The devils knight, p.36
The Devil’s Knight, page 36
‘And as such, we hunt them for sport,’ Kakia added. ‘As you may have seen.’
‘We did,’ Thurstan said.
‘Countess Aimatochysia is renowned for her hospitality but also her dedication to the rule of law,’ Echthra explained. ‘She has sworn to drive all brigands from her lands.’
Thurstan thought back on the massacre he’d witnessed. ‘I’m impressed it took only two of you to set them running.’
Echthra smiled again. ‘As I said, they are degenerate and diseased. Any opponents on horseback are more than they can manage. Had you known, I dare say you yourselves could have driven them from the field.’
‘Though, I wouldn’t recommend putting it to the test,’ Kakia said jovially. ‘We had an advantage, for neither Echthra nor I have ever yet met our match in combat.’
Echthra drew rein and pointed ahead.
‘Here we are, friends. Chateau Apelpisia.’
They gazed ahead, three things immediately striking Thurstan with awe.
Firstly, the immense gorge that lay across their path. It was at least two hundred yards across, and easy to imagine that it plunged to perilous depth. Secondly, the bridge that spanned it. This was an extension of the road they now followed, though less broad, about ten yards in width. No stonework was visible; it was made entirely from timber – one beam laid after another, each fastened to the next with iron bands, and yet suspended by two complex masses of inches-thick ropes bound and knotted around huge timber frameworks anchored into the bedrock of the cliffsides. It looked sturdy enough, and yet only secondary ropes provided safety barriers on either side. For anyone fearful of heights, it would be a difficult experience. Thirdly, the land on the other side: more dense pine forest, this time ascending tier upon tier until at the apex there was nothing but barren crags and deep ravines, and atop those, perched on a toothlike pinnacle, seemingly growing out of the very granite of the mountain, a castle.
Thurstan had expected some kind of fortification – where else would an influential countess live? – but something more in keeping with the architecture of this region than this. It lacked any complex ornamentation. There were no machicolations along its parapets, no conical-roofed towers. Instead, it had the harsh exterior of a simple baronial stronghold: a sheer outer wall, austere battlements, a faceless inner keep with only arrow-loops to admit light.
‘Pray, don’t be alarmed,’ Echthra shouted, gallivanting ahead. ‘The bridge looks horrendous, but it’s perfectly sound.’
He rode out onto it, setting it swaying slightly, though it still looked heavy and solid. As further proof, he spurred his horse forward, galloping across to the far side. Kakia went too, whooping as he followed. The bridge’s timbers thrummed and thundered and it swung visibly, but there was no obvious sign of weakness. Even so, when the three travellers ventured onto it, they did so slowly and on foot, leading their nervous animals by the reins. Thurstan himself stole a single glance downward, seeing the narrow thread of a river, filled with rocks, perhaps three hundred feet below.
‘Countess Aimatochysia sounds very cordial?’ Pandulf said, as they crossed.
‘Not to the Zoódis,’ Melinda replied.
‘That Zoódis rabble would have killed us,’ Thurstan reminded her.
‘We should be thankful it was Echthra and Kakia who came along,’ Pandulf added with a hint of irony. ‘Because after all, they’ve never yet met their equal.’
CHAPTER 48
After a torturous uphill climb along a narrow, rocky track, enclosed again by snowy pines, they reached the castle’s entrance. Thurstan was surprised to see its outer gate standing open, its portcullis raised. The rest of the stronghold, with its lofty towers and faceless walls, looked indomitable, in which case an open gate was surely an oversight, though he’d already seen how Countess Aimatochysia and her two brothers dealt with the region’s undesirables, so maybe their reputation was defence enough.
In the courtyard, they left their horses in the care of a boy who looked close to being a simpleton and ascended a covered timber staircase to the keep’s main entrance. The castle itself was built from crude stone, though the buildings in the inner court were of simple wood and thatch. And yet things were markedly different inside the keep.
They entered a grand hall, lit by an enormous fire and innumerable smoky candles. It was warmly carpeted, its walls decked with weapons and lavish tapestries, while the high ceiling – so high in fact that it could barely be seen – was hung with heraldic flags. The atmosphere was strongly martial, but there was comfort there too.
