CHAPTER FORTY SIX

Rolf de Claimont gazed with unflinching attention on the sight below him. Louis the Dauphin was, if nothing else, persistent. He must have realised that his chances of conquering England were now less than nil. Support was evaporating almost every day and even he had had to admit that the besieging of Dover was a total waste of time. There was, however, a look of defiance as he led his sombre-looking force towards London to establish something of a base. He would have been less than satisfied if he could have seen Rolf and his outlaw band occupying the thick leafed trees to right and left of him.

“Do we march much further before we rest, messire?”

The Dauphin swung round his face almost apoplectic with rage. Who dared speak to the French King’s heir so? What indignity, lese majesty was this?

“What varlet questioned me so?” snapped Louis.

The immediate cluster of soldiers behind him looked blankly ahead, somewhat perplexed.

“This journey is plaguey loathsome, fair wears one out.”

The Dauphin slapped his thigh with considerable emphasis.

“Who dares insult me so?” he almost bawled.

“Try me for size your magnificence” laughed someone.

Louis turned his head to the front to see a green-clothed figure standing in front of him, bowing low with mock reverence The newcomer, God knows from whence he had come - possibly the thick green foliage of this hellish forest thought the Prince - anyway the newcomer was a fine athletic individual possibly approaching his middle years but with a light-hearted almost relaxed air about him.

“Who in .....”

“You are addressing Rolf de Claimont, outlaw, brigand yet kindly rogue.”

“Indeed” snarled Louis “I will pay you for your impudence very shortly. At least it is good to know the name of the villain that I am going to have hanged from the nearest tree.”

“I am obliged to you my Lord Prince for your exquisite kindness,” beamed Rolf bowing even more graciously.

The Dauphin raised his gauntleted hand to urge a couple of his retainers to ride forward and apprehend de Claimont. They had barely urged their horses into action when two well directed arrows came hurtling through the air embedding themselves in the shoulders of the unfortunate soldiers. Louis snarled in high rage, his anger turning to shock as a third arrow cut through his horse’s bridle causing him to sway backwards in his saddle.

“Think you that I am a hay-seed dunderhead, my Liege?” enquired Rolf. “I would not parade here before you and surrender to your unkind ways. You should have known that I have brave supporters here.”

The ex-brigand snapped his fingers, as countless stalwart figures descended from the trees on all sides. The French Prince was surrounded, all his hopes dashed for the moment, swallowed up in fierce English drive and determination. Was there no end to the mass of humanity which appeared from nowhere? He could do little but glare ahead attempting to retain at least a little of his injured dignity. One older habited fellow, red-faced and heavily flushed was laughing heartily. How dare he, did he not realise that his future monarch was here before him? Or perhaps Louis himself was being too optimistic. One disaster seemed to be following another.

“How are the mighty fallen!” It was the older man speaking now.

“Speak not too soon, outlaw trash” snarled the Dauphin.

“Put not your trust in princes” responded the Friar who was none other than Will Scarlett.

“I would entertain the Prince and his entourage” interjected Rolf. “Let not it be said that the English are lacking in manners. Follow us but a short distance and we will provide you with a feast that you will not have set eyes upon for some time. You have starved yourself concentrating on useless sieges against stern defenders. Better now that you eat, drink and make merry.”

“I would rather die” snorted Louis.

“Oh no, my good Lord” smiled de Claimont. “That is not on the agenda for today. We hold the superiority here and make the decisions - you will eat and enjoy yourself - that is my command.”

The captured army trudged slowly towards the area indicated by Rolf. There was little to do in the circumstances but obey. The fighting and skirmishing of past months had begun to seem senseless with little headway being made. Louis was probably the only one who had much optimism in the tactics. Somehow now there was a peace and tranquillity about the forest that boded better times. There was merriment in the air, admittedly emanating fro Rolf’s band but which was almost contagious. There was a relaxed feeling spreading amongst Louis’ army, not yet spreading over the leader but still he was after all only one human being. Eventually they arrived in an open space, their eyes gazing on numerous set tables overflowing with succulent meat and other food and flagons of appetising liquids.

“Take your seats my new-found friends” announced Rolf. “There is venison enough for everyone’s taste and much else beside.”

“Damn you man I am not likely to be enticed by ....”

“By what, my Lord? Could you be enticed by me?”

Louis stared hard, somewhat nonplussed to see the exquisite figure of Eleanor of Brittany before him. What indeed was the cousin of young Henry, self-styled King of the English doing here?

“Madam, you take me by surprise, what part do you play in these proceedings?”

“I am here to grace these events with the official stamp of approval, on behalf of my good cousin, the Sovereign Lord of these Isles” beamed Eleanor slightly tongue in cheek.

The Dauphin nodded without much enthusiasm resignedly shrugging his shoulders in near apathy.

“Can I also introduce you to my two companions” resumed Eleanor “My ladies-in-waiting Melissa and Jadabal.”

“Indeed my Lord Prince” interjected Melissa. “Allow me to escort you to the seat secured for the Chief Guest of Honour, your good self.”

Louis scowled deeply as he noted a scruffy-looking, wispy-haired individual already occupying the position indicated to him. This elderly, rough-looking peasant seemed very much the worst for wear and was imbibing the contents of a drinking horn, the liquid splashing down his front with gay abandon.

