"I'll have to go," said Jim to Angie, slowly. He turned to Brian.
"Forgive me for seeming less happy to hear this than you, Brian," he said, "but you remember I just learned how to use a sword and shield and a few other weapons this last year. Gorp isn't really a war-horse. My armor doesn't fit me properly. Besides, I don't know the first thing about levying the men I need to fulfill my feudal duty. How many am I supposed to provide, have you any idea?"
"Malencontri can provide no less than yourself and fifty horsemen, fully weaponed and armed," answered Brian. His expression softened to one of sympathy. "What you say is all true, of course, James. I know you fear that your efforts in this endeavor might appear less than you'd like. Just as, no doubt, you fear that m'Lady here will be ill-accustomed to keeping safe this castle in your absence."
"Yes, that too," put in Angie quickly. "Jim may have learned a few things during the winter but I don't know the first thing about defending this castle."
"I hope I may be able to suggest some answers to these problems," said Brian. "First, your problem m'Lady, since—you'll pardon me—it's the lesser one. You've a good friend, as you know, in m'Lady Geronde Isabel de Chaney; who is no novice at maintaining and defending a castle from which the Lord is gone. You've already become a good and capable mistress to all within these walls. In all but the actual matter of defense, you're well qualified. And in that other matter, Geronde will be glad to ride over and spend a week or so; showing you how best to handle any attack, foray, or raid against its walls."
He turned from her to Jim.
"Now, as to you, James," he said. "You're too modest to admit it; but in truth, you're now a fair hand with sword, axe, and dagger. Your shield-work is admittedly ragged. And—I must be truthful—I would not like to see you with lance in hand, in a charge a-horseback against a seasoned knight. Nonetheless, personally you are not ill-equipped to do your duty in this instance, damme if you aren't! You've a fair knowledge of weapons—many men have gone into battle knowing less. And, in addition, you have this magic credit, and are gaining some ability to use it. That, in itself, becomes a weapon which will be of great value to our Liege in this rescue of his royal son."
"But the business of raising men to fight, choosing who's to go, and teaching them what to do, and then leading them in the proper manner…" said Jim. "I don't have the first idea—" ,
"Don't overconcern yourself James," said Sir Brian. "I propose that the two of us join forces and make a unit of ourselves and the men we bring with us. It could be we might even raise the aid of some of those who follow Giles o'the Wold, as well. Outlaws they may be; but in a matter such as this, no one will inquire closely as to their lawfulness."
A wistful look came into his bright blue eyes.
"Would we could also get the use of that master bowman, bowyer, and fletcher, Dafydd ap Hywel, as well. But these Welshmen all have a chip on their shoulder where good Englishmen are concerned. He's not likely to want to help rescue our Prince, even if Danielle o'the Wold, now that she is his wife, would agree to his going. Besides, he has more of a chip on his shoulder even than most Welsh toward things English—at least as far as our men of the longbow are concerned. But what an archer to have in our ranks!"
"He always said, and Danielle said," put in Angie, harking back to the adventures that had concerned all of them with the Dark Powers and the Loathly Tower, "that he would come to your aid or ours, as we would go to theirs, if needed."
Jim found it hard to believe that Angie had given up on keeping him from going to the war in France. He rather doubted it. Angie did not give up things that easily. But, clearly, if he had to go she wanted him to go with as much skilled protection as possible. And what Brian had just said was the truth. Dafydd ap Hywel was an archer who was too good to be believed, even after you had seen him in action.
"Going to a friend's help is one thing," Jim answered Angie himself. "Going off to a war to help out the king of a country your people have been at war with for some centuries, is something else again. Besides, remember Dafydd was never the kind to get involved in danger just for the adventure of it. You remember he came along with the rest of us to the Loathly Tower only because of Danielle."
Angie sighed, and said nothing.
"You are right, James," said Brian. "However, come to think of it, we lose nothing by asking him. Just as we lose nothing by asking the merry men of Giles o'the Wold if any of them care to come with us to France, for glory and for loot."
