Paul Finch - Stronghold

"The generosity with which you reward your servants knows no end," Ranulf said.

"Serving me is its own reward. Or so I'm told. But let's assume that you volunteer for this task. It won't be as onerous for you as it would have been for Navarre, you having already made an alliance with these creatures, or at least with their mistress."

"That didn't go quite as I planned," Ranulf admitted.

Corotocus gave him a frank stare. "The alternative is that I push this girl over the edge right now, because she'd be no use to us any more."

Ranulf said nothing. There was nothing he could say. Yet again the earl's wiles had backed him into a corner. Pleased, the earl leaned over the battlements and again bellowed to the group on the Constable's Tower.

"You can cease that pointless gabble!"

The druids turned and regarded him.

"There is nothing for you to discuss!" Corotocus shouted. "The situation is perfectly simple. If you try to enter this Keep, the girl will be thrown to her death. If you refuse my men and I permission to leave safely, she will starve with the rest of us. And if you ever again presume to bypass my authority to negotiate with my underlings, she will die under a flensing knife."

They made no reply.

"Am I clear?"

Still they made no reply. Gwendolyn shot the earl a scornful look. Corotocus noticed this, and for a second Ranulf thought that he was going to drive his dagger into her back. But again the earl kept control of himself. In truth, Corotocus, though he could sense his men watching, witnessing this continued disrespect, knew that he was not in as strong a bargaining position as they might believe. He could not keep the Welsh girl standing on this parapet forever. Brave as she doubtless was, she was half-naked, shivering and weak from lack of sustenance. If she collapsed in full view of her mother, even though safely tied, it could have a disastrous effect.

"My terms are these, countess!" he called down. "They are non-negotiable, but under the circumstances I think they are generous. My retainers and I are leaving Grogen Castle. You will have your creatures clear a path for us. That path will remain clear until we are far from this place. In the meantime, your child will remain here on the brink of oblivion. If any attempt is made to interfere with us, she will be pushed to her death. If any attempt is made to halt our retreat along the river — and be assured, from this vantage point we can see as far as the English border — she will be pushed to her death. However, once we have departed safely, the man I leave behind will stand down and you may retrieve your child unharmed."

"I have to give you credit, my lord," Ranulf said. "When it comes to saving your own arse, you're quite the genius."

"I meant what I said, Ranulf," the earl replied. "About liking men who tell me the truth. If you survive this, there's still a place for you at my court."

"I doubt your court will be around for very much longer. Even if you get away from here, what's to stop this horde sweeping over the border after you?"

"The bachelry of England. What else?"

Ranulf shook his head. "I'm not sure even the bachelry of England will be enough."

"Earl Corotocus!" a voice echoed up from the Constable's Tower. It was Gwyddon again. "By the good grace of Countess Madalyn of Lyr, you and your men may leave Grogen Castle. She gives her word that you will not be molested so long as her daughter is safe."

Corotocus treated his men to a satisfied smile. A few managed to return it.

"Then we have our truce." he called back. "But first I have one more demand."

"Speak."

"Our horses. We will not walk from here like yeomen farmers. We will ride out as we rode in, knights."

There was a pause, and then: "That is acceptable."

The earl nodded, turned to his men and pulled his gauntlets on. "Ready yourselves. Take only your weapons. No supplies — those will only weigh us down. Once we're away from here, we can gallop to the border."

There was a slow bustle as it gradually dawned on the men that their ordeal might be coming to an end. A few stood dazed, not totally believing it.

"Move yourselves!" the earl shouted, his voice a whip-crack. "This window of opportunity may be brief."

Ranulf walked to the battlements. Despite the deal that had just been struck, he was surprised to see a long, meandering alleyway clearing through the mob filling the courtyard. It led from the base of the Keep to the ramp entering the Constable's Tower. Beyond that, he could see a similar space being made along the causeway. With a whinnying and clopping of hooves, horses, made skittish by the stench of their lumbering grooms, were brought from the stable blocks and led to the bottom of the steps at the Keep entrance.

"How can you agree to this?" Gwendolyn hissed at Ranulf, her eyes filled with emerald fire.

"It doesn't please you?" He was surprised. "This way, everyone gets what they want."

"Except justice."

"How much justice are you looking for? Most of those men who came here and violated your people are dead."

"And the one who commanded it? What will happen to him?"

Ranulf shook his head, peering over the parapet again. "I'm more concerned about what will happen to me. How much control does your mother have over these creatures?"

Gwendolyn glanced down as well. Only now did she really seem to focus on the army that had come to liberate her; she found it impossible not to cringe at some of the things she saw.

"There's a good chance," Ranulf said, "that once the earl is gone and the Keep thrown open, their vanguard will ascend to this roof before your mother does. Will they listen to orders from you? I find that doubtful."

Gwendolyn shrugged. "You've played your part in this tragedy, sir knight. What will happen to you will happen."

"Well that's encouraging…"

"What in the name of Heaven do you expect?"

"I want Corotocus punished too," he whispered. "It's because of him that my father died and my friend was murdered. If I survive this thing, I would like to be the one who follows him to England and exacts vengeance."

"And I should give you the means?" She snorted with derision. "You think that because you are slightly more enlightened than most English knights, that means I like you? Even for the small part you've played in the disaster that has destroyed my country, I loathe and detest you."

"You little ingrate!"

She turned pointedly away from him.

"Ranulf!" Corotocus said, returning. He'd now donned a full basinet helm with an open visor, and wore a fresh cloak and tabard over his mail. His longsword hung at his left hip and a two-headed battle-axe at his right. "I trust you aren't thinking of abandoning your post while we're in the process of leaving this place?"

"That's something you'll find out for yourself when you try to leave," Ranulf said.

"Very clever," Corotocus sneered. "But I know you, boy. And I know your conscience. If you let this girl loose or even neglect to guard her so that she gets loose of her own accord, there'll be nothing to stop her calling across the castle that she's safe. If we aren't away from here by then, these monstrosities will fall on us like mad beasts."

"My lord, why don't you just leave while your household thinks you're wonderful? Because when you get back to England, they'll begin to realise the depth of your defeat, and then you'll be regarded somewhat differently."

Corotocus chuckled. "Don't make the mistake of thinking this is over, Ranulf." He turned to Gwendolyn. "Nor you, you Welsh harlot! This affair isn't over."

Gwendolyn didn't deign to look at him.

"Your people have won the battle," he said, "but not the war. We'll be back, and there'll be the devil to pay. Now mind what I say, Ranulf. Neglect your duty here and these hell-hounds could fall on us when we're most vulnerable."