“Oh ignore Brienne” grinned Melissa. “He’s just a friend, he’s not waiting for lunch, you will be served before him. I’ll ask him to go away and make himself useful, he should be here to cater for your requirements. In the meantime if you wish to spruce yourself up and have a good wash, my Lord Prince, I can get you a few cloths and whatever. We are well catered for here in the forest.”

“I would endorse that” complemented Jadabal. “The hospitality here is so good that you would never want to eat anywhere else ever again.”

“This fellow de Claimont seems quite a remarkable person” mused the Dauphin. “Brigand and cut-throat is obviously only one side of his personality.”

The soldiers of the French Prince seemed to cheer up somewhat as they were offered food and drink and quickly forgot their captive status. There was a strong element of Summer festivity, as if this was a holiday, a time for true merrymaking. Long may it continue was the sentiment of virtually everyone. Everyone, of course, except sour-faced Louis, he was only too well aware of his real predicament, a prisoner in the hands of a deadly effective enemy. What would his next move be?

“My good sir, a word with you.”

Rolf was roused from his thoughts by a young man in monkish habit touching his arm.

“Ah yes Brother Endfeld, a scholar destined to go a long way. How is Abbot Roger, your superior? “In the new way of things you are both highly regarded. This Century is certainly creating new people, and new opportunities.”

“Indeed messire Rolf” bowed the Brother. “You may be interested to know of some quite startling news.”

“Of course, of course” nodded de Claimont “I would like to hear of anything that is vital to our interests.”

“Vital indeed” responded young Endfeld. “It is the Dauphin I feel sorry for, all his hopes just a tattered memory.”

“Hopefully so, but why do you speak with such obvious certainty?”

“Eustace the Pirate that damned brigand has failed his exalted Lord this time.”

“Ah Eustace” mused Rolf “I have crossed swords with him before now, but why such venom, brother, surely Eustace was one of your calling.”

“In name only, that man has many sins etched deeply on his soul.”

“It would appear from your hinted comments that his days of glory are now somewhat faded. Out with it man, about this vital news, don’t keep us waiting, I pray you.”

“You may or may not be aware of the fact that Hubert de Burgh has been contesting the Seas with our enemies. This Eustace was a strategic part of the Dauphin’s logistical plans. He was intending to form a bridgehead with his fleet and send further soldiers and other resources into England.”

“Yes Eustace the Monk, a valiant rogue, fiercer than ....”

“Fiercer than no-one now. He was found skulking in the bottom of one of his ships, that rogue as you so aptly describe him is no more.”

“Then I take it that de Burgh was successful in his campaign?”

“Totally and utterly” smiled Endfeld. “Without supplies I cannot see what Louis can do now. Are you proposing to inform the good Prince of his loss?”

“Indeed not, far be it for me to be his adviser and confidant. He can take advantage of the sustenance we offer here at the table, but his military plans I am not here to guide. Let him limp back to London, unknowing and unwise, unprovisioned and unprotected. He will meet his fate soon enough?”

Elsewhere the merriment in the camp continued. Eleanor took the opportunity of chatting with her ladies-in-waiting. Their gentle sophisticated talk was interrupted when the Pearl patted Jadabal on the shoulder and pointed to a pompous-looking knight skulking by himself near a stout oak tree.

“My God” laughed Eleanor “That is William de Freize he is still loyal to Louis.”

“Indeed madam” responded Jadabal. “But why does he interest you?”

“Because, dear girl when I was disguised as a winsome young man he took rather a fancy to me. If he had seen me as a woman doubtless he would have been less interested.”

“I wonder if he recognises you now, your Highness?” interposed Melissa “Do you intend to renew acquaintances?”

“I will speak to him but I wish you two young ladies to accompany me I have
some merry work for you to undertake. Leave those cloths there Melissa, on this occasion you will have little use for them.”

The three beautiful women walked sedately towards the obviously disillusioned knight. In fact de Frieze was so preoccupied in his own thoughts that he did not notice the distinguished young ladies until they were almost in front of him. He glanced-up slightly alarmed but then gazed away as if in a trance.

“Messire I wonder if you remember me?” enquired the Pearl.

“Madam I have not met with the ladies of the English Court and confess that I am unacquainted.”

“And yet you desired my company so ardently when we last had discourse.”

De Frieze gave Eleanor a slightly haughty look. Indeed why would he have considered her a mere woman. Now if she had been a boy that was something different. Was this noblewoman- that’s what she appeared to be - was she using him for her sport?

“Madam I feel that I would have recognised you if we had been introduced earlier. I assure you there must be some mistake.”

“Ah well, have it your own way my lad” smirked Eleanor “I will leave you with these two friends of mine I promise you you will not be disappointed.”

The Princess turned on her heel and started to return to the main festivities. Behind her she heard wails of consternation, shrieks almost. Glancing over her shoulder she beheld de Freize being pinned to the ground with Melissa sat on top of him grasping his wrists firmly. Jadabal was sat determinedly on the young man’s legs laughing uproariously.

“You must not struggle so” commanded Melissa. “We have promised to give you the most enjoyable time of your life.”

“But madam this is not my idea of enjoyment” gulped de Freize seeking to wrench himself free from his unique form of imprisonment.

“Just lie back and relax my young lad” grinned Melissa tickling William under the chin.

“Leave some of him for me, you saucy wench” laughed Jadabal.

“My dear kind young ladies please remember where we are. We must not lose
our dignity.”

“You may lose more than your dignity sir” roared Jadabal. “This is the greatest battle you will have fought in your entire career. Let victory go to the swift and sure!”

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