"How soon do you actually have to leave?" asked Angie of Sir Brian.
"As soon as possible." The knight rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Yet, it'll take three weeks, perhaps more, for some good men to reach me. There are those who’ve said they would follow me in any great endeavor such as this one, but are otherwise in the service of someone else. Those who can get permission to come, will come. They will already have heard of what is happening, and know I have need of them. I would certainly wait about three weeks. Moreover, James—"
He turned to Jim.
"—It will take at least three weeks to instill some small knowledge of weaponry into your levied men, and teach them how to behave on expeditions such as this, into a foreign land. Yet we should be gone as soon as possible. Should be a matter of a few days, only, to reach the nearest port. But then up to possibly several weeks after to find a ship to take us to wherever in France the gathering point's to be. Possibly Bordeaux, though it may be Brittany, which is closer—although the coast along the Brittany shore is perilous."
He turned back to Angie.
"Call it three weeks before we leave our homes, m'Lady," he said, "and you won't be far off. The time's short enough, God knows."
He turned to Jim once more.
"Which is why you should start choosing the men you want to take with you right away, James," he said. "That's one reason I'm here. Not only to bring you the news, but to help you in a few such things. Call in your steward."
Jim turned to the first body he saw lounging close to the platform. It was Theoluf, his chief man-at-arms.
"Get John Steward for me, Theoluf," said Jim.
John Steward appeared with remarkable promptness. It would have been possible to guess that he had been no farther away from the table than Theoluf, except that there was no place in the great hall where he could have been in less than fifty feet, unless he had been hidden by a screen of the bodies of other castle servants.
He was a tall, rectangular-framed, stern-looking man in his forties; but one who had still managed to keep most of his teeth. Only two in front were to be seen missing when he spoke or smiled—although in fact he seldom smiled. His remaining hair was black and long, and combed straight backward. He wore a hat shaped like a loaf of bread and a somewhat food-stained robe that had once been the property of the former Baron de Malencontri. The hat, like the robe, was always on him, so that they seemed like some sort of official uniform.
"Your Lordship desired me?" he said formally.
"Yes, John," said Jim. "How many able-bodied men between the ages of twenty and forty do we have in the castle, and in the outside dwellings beyond the castle walls?"
"How many men…" echoed John slowly. He scratched his skull through the fabric of the hat.
"Yes," said Jim, "how many?"
"How many men between twenty and forty…" said John again slowly.
"Yes John. That's what I asked," said Jim, puzzled. John Steward was usually not this slow to understand or answer a question. Jim waited.
"Well," said John thoughtfully, counting on his fingers, "there's William by the mill, William of the moat, and William—"
"By your leave, James," interrupted Sir Brian, "this man obviously doesn't know his duties. A steward who can't come up immediately with the number of available men you mentioned is worse than no steward at all. I suggest you hang him and put somebody else in his place."
"No, no," said John swiftly and in something more like his normal rate of speech. "Forgive me m
'Lady, noble sir. My mind was elsewhere for a moment. Thirty-eight such men m'Lord, counting the men-at-arms and everybody."
"Strange," snapped Sir Brian, before Jim could say anything, "the last I heard of Malencontri, it had over two hundred able-bodied men. If there are now only thirty-eight, James, even with your men-at-arms, this fief is in parlous state, indeed."
He turned to Jim.
"M'Lord," he said, enunciating the words very clearly, "will you permit that I take over the questioning of this John Steward?"
"Certainly. By all means," said Jim, relieved, "go ahead, Sir Brian."
Brian turned the searchlights of his two piercing blue eyes back on the steward, who now appeared to have shrunk somewhat.
"Now, my man," said Sir Brian, "you'll have heard already of the situation concerning England, and therefore your Lord. Your Lord will need to raise a force of men from the estate, a levy to meet his requirements to his liege. These will have to be drawn from men fit to march and fit to fight. Men who may well fall within the years he mentioned, although there is none too old nor none too young if they are able, but fit. Now, you are required to produce, therefore, a hundred and twenty men within the next two hours."
