Escape to ponti, p.11
Escape to Ponti, page 11
“Yes, milord. I mean no, milord. She has a little white dog.”
“So she does. Hannibal. A real rascal. Well, well! Come along, then.”
Tien Nu fetched his pack and followed the Knight up through the arena to the cloister. They passed through the church to the street outside. Nearby was an inn, where a lantern creaked in the breeze. They entered through the door in the yard, climbed some stairs, and went down a dimly lit hallway. The Knight stopped and pushed open a door.
“Here we are. You can have this place to yourself.”
He found a candle inside and went to light it from the lamp in the hallway.
The room was small, with some luggage and a huge sword in the corner. On one side were a table and a three-legged stool. On the other, a rough-hewn bed hugged the wall.
“Make yourself at home,” said the Knight. “I’m just next door.”
There was a pounding of feet along the hallway and a small boy burst in.
“Cri-Cri,” said the boy breathlessly. “My mama . . . my mama . . . ”
He stopped short when he saw Tien Nu.
“Hello,” he said.
“Hello,” said Tien Nu.
“The landlady’s son,” said the Knight. “Name of Jaco.”
Jaco stared at Tien Nu for a moment, then turned to the Knight. “My mama says . . . says . . . ” he spun around on one foot, “she says there’s a message from the Ab . . . Ab . . . ”
“The Abbess,” volunteered the Knight.
“Yes, the Abscess. It’s about tonight.” He jumped on the bed and bounced up and down.
The Knight smiled. “The chess game?”
“Yes, yes! She says to come right away!” Jaco hopped off the bed and made for the corner, where he tried to tug the huge sword from its scabbard.
The Knight put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Swords aren’t for you, Jaco. Not yet. Tell your mama I’ll be coming soon.”
Jaco dashed from the room, then popped his head back in and looked at Tien Nu.
“Goodbye,” he said.
Tien Nu grinned. “Goodbye.”
Jaco was gone.
The Knight glanced at Tien Nu. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve been summoned. And when the Abbess calls, I’ve learned it’s wise to obey. If you need the latrine, it’s out in the yard. Just follow your nose.”
Tien Nu closed the door after the Knight, then eased off his pack, suddenly aware of the hole in his stomach. It seemed like years since he’d eaten.
The meat pies were still at the top of his pack. Tien Nu unwrapped them carefully and set them out on the table. They were crumbling at the edges but otherwise fine. He gazed at them. One was meant for Bec.
He sat down and nibbled at a pie.
Delicious, full of spicy meat.
Once he’d started, there was no holding back. He wolfed the pie down, then eyed the second one. It would be soggy by the morning. And there was no telling when Bec would show up.
The second pie disappeared almost as fast as the first. Tien Nu leaned back and let out a belch, feeling pleasantly full. He yawned and stretched, then went outside to use the latrine.
When he got back, he loosened his tunic to get ready for bed and found something snarled in a hook—a tiny leather bag on a frayed cord. He untangled the bag, kneading it with his fingers. It was sewn up tightly, but there was something inside—perhaps an amulet or medallion. He tried to think where it could have come from, but his mind refused to work.
He stored the bag away in his pack, wrapped himself in his cape, and stumbled into bed, falling into a deep sleep.
Hours later, someone pushed in beside him.
“Goodnight, Papa,” Tien Nu muttered.
“So, I’m your father now?”
Tien Nu’s eyes fluttered open.
“Shove over, will you?” said Bec. “You’re hogging the whole bed.”
Chapter 26: Together Again
Light filtered through the window, just enough to see by. Tien Nu raised his head and peered around the cramped room.
He had a muddled memory of Bec showing up in the middle of the night. But it must have been a dream. There was no sign of him now: Anyway, how could Bec have known where he was staying?
Tien Nu rolled to the side of the bed and planted his feer on the cold floor. He ran a hand through his hair and winced when he grazed the wound on his scalp. His cheeks burned as he recalled his fight with the thief—and the way it had ended. He wondered what the Knight had made of him. He knew what his father would have thought.
