to draw up the portcullis—or else the machinery that allowed it to be drawn up was not working; and the metal grille that should have defended the pair of heavy main gates was rusted to the point where it clearly would offer little resistance to a determined attack.
The gates themselves, however, were tightly closed; and still looked stout enough to offer some considerable resistance. However, it was just at this point that Jim noticed one reason the gang of attackers was not busy against the castle itself. They had felled a large tree and dragged it up before the gate; and were busy lopping off the last of its branches, to form a makeshift battering ram.
"Where do you suppose Sir Brian and that one man-at-arms of his have gone to?" Jim asked Theoluf.
The other was beside him, peering through the same screen of leaves at the scene before them. Jim had lowered his voice instinctively. They were actually far enough from those assaulting the castle not to be overheard by them; but it was the kind of situation in which lowered voices seemed called for. "I hope those people out there didn't capture the two of them—" Jim said.
"Never fear that, James," said a harsh voice right behind Jim. "They're in the woods just like you, around the other side of the castle, watching."
Jim turned and saw Aragh, the English wolf.
Aragh had appeared, noiselessly as usual for all of his size, behind the two of them. He stood on four legs, his mouth open, his tongue lolling out, and grinned at Jim.
"Aragh!" said Jim, happily and more loudly. "I'm glad to see you!"
"Why?" said Aragh. "Were you expecting me to help you?"
Since this was exactly the first thought that had crossed Jim's mind, he found himself momentarily at a loss for words.
"Well, I'm not," said Aragh. "I'm here to help the knight Brian. He's also a friend, ever since we were Companions together before the Loathly Tower, as well as yourself. Did you think I would abandon a friend?"
"No, of course I didn't think that," said Jim. "I merely meant I was glad to see you, in general."
"In general, or in particular, I'm here," said Aragh. "Fair number of strangers out there, isn't there?"
And he grinned again at Jim, his red tongue lolling out.
"Aragh," said Jim urgently, "you can move faster and more quietly than any of us; and besides you know where Sir Brian and his man-at-arms are right now. Would you go get them and bring them back here to us; so that we can all make plans together?"
"No need," answered Aragh. "They're already on their way here, since I told them sometime since that you were coming. Anyone but humans like yourself would have heard you and those great horses of yours crashing through the undergrowth, ten minutes back. I was speaking no less than the truth, back when you and Gorbash were in his body together, Jim, when I used to tell him he was somewhat slow of wit. But at least his ears would have heard you coming, and his nose smelled you, long before you got here. Not that any dragon was ever a match for any wolf in the matter of nose and ears; but at least his were useful for something. All you humans have are eyes. Or at least, that's all you use. But to answer your question: Sir Brian and that man with him should be here any moment now."
In fact, it was not more than a few moments later that Sir Brian and his man-at-arms showed up, the latter leading his horse and Brian's.
"James!" said Brian, as he came up to Jim. "I'm glad to have you here. How many men did you bring with you?"
"Sixteen, I think, wasn’t it Theoluf?" Jim looked around for Theoluf, and the chief man-at-arms nodded. "I left orders for the others to be gathered and follow me as soon as there were at least a dozen of them to come as a group. I'm afraid, more than another twelve we can't count on. A lot of them weren't likely to be back at the castle until the end of the day or even for a day or two. Even if they get here, we'll only have some twenty-eight or thirty men—counting you and I. Of course, there's Aragh here."
"Of course," said Aragh sarcastically. "James, you should know I'm worth half a dozen of your lazy men, all by myself."
"What we really need," said Sir Brian, "are some archers or crossbowmen. With them we could send a message to my people in the castle. As it is they've no knowledge we're out here."
"How many do you have in the castle—who could fight, I mean?" asked Jim.
The minute he said it, he realized that he should have phrased the question a little more delicately. Sir Brian looked definitely embarrassed.
"At present," he said, emphasizing the words perhaps a shade more heavily than was necessary, "I have only eleven men-at-arms there, and perhaps half as many of the castle staff, who could use a sword or other weapon if they had to."
"Perhaps another sixteen, all told?" asked Jim.
"Call it seventeen," answered Sir Brian, "though the last is my squire and little more than a boy. Still this is a scurvy lot in front of us. Even the seventeen could be of use, if they could sally at a moment when the rest of us are hitting these reivers from without."
