The Tyrant and the Squire by Terry Jones

Author:Terry Jones [Jones, Terry]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781783524631
Publisher: Random House
Published: 2017-10-26T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 22

Saint-Flour 1361

As Tom, Ann and Emily made their laborious way towards Sir Robert Knolles’ army, Tom found himself struggling with a confusion of feelings.

On the one hand he was feeling optimistic about the future. Emily had promised to have a word with her brother, Guillaume de Valois, as soon as they’d rescued him from his prison in England.

‘He’ll make you his squire – no doubt about it!’ said Emily. ‘If we rescue him, he’ll probably knight you into the bargain – just like that!’

And yet there was something else that acted as an undertow to this promise of a future tidal wave of happiness. But whatever that undertow was, Tom didn’t want to examine it too closely just now. For the moment it was enough that Emily was happy and being unusually gracious in her dealings with him.

What’s more the pair of them had found a joint project, which seemed to bring them closer with every mile they travelled . . . and it was all the doing of the good folk of Marvejols . . .

The townsfolk had been so grateful for their release from the Beast of Gévaudan that they had given Tom, Emily and Ann a present each. Emily was given a new dress, which she said made her look like a peasant and refused to wear. Ann – or rather Alan – was given the very crossbow with which she had shot down the Beast. And Tom was given a citole.

‘Well, it’s very nice of them,’ said Tom to Ann as they were making their way out of Marvejols, with the cheering citizens seeing them off, ‘but I haven’t a clue what to do with it.’

‘Well, it’s no good looking at me,’ replied Ann. ‘I’m tone-deaf.’

‘I’ll show you,’ said Emily. And she took the musical instrument out of Tom’s hands and started tuning it as they walked along.

Some time later, Ann and Tom were intrigued to hear genuinely melodious sounds coming from their companion. They turned to see Emily playing the citole as she strolled along, looking for all the world like an angel who had just dropped down from heaven. Well, at least that’s what Tom thought.

‘I never knew you could play!’ exclaimed Tom, when she’d caught them up.

‘Every young lady plays a citole nowadays,’ said Emily. It was, apparently, a well-known fact.

‘Is that what this is?’ asked Tom, taking the instrument back from Emily. It was the shape of a fiddle only smaller, and instead of being played with a bow, Emily had been strumming the strings with a quill that had been tucked through the strings.

‘It’s considered the most suitable thing for young ladies,’ said Emily. ‘I’ll teach you to play, if you like.’

‘Except I’m not a young lady,’ pointed out Tom.

‘It’s not only young ladies who play it,’ she replied. ‘Anyone can play it. I’ll show you as we walk along.’

And that was how they covered many miles of France, with Ann hurrying on ahead and Emily and Tom dawdling behind, as Emily taught Tom the notes and chords of the citole.

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