The sound of splashing came from outside. Tien Nu went to the window and looked down into the yard of the inn. A half-naked person was crouched by the well, spluttering and snorting as he dumped water from a bucket onto his head.
So, it hadn’t been a dream after all.
“Bec,” he called quietly.
The figure gave a start and looked around the yard—then up at the window.
“I’m coming down,” Tien Nu said.
Bec nodded and went on with his washing
Tien Nu got dressed and made his way down the dark stairway. When he reached the yard, Bec was perched on the rim of the well, his hair plastered to his skull, his eyes dancing.
Tien Nu grabbed him and wrestled him to the ground, pommelling him in the chest and stomach, until Bec was laughing so hard he gave up defending himself.
“Idiot!” Tien Nu said. “Where did you disappear to? You really had me worried.”
“Which makes you an idiot, too, for worrying about me,” Bec said. “Nobody in their right mind does that.”
It took some explaining, but eventually the two stories got pieced together. Bec related his side with gusto, explaining what had happened to him inside the cave, and how Hannibal had led him up to the old nun’s room.
“But how did you know where to find me?” Tien Nu asked.
“I didn’t Not until the Knight showed up to play chess with the nun. He brought me back here afterward.”
Bec grinned. “He also told me we can go to Ponti together.”
Tien Nu’s story was more straightforward, or it would have been if Bec hadn’t kept on interrupting.
At the end, Tien Nu shook his head. That master of yours is a nasty piece of work. He was ready to carve me up if didn’t turn you in.”
“Sorry to drag you into all this crap,” Bee said.
Tien Nu shrugged. “Not to worry. It’s what friends do.”
“Drag you into crap?”
“No, no! I mean . . . ”
Bec laughed. “I know what you mean.”
He paused, gazing at Tien Nu. Actually, when you went into town, I didn’t expect you to come back. Not when you left with your pack and all your things.”
“Well, I did come back,” Tien Nu said. “Pretty dumb, eh?”
“As dumb as they come.”
Tien Nu scooped some water from the bucket and splashed it on his face.
“Oh, I forgot to tell you,” he said. “There’s a price on your head. Malaspina’s offering a reward.”
“How much?”
“Thirty florins.”
“Not enough!” Bec said. “I’m worth at least double that.”
The Knight was waiting for them when they returned to the room. Bread and cheese and a cruet of olive oil were spread out on the table.
“I brought these up from the kitchen,” he said. “You need to stay out of sight until we’re on the road.”
“There’s more food in my pack,” Tien Nu said. “Sausages and other things I got at the market yesterday.”
Bec’s eyes lit up. “What about the meat pies?”
“Don’t worry. They didn’t go to waste.”
“You mean . . . ?”
“I was hungry last night.”
“Holy smoke, Scraps! How many pies?”
“Two.”
“That’s disgusting.”
“I thought so, too, But not enough to slow me down.”
As they ate, the Knight explained his plans. “We’ll be leaving from the south gate later this morning. The pilgrims have organized everything themselves. All we need to do is show up.”
He scratched his beard. “But we’ll have to be careful, I hear Malaspina and his men are roaming around.”
He studied Bec for a moment.
“The problem is you’re too easy to spot. We need to change your looks. Some new clothes wouldn’t be a bad start. Those rags you’re wearing—holes in all the wrong places. The girls must blush to look at you.”
“What’s wrong with my clothes?” Bec said. “Anyway, the girls are free to look.”
“And that mop of blond hair,” the Knight said. “It’s a dead giveaway.”
“Why not shave it off?” Tien Nu said.
“Hold on!” Bec said. “Whose side are you on?”
“Not a bad idea.” The Knight glanced at Tien Nu. “In fact, it might work for both of you.”
Bec smiled. “Now there’s a plan.”
