Even as I stood there, feet rooted to the ground as I tried to work out what to do, Beatrice was pushing past me. She darted out into the street, almost tripping over her skirts, shouting her maidservant’s name. Almost as one, the men heard her and turned, some of them already casting aside their flagons and reaching for their weapons.
‘Beatrice!’ I shouted. I broke into a run after her, gripping my knife-hilt firmly, my feet pounding the soft earth. After a few paces I had caught her, grabbing her waist to hold her back.
‘Papia,’ she called, trying to wriggle free from my hold, but I was too strong for her and she soon gave up.
The girl was on the ground still, though now that the men’s attention was elsewhere she was backing away in crab fashion, pulling her skirts back down over her legs, trying to regain her modesty.
‘Who’s this, then?’ their lord shouted, and I took him for such not just because he had spoken first but also because of the gold rings which adorned his fingers. ‘Another man and his whore?’
They looked drunk, and not entirely steady on their feet, but that did not mean they were any less dangerous. Ale dulled men’s sword-skills but it also made them more reckless and unpredictable, and I knew from experience that a man with little regard for his own life could be a fearsome foe.
‘Stay away from the girl,’ I called back. ‘Otherwise you’ll have my blade to answer to.’
How I planned to take on five men on my own I didn’t know, but I could hardly stand by and do nothing, and besides my blood was rising, my sword-hand itching.
‘You hear that?’ the lord said. ‘He thinks he can fight us!’
He laughed aloud, and some of the others began to snigger. They were all sizes and shapes, I saw now as they came out into the middle of the street: short and tall, some broad-shouldered and squat, others rangy and long-limbed. All had swords, which meant they were almost certainly knights, yet none was wearing anything more than a loose tunic and trews. Five well-aimed blows was all it would take to fell them. I hoped it would not come to that.
‘Tancred,’ Beatrice said. She placed a hand on my shoulder but I shook it off as I strode forward, passing my knife into my left hand and pulling my sword free of its scabbard with the other. Rarely did I fight with two blades, but I had no shield or mail or even helmet with which to protect myself, and so I had no choice.
I fixed my gaze on the lord. His face was pitted with pockmarks and lined with the scars of battle, his nose was broken, and his thick eyebrows made his eyes appear mere shadows.
‘Leave now,’ I said.
I was hoping that they would see sense and realise there was no point in risking their lives. They exchanged glances, but they must have had confidence in their numbers, for they did not move.
Their lord snorted. ‘Or what?’
‘Or else I will kill every one of you and leave your corpses for the dogs to feed on.’
‘You and what army?’ he asked, prompting a fresh bout of laughter from his men. ‘I suggest that you walk away, friend, unless you enjoy the taste of steel.’
Those who had not already drawn their weapons slid them with barely a whisper of steel from sheaths and scabbards. Blades flashed in the starlight. Barely ten paces separated me from the first of them. If they all came at me together they would soon have me surrounded, and Beatrice as well, with no hope of escape. But I could not back down now. I would not leave Papia to her fate.
‘Look at his woman,’ one of them said, gesturing with his free hand towards Beatrice. ‘She’s a fine one. I’d like to plough that furrow.’
‘You’ll get your chance, Gisulf,’ said another, a thickset man with large ears that stuck out from his head. ‘I reckon we’d all like a go with her.’
I glanced at Beatrice, who was shrinking back under their stares, slowly retreating towards the church door and the faint orange glow coming from within, though I knew she would find no sanctuary there. It had been a mistake for us to meet here. This whole night had been a mistake from the moment that I had chosen to follow the girl to her mistress, and I had only made it worse by challenging these men. Now they would kill me, and probably Beatrice too once they had finished with her.
‘She’s certainly a pretty one,’ the broken-nosed one called, joining in with the rest of his men. They were enjoying this, I saw. ‘Not like the rest of the whores in this godforsaken town. Not like this one either.’ He stepped to Papia’s side, grabbing her arm just as she was getting to her feet and jerking her off-balance so that she lost her footing and fell on her face in the mud. ‘Where did you find her?’
‘She’s not a whore,’ I said, tightening my grip upon my sword-hilt. Anger swelled inside me; my blood was boiling in my veins, and it was all I could do to hold myself back as I waited for the opening, waited for them to let down their guard just for a moment.