Paul Doherty - The Magician

Corbett stood back. He felt exhausted and wearied and had no desire to engage in the pursuit. The yard became full of horses milling about. Sir Edmund and his officers mounted, shouting at the men-at-arms to gather round them. The horn sounded again and Sir Edmund led the cavalcade across the outer bailey, archers running behind them. The rest of the castle folk now emerged from their hiding places armed with whatever weapon they could find. They moved amongst the dead, cutting the throats of the enemy, searching for loved ones. Lady Catherine and her daughter came out of the Hall of Angels, accompanied by Ranulf and a group of men-at-arms. Lady Catherine imposed order. The killing of the wounded stopped. Scullions and servants were ordered to light fires, boil water and bring sheets from the stores. Simon the leech was already busy, and behind him, Father Andrew, a stole round his neck, moved amongst the dead, now and again crouching to talk to a fallen man.

Corbett leaned against the wall struggling to control the nausea in his stomach. He tried to breathe in, clearing his throat, fearful lest he be sick. Ranulf and Bolingbroke hurried across. Both clerks had donned stiffened leather breastplates. Ranulf had his war belt slung over his shoulder and his sword and dagger were drenched in blood. Corbett turned away and retched. The dreadful silence which always followed a battle was shattered as the wounded cried in agony, or some woman finding her man began to wail. If Lady Catherine hadn’t been present, accompanied by men-at-arms, a second massacre would have taken place. She insisted that the castle wounded be moved to the keep, the dead to the chapel, and those enemy prisoners able to walk quickly manacled and taken down to the castle dungeons. Corbett gestured with his hand for Bolingbroke to go and help her.

‘Ranulf, I am finished here.’

With his henchmen helping him, Corbett returned to his chamber, trying not to look at the corpses sprawled in their dark puddles of blood. He reached the tower, opened the door and paused at the sound on the stairs above. Ranulf pushed him aside and went ahead; Corbett climbed the steps slowly. The door to his chamber hung open. He paused.

‘I’m sure I locked it,’ he whispered. ‘I’m sure I did.’

He went inside the chamber. By the faint stains on the floor he could tell someone had been here; they had also removed a leather jerkin lying on the great chest. He crouched down and examined the locks.

‘Where was de Craon during the attack?’

Ranulf resheathed his sword, wiping the sweat from his face.

‘Hiding in the Hall of Angels, I believe.’

Corbett poured himself and Ranulf a goblet of wine. He drank greedily then lay on the bed. He felt as if he had hardly closed his eyes when he was shaken awake by Sir Edmund, his hair matted, face lined with sweat and dirt. The Constable looked furious.

‘Sir Hugh, I need you now!’

Corbett struggled awake and sat on the edge of the bed. Sir Edmund unloosened his sword belt, slumped in a chair and rubbed his face with his hands.

‘There were three hundred in all,’ he began. ‘We must have killed two thirds of them. We have forty prisoners.’

‘What will you do with them?’ Corbett asked.

‘They’re pirates,’ the Constable replied. ‘They carry no letters of patent, warrants or commissions. You know the law, Sir Hugh. Such men taken in arms are judged guilty and forfeit all right to life and limb.’

‘You mean to try them?’

‘Within the hour, Sir Hugh. You are a King’s justice, I need your help. There’s no other way. Ranulf here will act as your clerk, three justices under the law.’

‘Wait, wait.’ Corbett held his hands up. ‘Have you questioned them? Why did they attack Corfe?’

‘Their leaders have either fled or been killed,’ the Constable replied. ‘The captain of the fleet managed to escape. Those we’ve captured know nothing except that they were to attack the castle, ransack it, kill as many people as possible and withdraw to their ships beached along the estuary.’

Corbett accepted the goblet of wine Ranulf thrust into his hands.

‘Sir Edmund, you seem to be in a temper. The attack was beaten off, you have achieved a great victory.’

‘Have I? Have I?’ The Constable took off a gauntlet and sucked at a cut on his wrist. ‘I nearly lost my castle, my life, not to mention the lives of my wife and daughter. I risked your life, Sir Hugh. If you had been killed the King would have had my head. God knows what the Flemings would have done with the French envoys.’

‘But they hired them,’ Corbett mused.

‘Did they?’ Sir Edmund retorted. ‘Monsieur de Craon sheltered in his chamber and came out all afluster.’ The Constable forced a smile. ‘He claims he is not safe here and wishes to leave for Dover. In fact he has ordered his retainers to pack and leave as swiftly as possible. He’s demanding a heavy escort for the journey.’

‘I’m sure he is,’ Corbett remarked. ‘I can just imagine your French guest throwing his hands in the air, eyes rolling, shouting that this place should be safer, that his person is sacred, and that he can’t leave quick enough.’

Corbett toasted the Constable with his cup. ‘Come, Sir Edmund, see the funny side. De Craon wishes to put as much distance between himself and Corfe as possible because he’s failed, the attack was beaten off.’

‘And yet, Sir Hugh,’ the smile faded from Sir Edmund’s face, ‘we lost thirty-five men. I made a mistake. Apparently the pedlars and chapmen we admitted attacked the guard at the main gateway, cut their throats and lowered the drawbridge. I should have been more careful. The pirates were hiding in the dark; they brought in a cart, forced the gate, and the rest you know.’

‘They were nearby all the time?’ Corbett asked.

‘Yes, yes. Now I’ll come to the cruel part. The pirates landed in the estuary and moved inland. From what I gather, they swept into the forest, killing the charcoal burners and woodmen. They slaughtered and raped. Those who knew the paths were taken prisoner and forced to show them the way. They reached St Peter’s in the Wood and used the church for shelter, as well as the priest’s house. They threatened Father Matthew, telling him that unless he cooperated, pretended to be ill and drove away all visitors, they would cut his throat and burn their hostages alive. They then moved on to the Tavern in the Forest. Apparently those Castilian wool merchants were part of the plot; they were the ones who lit the fire. They forced the taverner to cooperate. They planned to use his cart and that of Mistress Feyner. They thought they would catch us unawares, seize the drawbridges and ransack the castle to their hearts’ content.’

‘That’s why that bastard held his banquet,’ Ranulf interrupted. ‘He hoped we would all be fuddled with wine, deeply asleep. Sir Hugh, isn’t there anything we can do?’

Corbett run a thumbnail around his lips. ‘Continue, Sir Edmund.’

‘They also cleared the forest.’ The Constable joined his hands together. ‘Poor Horehound and his coven were massacred. I sent riders into the trees. The pirates killed indiscriminately: Horehound and his group, foresters, charcoal burners. Good God, Sir Hugh, it’ll be summer before we find all their corpses.’

‘And Master Reginald?’

‘They forced him to drive the cart this morning. He was killed just by the gateway, whether by design or accident I cannot say.’

‘And Father Matthew?’

‘Ah, we expected to find him dead. However, our priest has more nimble wits than they thought. He and the hostages managed to escape to the church and barred themselves in, just as the outlaws began to mass for their attack on the castle. Obviously the pirates hoped to deal with us first. The priest is shaken and nervous but he and the poor forest folk were found safe enough.’