The Knight rummaged around in his chest and pulled out a razor.
Bec eyed the long thin blade. “Are you sure you know how to handle that thing?”
“As if my life depended on it,” said the Knight.
“But it’s my life, not yours.”
The Knight secured a pitcher of hot water and some soap from the kitchen, then sharpened the razor on a whetstone.
He nodded to Tien Nu. “Let’s start with you.”
The Knight set himself to the task, humming cheerfully.
“Oh, I almost forgot.” He peered at the scabby lump on Tien Nu’s head. “I’ll have to go easy here.”
“Ecco!” he said eventually. “How’s that?”
Tien Nu rubbed his head. It was perfectly smooth, except for a bristly area around the scab.
“How do I look?” he asked.
“Like an egg,” said Bec. “A cracked one.”
The Knight waved the razor at Bec. “Your turn now.”
The blond hair came off in swathes, exposing a pale dome of untanned skin.
Bec turned his head from side to side. “I can feel the breeze around my ears.”
“Does the breeze go right through—ear to ear?” Tien Nu asked.
Bec grinned. “Funny man.”
The Knight stepped back to admire his work. “Now, if you’d only wipe that smirk off your face, you might pass for a pilgrim.”
Chapter 27: On the Road
“Turn it the other way, Scraps,” Bec said. “A bit higher. That does it.”
Tien Nu gave a grunt. “How did he get this thing up the stairs in the first place?”
They were carrying the Knight’s wooden chest down to the yard of the inn, no easy feat on the narrow twisting staircase. Eventually, all their belongings were piled in a handcart, ready to be transported across town to the south gate.
Catarina and Jaco were there to see them off, along with the Abbess. Hannibal raced madly around, yapping with excitement.
The old nun picked up the dog and gave him a hug. “Goodbye, you little rascal. I’ll miss you.”
Bec stared at her.
“Yes, yes,” said the Abbess. “I’m giving Hannibal to you. I talked to the Knight about it, and we agreed the dog needs a new master, someone as young and frisky as himself. He’ll be good company on the pilgrimage.”
“Thanks, Mother,” Bec said. “It’s the best present I’ve ever had.”
Hannibal wriggled from the old nun’s grasp and dashed over to Bec, who scratched him behind the ears, then hoisted him into the handcart.
“And here’s something to carry him around with,” the Ab bess said.
She handed Bec a long piece of cloth, to be used as a sling.
“Why don’t you fellows go on ahead,” said the Knight. “I’ll catch up in a minute.”
Bec and Tien Nu said their farewells and set off across the yard with the handcart. Bec was in front between the long wooden handles, and Tien Nu was pushing from behind.
“Don’t keep stopping,” Tien Nu said.
“I can’t help it,” Bec said. “It’s this new tunic Catarina gave me. It’s a bit too long and I’m tripping over it.”
When they finally reached the gate to the street, they paused to look back.
The Knight was saying goodbye to the Abbess, who handed him a string of rosary beads, which he hung around his neck, Catarina kissed him on both cheeks and gave him a long hug, quickly turning away to wipe her eyes. The Knight mussed up Jacos hair and said a few words, then came tramping across the yard.
Tien Nu waved to the Abbess, who smiled and waved back.
“Hey, watch out,” said Bee. “The cart nearly went over.”
“Shall I lend a hand?” asked the Knight.
“No, no,” they said together. “We’re doing fine.”
They turned into the street and started up the steep slope.
The Knight took one look at their red faces and laughed. “Let me help, I think the baggage weighs more than the two of you together.”
He took the chest from the cart and heaved it onto his shoulder.
“That’s better,” said Bec. “What have you got in there, anyway!”
“All sorts of things.” said the Knight. “Bits and pieces of a wasted life. I should throw most of it away, but I can’t bring myself do it.”