"Brian—" began Jim, a little uncertainly, "if there's only thirty-eight—"
"I think Master Steward here may be somewhat mistaken about the number of available men on your estate, James. A mistake he now realizes, particularly since his neck will answer for it if he can't raise enough men to fill the necessary levy. Well, Master Steward? Would you care to think again about who might be available? We would want men in good health, sound of wind and body, and in good spirits. Sir James will have no whiners or complainers on this task, by Saint Dunstan! They have a bad effect on the other men. So! You will gather these for us in the courtyard within the next hour, so that your Lord and I may look them over; since we are in haste. You may go."
"But—but—but—" John Steward turned and appealed to Jim, "m'Lord, is this your requirement? I hear the good knight, but what he asks is—well, not possible. Even if we had such a hundred and twenty men, every one of them is needed here and cannot be spared from the castle or the lands. There is the fallow land to be plowed. There are repairs to the castle, which have awaited the spring. There are a thousand and one things that need to be done, for which we are short-handed already—"
"James," said Brian, turning to him, "may I speak to you privily?"
"Why, of course," said Jim. He raised his voice.
"All of you here—including you John—" He leveled a finger at the steward. "All of you, all the way out of the hall for now. But stay close so I can call you back."
Sir Brian said nothing until all the various staff of the castle had vanished, then turned to Jim. But Angie spoke before the knight could.
"Brian, weren't you a little hard on him?" Angie said. "We've had John Steward since we took over the castle. He's a good, honest man. We've always been able to trust him and he's always given us the best he can. If he says he only has thirty-eight men, that's probably all he's got."
"Never you think it, m'Lady," answered Sir Brian grimly. "I've no doubt he's as you say. A good steward. A good man. That'll be the very reason he does not yield immediately in this matter of giving up whole men to a necessary levy of forces. It is his duty to protect and foster both the castle and the lands; therefore he must try to keep close and protect the best of those beneath him for that use."
He turned to Jim.
"But can you not both see?" he said, "the man only bargains with us. A hundred men is more than we need—granted. It is more than the levy requires. But thirty-eight men is a foolish number. It is far too few. Somewhere between that figure and mine of a hundred and twenty, we will come to agreement on the necessary number. It will be a slow process and he will oppose us all the way, both as to numbers and as to worth of men. You will see that the first group of men he parades in the courtyard will be hardly worthy of leading half a mile down the road, let alone to France and into battle. But at last we will get who we need. Now, do I have your permission to go on?"
Jim and Angie looked at each other. They had lived in this strange world nearly a year now, and that was long enough to know that things were not done by the methods they had been used to all their lives. Also, they knew that Brian did know the proper way of doing things.
"Go ahead, Brian," said Jim. "Once again, as when you were training me to the use of arms, I'm your pupil. You do it; and I'll try to learn how it's done by watching you and listening."
"Good!" said Brian. "Very well, then. I think we'll let Master Steward cool his heels a bit, and wonder if perhaps I wasn't serious about the hundred and twenty men and the chance of his being hanged if he didn't provide them. While he's doing so, call you your chief man-at-arms; and we'll talk to him next."
Jim raised his head.
"Theoluf!" he bellowed.
A figure popped immediately out of the entrance to the solar staircase and came forward to the table. All of the castle people, Jim thought, must be packed like sardines back there, just behind the entrances, out of sight. Theoluf came up to the table and stopped.
"M'Lord?" he said.
Theoluf was in perhaps his mid-thirties. But like Sir Brian, the life he had lived made him look older. Still fit, but older. In many ways, thought Jim, looking at him, he was a great deal similar to John Steward. Both were men of authority, and showed it. Both had courage and knew they had it. Theoluf was, in fact, a smaller man than the steward. Shorter, not as broad across the shoulders, and wiry rather than solid. But he wore his leather hauberk with the steel plates over it, and the sword and dagger balancing at either side of his sword belt, as if they belonged on him. Like the steward, his hair was black, but cut shorter, and he wore a steel cap without a nasal, which he now took off and held in his hands, as a mark of respect.