The servants in Chateau Apelpisia moved about quietly and unobtrusively. With the exception of one tall, solemn fellow with cadaverous features, whom Echthra referred to as Kopek, they were mostly female, wearing dark, plain clothing, their hair tied in scarfs. Like Kopek, they were serious, sombre types, who spoke together barely at all, though even as the guests were led into the great hall, several women were already in the process of setting a banquet table, arranging multiple high-backed chairs, placing huge candelabra along it at regular intervals, but also dishes, napkins and cutlery, the latter not just comprising knives but forks as well, an Italian affectation, which prior to Outremer, Thurstan had only seen on rare occasions. At Echthra’s bidding, one of the women showed the three guests up several flights of granite staircase, saying there were comfortable apartments and fresh changes of clothes awaiting them.
‘I can’t believe it,’ Pandulf said. ‘It’s almost as though we were expected.’
Thurstan too was compelled to wonder about their change of fortune. It was difficult to believe that, a couple of hours earlier, they’d been marooned in a desolate forest, cold, grimy, exhausted, and encircled by grisly folk intent on butchering them.
The entrances to their two apartments were on the same corridor, and apparently, or so Echthra had said before they’d come up, they’d find a bath-chamber at the far end. Only when Thurstan and Melinda were ensconced in their own quarters, which were richly furnished, more tapestries on the walls, thick hangings over the casements, a blazing hearth and an immense four-posted bed, did they address the matter of their so-called marriage.
‘Don’t fret yourself.’ Thurstan stripped off his gauntlets and furs and unlaced his hauberk at the neck. ‘I won’t be seeking conjugal rights.’
Melinda assessed the room disbelievingly. A bundle of folded but fluffy towels sat on the bed. ‘Such comforts,’ she observed.
‘And yet still you seem sad?’
‘You know why, my lord.’
He stood in front of the fire, warming his hands. ‘You don’t consider that you too were a victim down there on the mountain? Placed in peril with no option but to resist?’
She chewed her bottom lip. ‘When the Zoódis came at us in the open, just before Lord Echthra and Lord Kakia intervened… the desire to loose arrows came on me again. I know I spoke piously beforehand, but I did not want to die.’
‘If only death was all you’d faced. There could have been rape, torture… you’d have done well to feather as many of those animals as you could.’
‘But that’s the point, Thurstan. They weren’t animals. They were men, and now we know they were men in a dreadful state… men depraved by circumstances, who own nothing and have been forced to make the wilderness their home.’
‘Haven’t you just described your own position?’
She pondered as she sat on the bed. ‘I still think it’s wrong to kill.’
‘Of course. But sometimes it can’t be helped.’
‘But only in extreme times… when there’s no other alternative.’
‘We agree on that, at least.’ He arched his back. ‘Now, we should take full advantage of this lapse in our misfortune… apparently there’s a bath-chamber down the passage. I’ve never heard of such a thing indoors, though I’d imagine that among the Outremer elite it isn’t so uncommon.’
Her lack of response implied that this was a matter she hadn’t thought twice about.
‘I’d ask you to show me how this bath-chamber functions,’ he said. ‘I’d imagine there’s some kind of cistern, maybe a sluice. But I expect that learning to kill is sinfulness enough for one day, so I won’t now require you also to be naked in a steamy room with a lusty fellow such as me.’
He glanced at her, but she didn’t detect the humour, instead staring at the flames on the hearth. ‘If it’s like the bath-chamber in the patriarch’s house, it’s a simple mechanism. But I will go first.’ She stood and grabbed herself a towel. ‘If there’s any complication, I can tell you about it on my return.’
He nodded. She moved to the door and opened it but then turned again.
‘Thurstan… this devil that supposedly haunts you? Do you attach any credence to it?’
He watched her warily. She watched him back, with deadly seriousness.
‘Last night,’ he said, ‘very briefly… I wondered if in leaving the Levant, I was finally shaking loose from his power, and so he’d sent demons to stop us. But now, as you see, that wasn’t the case. And if he has any power, if he exists at all, he hasn’t prevented us finding life-saving sanctuary here.’
