“But it is not fair. What you ask is not fair.”
“Time is passing, my lady. The more we discuss this, the closer Gaetan and his men come to death.”
He was right. God help her, he was right. It was the first time in her life that Ghislaine had ever had to make such a choice. She had to think about Gaetan and not herself. She wanted him to survive and, in that want, she was willing to do anything. Even sacrifice her future happiness. No thoughts of her future love or future children. There would be none now. Gaetan would be married to Lygia and give her his sons. Yet, Ghislaine would remain empty. Hollow.
But Gaetan would be alive.
The decision was made.
“If that is your price, then I have little choice but to agree,” she said, hating herself even as she said it. “But know that I hate you with every bone in my body for demanding such a thing. You are a wicked, wicked man.”
Antillius felt as if he’d just won some great victory but in that victory was great sadness. Contrary to what the lady said, he wasn’t wicked by nature, but he was determined to save his people any way he could. Perhaps in time, the lady would understand that. Perhaps not. In any case, he knew he’d made another enemy of the great Saxon family but there was nothing he could do about it. He had what he wanted.
And so did she.
“Come with me and we shall find you a suitable horse.”
Ghislaine went with him, wiping tears all the way.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
?
The day shall end and the end shall be known
Kidderminster was a dusty dirty town that was quite crowded, Bartholomew and Kye discovered. It was a market town, which meant farmers from all over the area brought their wares to town to find buyers for them and even at this hour, past midday, the streets were clogged with farmers, carts, animals, buyers, and everyone else in between.
In fact, Bartholomew and Kye were very surprised to see such bustle but, given the fact that they were enemy knights in Saxon territory, they didn’t want to call attention to themselves as they milled through the town. The River Severn ran near Kidderminster and there was a big wooden bridge that crossed the road into the town. Down below the bridge on the riverbanks were thick trees and foliage, so the knights left their horses hidden in the undergrowth. Covering themselves with their cloaks to hide not only their mail and tunics, but also conceal their Norman haircuts and shaved faces, they headed into town.
The side of town they entered was the marketing side and it was full of people as the knights mingled with the crowds inconspicuously, keeping their eyes opened for any bulk movement of men coming through. The town itself seemed to be dirty, run-down, with collapsing buildings and people that were dressed in rags. As they moved, they saw several destitute citizens begging on the edge of the street, but the knights passed them by. They were not without sympathy for the poor but giving coinage to people who had none would attract attention they didn’t want. They moved on.
Heading deeper into the town, they were struck by the smell of baking bread mingled with the smell of human waste. The road was lined with houses, with people conducting their business from their homes, and off to the north they could see the church steeple framed against the deep blue sky. They walked past a woman carrying chickens in two big cages, and passed yet another woman and her family who were herding pigs through the town.
Passing into what appeared to be the center of the town, they came upon the town well where people were drawing their water from a great pool. There was also a man selling big hollowed-out stale bread bowls filled with boiled peas and ham, and the smells lured them in. They purchased two big bread bowls and wolfed down the food, thinking Saxon food to be quite tasty. Wellesbourne managed to get it all over the front of his cloak, which made him look rather slovenly. St. Hèver rolled his eyes at him and accused him of eating like one of the many pigs they’d passed by.
Bellies full, the knights continued past the church and through the city that was really little more than clusters of wooden houses with heavy sod roofs. They seemed to be walking against traffic for the most part and as they continued walking, they could see another entrance to Kidderminster in the eastern portion of the town’s wall. St. Hèver pulled Wellesbourne aside.
“Look,” he hissed from behind one of those short wooden houses. “An entry into town from the east. I have been looking around but have not seen another entry, so when Alary comes through, that must be where he will come from.”
Wellesbourne was looking around as well. “As I recall from being here once as a child, there is also an entry to the north on the other side of the church, but I do not think Alary would come from that direction”
“This is where he shall enter.”
“Exactly.”
St. Hèver scouted their location, seeing the houses spread around, the stockyards, even a cemetery across from the church. He tugged on Wellesbourne.
“Come on,” he said. “I’ll hide over by the eastern entrance. You find a spot near the church where you can catch a glimpse of the northern entrance just in case Alary comes in that direction. I’ll get as close to the eastern entrance as I can so I can see what is coming up the road. If I see something, I’ll signal you.”
“How?”
“Listen for my whistle.”
St. Hèver could whistle between his teeth loudly enough to puncture eardrums. Wellesbourne nodded and they split off, going to find a place to wait for a sighting of Alary’s army. But it would be an uncertain wait. The army’s appearance could be today, tomorrow, or even another day. Still, they were going to dig in. They were the advance team and the entire operation of rescuing Kristoph would depend on just how alert they were. Therefore, they selected their vantage points carefully and settled down.
Now, all they could do was wait.