"Theoluf," said Jim. "I want you to pay attention and give straight and honest answers to the good knight here."
"Aye, m'Lord," said Theoluf.
Theoluf had a touch of accent that Jim could not exactly place. It seemed halfway between Scandinavian and Germanic; which was odd on this world where everybody, including wolves and dragons, seemed to him to speak the same language. But it was only a trace. The dark eyes in his V-shaped face went to Sir Brian.
"Sir Brian?"
"Theoluf," said Sir Brian, "you and I know each other."
"That we do, Sir Brian," answered Theoluf with a slight, harsh grin. "We've even looked at each other from opposite sides of these battlements when Sir Hugh de Malencontri was Baron."
"That is so," said Sir Brian firmly, "but though we have been close to swords' points on occasion, I know you for a good and faithful man to your present Lord, who is Sir James. Am I mistaken in this?"
"You are not, Sir Brian," said Theoluf. "Who Theoluf serves, he serves utterly. I fight now for Sir James, and will die for him if need be—against any."
"You are not required to die this day," said Sir Brian, "but to answer some questions straightly and to the point. You have heard, as all in this castle will have by this time, of what has happened in France and that Sir James and I march thither. We intend to combine our forces. You also know that Sir James must raise a levy of men to meet his duty to his Liege. Now, are any of those, not presently men-at-arms here, fit and good material to be trained for that work?"
"Would I could say there were," answered Theoluf, "but these turf-brains and ladle-skulls have no idea of weapons and less of fighting—let alone any notion of what war can be like."
"I believe you," said Sir Brian, "but I think you take too dark a view, Theoluf. As I was saying to Sir James just a moment past, people have gone to war with less. We will have two to three weeks here, and more time on the road. It will be up to you and the men you take with you to see that those we pick are ready when the time comes. Battles have been fought and won by those who never took weapon in hand in their life before. But, you realize that some of y
our better men must stay here, for the defense of Malencontri itself and the Lady Angela?"
Theoluf's face darkened. There was a moment's pause.
"If it must be," he said, then. He swung his attention on Jim. "M'Lord, I myself, however, go with you?"
It was not a question as much as a challenge. Jim for once found himself thinking very clearly along fourteenth-century lines.
"You, of all people, go with me," said Jim.
Theoluf's face lit up.
"Why then," he said, looking back at Sir Brian, "we will do our best, Sir Brian. Happen all of the levy are sound of limb and wind and have some small wit—we'll teach them what they ought to do, at any rate."
The light on his face dimmed, and was replaced with a frown, however.
"We lost what few decent crossbowmen we had to that devil of a tall, Welsh archer you had in the matter of the Loathly Tower—Sir Knight, m'Lord and Lady," he said. "We badly need archers of our own. There will be archers in the forces of others who go to rescue Prince Edward, no doubt; but archers who belong to Malencontri—"
"Now, damn my bad memory!" said Sir Brian, turning to Angela. "I had a message to pass on to you: that Dafydd and his wife, Danielle, were on their way to visit you. I was to pass this on; and in the more important matter of the Prince I completely forgot. I crave your pardon."
"Dafydd and Danielle?" echoed Jim. "What would Dafydd have to see me about?"
"As I understood, it was rather Danielle who wished to see Her Ladyship," answered Sir Brian. "However, word came last week that they are on their way. Should be arriving any day now."
"Hmm," said Angie thoughtfully.
"Well," said Jim, "in any case I'll be glad to see them—"
He was interrupted by a noise at the front door of the great hall. A man he recognized as one of Sir Brian's men-at-arms literally stumbled in, with a couple of Jim's own men-at-arms trailing along beside him. The man paid no attention to them, to Jim, or to Angie, but made directly to Brian.