Free The Iron Castle (Outlaw Chronicles) by Angus Donald Page B

with news of the enemy dispositions. Come on. Wake yourself up, man.’
    A score of senior knights and barons stood yawning in the candlelight of that rustic church. I saw Sir Benedict Malet leaning against the far wall, his eyes closed, his face greyish and seemingly a little thinner. Little John, Robin and I stood near the altar and John handed me a beaker of wine with a manchet balanced on the top. I tore into the small round loaf like a ravenous wolf and washed the sweet bread down with the wine. I was awake now. The sight of the King, strutting jerkily about the church, talking, joking with his barons, amazed me. He was filled with a desperate, manic energy that crackled about him like lightning. I had seen its like before – around his brother – and indeed, although I hate to admit it, he did indeed have something of the Lionheart’s air.
    Nevertheless, it was William des Roches who called the gathering in that church to business. ‘Gentlemen, my advance men have reported back from Mirebeau,’ he said. And all the sluggish chatter in the church stopped.
    ‘It appears that Queen Eleanor and her party are holding out. The town has fallen, its east gatehouse has been burned to the ground, and the Bretons have looted the place pretty thoroughly. They have also managed to take the outer defences of the castle, the curtain wall and the outbuildings, but not the keep; the Queen still defies her enemies from the safety of the keep, praise God. Duke Arthur is there. His personal standard has been seen. Hugh and Geoffrey de Lusignan, Raymond de Thouars, Savary de Mauléon and a good many more of the most prominent rebels are also there. My scouts estimate their forces in and around Mirebeau to be about one thousand two hundred men, with more scattered across the whole county. After some losses on the ride – accidents, falls and fatigue – we have some seven hundred effectives. So they outnumber us. So what! We are easily a match for them. But the best news of all, the most important consideration’ – des Roches paused here for greater effect – ‘is that they do not know we are here. Gentlemen, we have surprise on our side.’
    ‘We will catch them sleeping in their beds!’ crowed the King, bouncing on his toes with excitement. ‘We will slaughter them before they can pull their dirty braies on, let alone their armour. Ha-ha. I will have that brat Arthur hanging from his neck from the battlements by sundown.’
    William des Roches frowned at this last remark. ‘Sire, you promised me. You gave your word.’
    ‘What?’
    ‘Sire, you swore to me, when I rallied to your banner, that Duke Arthur of Brittany – your nephew – would be treated decently, if captured alive. You gave your solemn word of honour. He is an excitable lad, and evil friends have persuaded him to take up arms against your Highness but, by the laws of chivalry, if he is captured…’
    ‘Yes, yes, all right, William. I won’t hang the traitorous little rat.’
    ‘Sire, I want your assurance that you will heed my advice when it comes to Arthur. I want your assurance that you will not harm him in any way.’
    ‘And I have given it to you. Enough of this matter. Let us proceed to the plan of attack. Locksley, what is your counsel?’
    Robin took a couple of steps into the centre of the gathering, where all could see him. ‘Speed and surprise – these are our allies. If the east gate is destroyed, I’d say that is our attack point. I doubt there will be much to obstruct us. We go in hard and fast, straight into the town and punch through to the castle. We don’t stop until we have linked up with the Queen and her people in the keep. If it goes badly, we can regroup in the castle and, if necessary, defend ourselves best there. But I do not think it will. Indeed, quite the reverse. I think our true problem will be making the most of our victory…’
    I felt a quickening of my body at Robin’s words. For the past two excruciating days and