Chapter 34

Edmund leapt from back of his horse and lost not a stride in reaching the door of the Overbournes’ cottage, one of the straggle of dwellings wedged between the western bank of the Tamber and the Dorham road. Telbert Overbourne had time only to fumble open the door and utter “What in all—?” before Edmund cut him off.

“An army,” said Edmund. “Get everyone up. You have to go, right now.”

Telbert blinked. There was a trail of sleepy drool in his beard.

“Dear, who is it?” spoke his wife, Elsie, from the darkness behind him.

“There is an army coming.” Edmund raised his voice. “Wake everyone up and get them to assemble in the square, as fast as you can.”

Telbert stepped outside. He looked about him—at the moonlit bridge downstream, then across the road at the silent doorstep of his neighbors. “But . . . what’s all this about?”

“Lord Wolland.” Edmund hurried back to his horse and leapt astride. “He’s invading; he’s bringing an army in off the moors.”

Telbert woke up at last. He turned white and peered over the river at the dim gray rises to the east.

“Can you knock everyone around here awake and get them moving without raising a shout?” Edmund turned his horse to face south again. “Master Overbourne, please listen—you’ve got precious little time.”

Elsie leaned out behind her husband. “Edmund? Is it true what they’re saying? Is Lord Aelfric really dead?”

“He is.” Edmund nudged his horse to a walk. “Everyone, Master Overbourne—to the square, as fast as you can go.”

He rode back down the Dorham road into the square and turned at the bridge. He cast a look along the arc of stone, to the silhouette of Geoffrey standing watch on the rise and to the grim width of the moors beyond. He felt a grip of fear for his brother, then his parents and his home.

“I’ll never be what you want.” He spoke to the blank night sky. “I love them all too much.” He half expected an answer, but none came.

The mill stood first on the left past the bridge. Edmund leapt the millrace and thundered on the door. “An army comes. Meet in the square!” He had said it and moved on before Jarvis Miller had a chance to open his mouth.

Bella Cooper was already awake next door. “Edmund? What’s all this? Did you hear about—”

“There’s an army coming.” Edmund dashed across the street and pounded on Gerald Baker’s door. He did not wait to explain, for by then Jarvis and Bella were out in the street. He slapped his horse’s rump to get him walking. “Everyone meet in the square.”

Bella Cooper, and then Gerald Baker, ran from house to house, waking their neighbors and spreading the alarm. By the time Edmund reached the statue in the middle of the square, he had passed Jordan Dyer, his sister Missa, and Anna Maybell shuffling past in their nightclothes. He turned and raced for home, his parents’ inn just south on the Longsettle road.

Sarra Bale leapt out the front door of the inn at the sound of Edmund’s knocking. “Edmund! Oh, son!” She seized him in her arms.

“Mum—Mum, let go!” Edmund wriggled free. “We’ve got to hurry, we’ve got to get everyone together.”

“Where’s your brother?” Harman Bale lurched out behind Sarra, still in his cloak and boots, one hand held pressed under his shirt. “Where’s Geoffrey? He went off looking for you yesterday, and no one’s seen him since.”

“He’s safe, Father, he’s keeping watch just past the bridge.” Edmund spied Miles Twintree peering through his window and waved him out onto the road. “Miles, bring your parents. Bring everyone.”

Edmund’s mother let go of his arm. “It’s not another of those thorn monsters, is it?”

“It’s an army.” Edmund said it loud enough to put the word about to Baldwin Tailor, to the whole of the Twintree clan and all those of his neighbors still stumbling out their doors with questions. “An army from Wolland is marching in from the moors. They will reach the village before dawn.”

Even as he said it, he heard a roll of hoofbeats rising up the Longsettle road, a heavy, four-beat gait—a draft horse pushed to its limits in a sprinting gallop. He stepped outside to look, his parents following. Katherine flew past the first of the houses and charged up toward the inn. She leapt from the saddle and met him at the door of the stable.

Edmund took the reins of her horse. “Where’s Harry? What about his knights and men-at-arms?”

Katherine walked with him into the rickety stable beside the inn. She looked around to make sure they were alone, then shook her head.

