The Winter Hare by Joan Elizabeth Goodman

Author:Joan Elizabeth Goodman [Goodman, Joan Elizabeth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins

XIV. Battle

Midnight on the tenth day they came to the hamlet of Metheringham, or what was left of it, two hours' march from Lincoln Castle. There they met up with the levies of Robert of Gloucester and the earl of Bedford. Altogether they were a force of some fifteen hundred men. Will looked for a familiar banner or shield, but none of the knights of Surrey were marching to Lincoln. They made camp with only a few fires and had cold rations for supper, as the earl hoped to keep their numbers secret. Many campfires would have betrayed them to King Stephen's scouts.

The rain had finally ceased. The cold, clear night sparkled with stars and the glimmer of a crescent moon. Will hurried through his duties and sought out John. He caught the lilt of the young squires' laughter not far from where the horses were picketed. Will slipped in behind his brother, outside the ring of young men.

The earl had sent round extra rations of mead to warm the men in place of the missing fires. The flagon was passed to John just as Will was sitting down. John took a draught and passed it to Will.

"Here, brother," said John. "Warm yourself."

"Me?" said Will. Usually John ignored him when he sat with the squires.

"Have I another brother?"

Will took the flagon and drank deeply. A river of fire raced down his throat, into his belly, far stronger than any spirits served at Oxford Castle. Will sputtered and coughed.

"Drinks like a girl," said Reynard.

"Or a rabbit," said d'Artois. And they all laughed.

Will took another long draught, this time without coughing. And this made them laugh more.

Earl Aubrey, flanked by his marshal and Sir Godfrey of Bedford, approached them.

"I'm glad there is reason for mirth among my young fighters," he said, and instantly the laughter died.

"Tomorrow may end your apprenticeship. Serve well your knights and obey them lest your youth lead you to a foolish death."

The earl's cold gaze rested briefly on John as he said, "foolish death." John didn't flinch, but Will couldn't help but shudder.

"We do battle for Empress Matilda and Lord Henry, the rightful heir of England. If we succeed there will be great rewards. Fight with your hearts and souls and win your spurs tomorrow at Lincoln!"

"Hurrah!" they shouted. "For Matilda! For Henry! For England!"

The earl opened a new flagon, drank once, then passed it round again before leaving. And soon after d'Artois bade them sleep.

Will returned to the baggage train where he made ready his own pallet next to Turtle.

But he could not sleep.

John would be fighting with d'Artois under the standard of Bedford, on the far right flank. Will thought it odd that they wouldn't be with Earl Aubrey's men. But neither d'Artois nor John commented on it, so Will didn't either. His orders were to stay near the baggage train. How could he watch out for John or have any chance at glory back with the baggage? Once the fighting started he'd have to find his way to the front line.

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