He looked grimly at Jim.
"They and we together make thirty-seven at most, to attack more than double our number," he went on, "for I fear me we've no time to wait for the rest of your men-at-arms to catch up with you. Those out there will be using their tree trunk against my gates within the quarter hour. The gates are good, but they are also all that keep the castle, now. Once these attackers break through, they'll be inside. I fear me we must do what we can with what we have and no further delay. As I say, the gates are stout, but that battering ram will be through them in half an hour."
"Ah," said Aragh beside them, cocking his head on one side. "Two more come—and a pair more used to moving through the woodland at least a little more lightly than the rest of you. Ha!"
There was a note of pleased surprise in his voice—a strange thing for Aragh.
"It is Danielle and that long Welsh arrow-shooter of hers she now calls husband," Aragh went on.
Jim and Sir Brian looked at each other, startled.
"I did pass word to you she was coming to visit—they are coming, I mean," said Brian, "though, come to think of it, Castle Smythe is somewhat on the way they would wend to Malencontri, in any case. But still, how do they know of us being here?"
"If they've anything in the way of ears at all, they've probably heard the lot of you tramping around,'' said Aragh sourly. "In any case, here they are, now."
A moment later, both she who had been Danielle o'the Wold, daughter of Giles o'the Wold who was leader of the outlaws in the Wold, and Dafydd ap Hywel, a master bowman—indeed, the master bowman of all bowmen, if there was any justice in the world, thought Jim—appeared through the greenery. Dafydd's great longbow, that only he could pull and hold steady on target; and which he himself had made, as he had also lovingly and magnificently made his arrows—the stave of that longbow, unslung, was being carried on his back. His left arm was in a green cloth sling.
"Father's on his way with his men," said Danielle without preamble as she came up to them. "He heard about this raiding group, judged it was headed this way and that Castle Smythe might well need aid. But it would take him a little time to get the men together. Dafydd and I came on ahead, both being able to move light and fast. Ah, Aragh!"
She stopped to caress Aragh, who was fawning upon her and doing his best to lick her face at the same time.
"What happened to
your arm, man?" commanded Brian.
"A light strain, only—" Dafydd was beginning, when Danielle interrupted sharply.
"A broken collarbone, you mean," she said. "Wrestling two of father's band at once. Showing off, as usual!"
"Well, perhaps it may be," said Dafydd, in that mild, musical voice of his that seemed so at odds with his herculean frame. He tapered from his broad shoulders to his narrow hips like some statue which had aimed to exaggerate the physical attributes of an athlete; and he was even taller than Jim, as well as standing as straight as one of his own arrows. "By myself, I would have thought little of it. Still, sorry I am that I and my bow can be of little use to you in this hap, Sir Brian."
"It can't be helped," said Jim, "though it's sad. Sir Brian here was just hoping we had some means of sending an arrow with a message over the wall to his men within the castle. We need to let them know we're here; and warn them of some signal from us, so that they can sally at the same time as we attack those men from here. If you look, you'll see they're just about to start battering down the main gates of the castle; and Sir Brian says that's all there is to hold them out. Once inside, their sheer numbers will overwhelm anyone there."
"Indeed, I may be of little use," said Dafydd, "but still we do not lack a bow."
He looked at his wife.
"Absolutely not!" snapped Danielle, darting an angry glance both at Jim and Brian. "You know perfectly well I can put an arrow inside that castle from here as well as any bowman!"
"To be sure, mistress," said Brian hastily, "I merely had not thought—"
"Well do so, next time!" said Danielle.
Aragh growled an agreement.
"I take it you were thinking of an arrow shaft shot high above the heads of those men out there and also over the walls to drop inside the interior courtyard?" went on Danielle, in a calmer voice, "possibly with a message wrapped around the shaft—can anyone inside your castle read?"
"There is at least one—possibly two," said Brian, "who might be able to understand such scratchings in words as I myself might write. But I can make the message a better way. I—I thank you, mistress Danielle. You make all the difference in the world, if you make it possible for those inside to know when to sally. We are so small in number that we and they must hit these people at the same time to be of any use. Sir James has more men on the way; but in no case can we wait for them."