People hurried past, wrapped in cloaks to ward off the morning chill. A knot of ragged boys emerged from an alley, chattering at the top of their voices as they kicked a makeshift ball back and forth. Bec recognized some of them from the funeral procession and signalled for Tien Nu to keep his head down. But the boys hardly gave them a second glance as they passed, reserving their attention for the huge Knight.
After some time, they reached a crossroads at the top of town, where a long straight road led down to a square just inside the south gate. A market was getting underway—rows of untidy stalls with all sorts of produce, as well as crates of chickens, ducks, geese, rabbits, pigeons, piglets—all squealing and squawking and hissing. Vendors called out their wares and children raced around, shrieking with delight as they dodged through the maze of stalls.
Bec noticed someone staring at them from behind a wagon.
There was a spark of recognition.
“Look!” he said. “It’s Curly—that bandit boy from the cave. Over there.”
Tien Nu tured to look.
The boy gazed steadily at them for a moment, then melted into the crowd.
“Up to no good, I’ll bet,” Tien Nu said. “Picking purses and filching from the stalls.”
Bec looked around for the other bandits and noticed a group of rough men headed for the gate. Sure enough, Bosco and Beppe were among them, their broad-brimmed hats pulled low. Bec nudged Tien Nu, and they watched as the men disappeared through the gate.
The Knight led them to a corner where the pilgrims had gathered, their luggage piled in heaps. He talked to the leader of the group—a slight man named Federico—while Bec and Tien Nu unloaded their bags.
“What about the handcart?” Tien Nu asked. “Shall we run it back up to the inn?”
“No need,” said the Knight “Catarina said to leave it with the cooper. His place is around here somewhere. Ah, there it is.” He pointed to a workshop bearing the sign of a barrel.
At the shop, a man in a leather apron came out to meet Bec and Tien Nu.
“For the Three Bells inn?” he said, glancing at the cart. “I’ll make sure it gets there. I’ve got some barrels to deliver anyway. So, you’re travelling today?”
Bec nodded. “To Ponti—with some pilgrims.”
“Ah! Ponti.” The man’s brow furrowed. “Another group of pilgrims went down that way not long ago. Seems they had a spot of trouble. Bandits, you know. The road is full of them.” He shook his head. “Well, I won’t trouble you with the story. With God’s grace, you’ll have better luck.”
Bec saw the Knight beckoning from the corner. They thanked the cooper and hurried back to the pilgrims.
A wagon came rumbling up, driven by a burly man with deep circles under his eyes.
“Ponti!” he droned in a mournful volce. “All for Ponti!”
The pilgrims surged toward the wagon.
“Bagsage goes in back,” the driver sald. “No room for anything else. Everyone walks.”
Bec and Tien Nu climbed into the wagon and helped to load the bags. The leader, Federico, hopped up beside them and did a head count.
“Eleven . . . twelve . . . thirteen . . . ” He frowned and counted the pilgrims again, then ran a hand through his wispy hair.
“Thirteen. Unlucky number. Someone’s missing.” Federico cast an eye over the group. “I should have known. It’s that fool of a boy, Emilio. Does anyone know where he’s gotten to?”
A couple of pilgrims looked at each other, smirking.
“He went off on his own last night,” said one. “Well . . . not exactly on his own.”
Federico shook his head and muttered to himself. His eye lighted on Hannibal, who was nosing around the wagon.
“No one said anything about a dog,” he grumbled. “Keep him away from the horses.”
“Not to worry,” said Bec. He jumped down and grabbed Hannibal.
After a while, Federico declared they couldn’t wait any longer. He said a word to the driver, who picked up the reins and lightly slapped the horses. With a jolt and a clatter, the heavy wagon began moving across the square. The pilgrims fell in behind, walking in clusters of two and three.
Bec pulled on his hood. “This is it, Scraps.”
As they approached the gate, a young man with red hair and freckles came flying from a laneway, his clothes in disarray, a bag slung over his shoulder. He ran after the wagon, tossed in the bag and trotted alongside, smiling broadly.