‘No.’ She seemed relieved by that. ‘Of course not.’
* * *
When they came down to dine that evening, they felt better. A hot bath was always a Godsend, even to Thurstan, who hadn’t experienced them often, while the change of clothes they’d each found waiting on returning from the bath-chamber made them feel less like interlopers and more like honoured guests. Thurstan now wore a maroon tunic with a scalloped cape, green hose and leather, calf-length boots, while Melinda looked resplendent in a graceful fitted gown of gold and yellow thread, a bright blue cloak and a white linen veil and wimple. Pandulf came behind, as any good squire or page should, wearing a russet tunic, grey hose and ankle-fitting shoes.
Echthra and Kakia, who awaited them, had also changed, both now in similar blue-and-gold finery. The banquet was almost set, partly with shimmering glassware, another luxurious reminder they were still in the East, but it was also tricked out with Christmas greenery. The food itself was a sight to set any man salivating: great trenchers heaped with slabs of smoking beef, fresh baked loaves and pies, cooked fowl, bowls of figs and dates. However, the main event of the evening commenced when Countess Aimatochysia herself arrived, her handmaids scuttling fussily around her.
Her beauty was so entrancing that it left Thurstan tongue-tied.
Her raven-black hair was thick and lush, piled on top of her head and held in place with a golden band; when loosened, it would doubtless fall to the small of her back. She had the smoothest features: fine porcelain cheekbones, a small, cherubic mouth, her lips stained the most vivid shade of red, her eyes a penetrating violet-blue. Her hourglass physique was sumptuously clad in a long, full gown, of deepest scarlet, with a beautifully embroidered cape at her shoulders. Like her brothers, she dripped with gold and silver.
She said nothing at first, merely smiled and nodded courteously as the guests were introduced, then, rather primly, with no great extravagance, took her place at the table. The others were seated directly opposite, facing her, while Echthra chose a chair to the left of his sister, Kakia to the right.
‘My dear guests,’ the countess said, her tone silky smooth, ‘I fear my darling brothers’ ineptitude as hosts knows no bounds. I would have come to you sooner, but only late this afternoon did I receive word that we had visitors.’ Her two brothers sat smiling, unabashed. ‘We’ve now been formally introduced, but please, my friends, tell me a little more about yourselves… in your own words.’
Thurstan again relayed the fake names that he’d given to Echthra and Kakia.
‘Lord Bertrand and Lady Marietta,’ the countess replied with fascination. Her violet eyes were captivating. ‘You are most welcome in this house.’
‘Thank you sincerely, Countess,’ Thurstan said. ‘The road has been hard.’
‘Forgive me asking…’ she indicated to a servant that her guests’ goblets needed filling, ‘but, if you’re returning to Normandy, you have strayed far from the normal path.’
‘We sailed from Jaffa to Cyprus, and thence, supposedly, Crete,’ Thurstan explained. ‘After that, we should have proceeded to Sicily. Unfortunately, not far out of Limassol, our ship was set upon by pirates. We three put to sea in a coracle, which in time brought us ashore on your southern coast. But we lost everything in the process.’
‘You were well enough equipped to defend yourselves last night,’ Echthra commented. ‘At least for a time.’
Thurstan sipped his wine, which, while he was no expert, was both sweet and refreshing. ‘I regret that we’ve already had several difficult encounters in Anatolia. The pirates left us with almost nothing, but there were others, inland, who still sought to interfere with us… It didn’t always go well for them.’
The countess arched her finely drawn eyebrows, then clapped her hands and gave a delicate, delightful laugh. ‘These are harsh lands, and there are many rogue elements. But I’m thrilled that you fought your way to safety. Now, in some recompense, I hope, you may rest with us here for as long as you desire, and we will feed and clothe you, and re-equip you for your journey when you’re ready to resume.’
‘You’re incredibly kind,’ Melinda said, dabbing at her eyes with a napkin.
