Sworn Sword (Conquest #1)

‘Thank you, father,’ I said, though I was not sure that I wanted the attention of any more monks. And in every other respect I was feeling well.

We had reached the top of the mound, and I could look down on the bailey below and on the men training, their blades flashing, their shouts and their laughter carrying on the wind. The castle, I saw, was bounded by water on all but its northern approach, standing as it did at the meeting-point of two rivers: the Use, which led to the Humbre and the sea; and another, the name of which I did not know.

The retainers standing guard at the door let us pass, and then we entered into a large chamber, lit only by thin slits of windows on the south wall.

‘I’ll see if he’s ready to see you,’ the chaplain said. ‘Wait here.’

I gazed about at the chamber. There were no hangings on the wall, nor embellishment of any kind, only a long table and two iron braziers, at that time empty and unlit. But then this was not a palace but a stronghold.

The priest returned in short order to show me through to Malet’s chambers, where he left me. The doors lay open. Inside the vicomte stood poring over a large parchment sheet spread out across a table.

‘Enter,’ he said without turning his gaze towards me.

I did so, closing the doors behind me. Motes of dust floated and danced in the light from the window: a slit of horn scraped thinly so as to let in the sun yet keep out the wind. On the table, beside the parchment, stood a candle, while in the hearth the remains of a fire smouldered away. A great curtain hung across the width of the room, presumably to divide the sleeping area from that intended for studying. Even accounting for what lay on the other side, it was not a large space, although these were probably not the main chambers; more likely they had been rooms intended for guests of Lord Richard, when he was alive.

‘My lord,’ I said. ‘I heard that you wished to speak with me.’

He looked up. ‘Tancred a Dinant,’ he said, with a smile so faint it was almost imperceptible. ‘Indeed I did. Come, look at this.’

He beckoned me across and stood to one side as he gestured towards the parchment. The ends were furled behind holding-stones, and he moved them back. The sheet was filled with sketches in black ink, of arches and buttresses, pillars, vaults and towers, annotated in a careful hand with measurements of each and every part.

‘Plans for the refoundation of St Peter’s cathedral here in the city,’ Malet explained, as he traced his finger along the lines. ‘Our king is most anxious that the kingdom’s churches should reflect the glory of God, and is worried that the present minster is lacking. I had these drawn up last autumn.’

‘It is impressive,’ I said, for it was, even to one like myself who knew little of such things. From the measurements I could see that it would be a work of staggering ambition and size: more than one hundred paces in length, and as much as thirty-five from its base to the top of its tower. It would be like nothing I had ever seen. I could scarcely begin to imagine how many artisans, how many labourers, would be needed to build such a thing – nor the thousands of pounds in silver that it would surely cost.

‘It is my hope that it will rival even the great church at Westmynstre,’ Malet said. ‘Consider the honour that such an edifice would confer upon this city – not to mention upon the man responsible for overseeing the work.’ He sighed deeply, removing the holding-stones and rolling the parchment into a neat scroll, which he tied with a leather thong. ‘I’d hoped that construction might begin before the spring, but as long as the rebels are marching, it will have to be postponed.’

He placed the scroll down on the desk. ‘But that’s not why I have called you here.’

‘No, lord,’ I said, relieved that he was coming to the business at hand. He had called me here because he sought an answer from me, though even now I was not sure what I was going to say.

He gestured towards a stool. I sat down as he pulled across another from beside the hearth.

‘You will recall our meeting some days ago,’ he said, seating himself also. ‘No doubt you’ll also recall the proposition that I held out to you then.’

‘I do,’ I replied.

He studied me from beneath his heavy eyebrows. ‘As I am sure you’re aware, events are moving rapidly, and for that reason it is now a different thing that I wish to ask of you, Tancred. I have a task for you.’

‘What is it, lord?’ I asked.