‘Pray, don’t thank me, Lady Marietta. Pilgrims returning from the East are beset by all kinds of ill-fortune. One sometimes wonders what the celestial powers are thinking. But maybe the solution to that riddle is found in the likes of us, who consider it our duty as fellow Christians to do what we can to alleviate the pain and distress of those who are lost.’ But now the noblewoman sat back to regard her female guest with additional interest. ‘My dear child, you’re a bubbling pot of emotion. Please, don’t be upset. You’re safe here.’
Melinda sniffled and wiped away her tears. ‘Apologies, my lady. But I think I can speak for the oth— For my husband as well as myself… When I say that such generosity of spirit… such all-round hospitality is more than any of us could have hoped for.’
Countess Aimatochysia looked sad. ‘You’ve seen more hardship than your husband has admitted to, haven’t you, child?’
‘Marietta came from a titled family,’ Thurstan cut in, concerned that Melinda’s emotional state might expose more about them than it should. ‘But after the fall of Jerusalem, she was made a slave.’
The countess was visibly horrified.
‘It was Lord Bertrand who rescued me,’ Melinda said.
‘And then married you? How romantic. And now, Lord Bertrand, you return to your ancestral home?’
‘We do, my lady, yes.’
‘Have you been to Europe before, Lady Marietta?’
Melinda dabbed again at her tears. ‘Until now, I’ve never left the Levant.’
‘Alas… once you pass the Italian lands, it’s a dreary place. Especially in winter. Though the winters here can be cruel too, as you’re no doubt aware.’
‘If I might be so bold, Countess,’ Thurstan said, ‘I’m fascinated by your presence in this wild place. How does a Greek stronghold like this have the air of courtly France? How is it that you and your brothers speak French so well?’
‘My dear Lord Bertrand…’ She seemed amused. ‘French is our first language.’
‘Forgive me,’ he said, ‘I assumed… Greek.’
‘We speak Greek,’ Echthra replied. ‘As administrators in this region, we must. But our family’s traditions are important to us.’
‘You must realise that we are of French descent,’ the countess said. ‘Our esteemed ancestor was Father Peter of Achères, the famous Priest of Amiens.’
Indeed? Thurstan thought.
‘The one they called “Peter the Hermit”?’ Melinda said, surprised.
‘Most knew him by that name,’ the countess replied. ‘In time he simply became “The Hermit”. A vagabond priest, but beloved by God, he brought a peasant army to the East, and armed with nothing but faith, made his way barefoot to Jerusalem, where he led the first wave of pilgrims over the Holy City’s walls.’
Thurstan didn’t immediately respond, because he wasn’t entirely sure that Peter the Hermit had truly been beloved by God. In reality, the man was a fanatic who led his pauper army to annihilation, but not until it had robbed, pillaged and raped its way across Christendom, massacring entire Jewish communities in the Rhineland. It only reached Jerusalem after joining the real army, led there by Godfrey of Bouillon. All this had happened a century ago, but stories persisted that, even after the capture of the Holy City, it was the Hermit’s continued incendiary preaching that incited his new friends to destroy its population.
Countess Aimatochysia frowned. ‘You seem disturbed, Lord Bertrand?’
‘Just intrigued, Countess.’ He sipped more wine. ‘It’s a riveting tale. But I can’t help wondering how a priest sworn to poverty could have founded a noble house.’
Kakia barked with laughter. ‘Welcome to the Empire of the Greeks. Here, anything can be purchased.’
‘My great grandfather carried huge riches away from Jerusalem,’ the countess explained. ‘Though all had been justly claimed, of course.’
‘Of course,’ Thurstan said.
‘Our family now has military obligations in return. You may not realise it, my friends, but we are close here to the border with Rum. At some point, the Seljuks will come, and when they do, my brothers and I, and all our followers, will fight.’
She imparted this news with a strange air of fatalism, as though the outcome of such an event was already decided and would not be positive. Yet it didn’t darken her mood. She continued to engage politely and wittily with her guests, but most of all was keen to know about events in the outside world.
‘Speaking as a soldier, Lord Bertrand,’ she said, ‘how would you say the war against the infidels is going? Are we Christians fighting well?’