Edmund felt fear tighten its cords around his chest.

Katherine leaned against the plain wooden rail. “If there was ever something you wanted to say about Harry, something about him not being the boy I thought he was, now would be the right time.”

“Never mind that, what about the village?” Edmund yanked off saddle and bridle, and left the horse some hay. “What are we going to do?”

Katherine raised her head. “We are going to fight.”

“Fight?” Edmund thought it was quite the wrong time to make jokes.

“You heard what those men said in the camp,” said Katherine. “They’re to be paid in land and plunder. More than that, they’re hungry, and their horses will need grain to keep them on the march, our whole harvest at the least. Harry’s made a deal to keep himself safe in his castle, but the rest of us don’t have the luxury of stone walls to give us shelter. If that army crosses the bridge, we will be at their mercy. We must turn them back.”

Edmund looked at the ground, then at Katherine. “Tell me how I can help.”

“I was hoping you’d say something like that.” Katherine led him back outside. She passed through the swelling crowd of her neighbors, and leapt onto the pedestal of the statue in the square. “Wat Cooper. Wat, over there, how much pitch have you got?”

Wat Cooper stared up at her, slack in the mouth.

“How much pitch have you got?” Katherine leaned over and repeated it to his wife, Bella. “For sealing barrels. How much?”

“We just got in a batch, dear,” said Bella. “It’ll last us till spring—but why?”

“We’ll need it all. Bring it out.” Katherine waved at them. “Go, both of you! Go! Now, Aydon, Aydon Smith, where are you?”

Young and brawny Aydon Smith stepped out from the crowd. “What’s all this about? We’ve got to get running, and soon!”

Katherine grabbed him by the arm. “Aydon, do you have any chains?”

Young and brawny, and not so very quick. “What?”

“Chains.” Katherine pointed east across the square. “Wide enough to stretch between those posts on the bridge.”

“Er.” Aydon looked. “Yes. Maybe three.”

“How quickly can you forge an open link on each end?”

“What are you babbling about?” Edmund’s father hobbled over from the inn. “There’s an army coming! We’ve got to clear out of here while we can!”

“Hear me, all of you,” said Katherine. “We must hold our ground. We must fight.”

“Fight? Have you gone foaming mad?” Baldwin Tailor’s querulous voice broke over the frightened murmur. “There’s an army coming over the bridge! We have no chance!” His words drew a clamor of agreement—many went so far as to break from the swelling crowd and head for their homes to pack what they could for a desperate flight.

“Wait. Wait—listen, everyone!” Edmund sprang up to stand at Katherine’s side. “If we run tonight, we might keep our lives, but we will lose our livings. Look around you. That will be another man’s mill, another man’s inn, and those of you who survive may find yourselves another man’s servant or another man’s wife. What we have here, what you have built all your lives, will be broken, and you will be hard pressed to last the winter when every single grain you have grown this year sits in another man’s belly. There is an army coming, in off a march across the hard moors. They are to be paid with what they can take from their enemies. You are their enemies whether you want it or not.”

He had not meant to make a speech. It just came out that way. “If I thought your best course would be to gather your possessions and run, that is what I would advise. I tell you that we must fight.”

A few of the folk around them seemed to shake from their terror. Others, while still plainly frightened, were no longer frightened out of their wits. They clustered in around Katherine and Edmund, ready to listen.

Katherine nudged Edmund’s side. “That was good.”

Edmund turned to Katherine. “You do have a plan, don’t you?”

She looked down the road, then over at the bridge. She nodded once.

“Then—what’s coming?” said Hob Hollows. “What are we up against?”

“The second sons of all the gentry of Wolland,” said Katherine. “Every hungry, landless boy who’s grown up on horseback, wishing for a claim of his own. All of them riders, most of them knights.”

“Knights? All knights?” Baldwin Tailor’s voice soared high up his nose when he was frightened. “Are you mad? Nothing can stop knights on the charge!”

Katherine held up her hand again to quell the panicked murmurs. “Maybe not, on an open plain.” She pointed to the bridge. “We are not going to give them one.”

Baldwin spluttered. “But, they’re knights—trained men of war! They’ve got swords, they’ve got armor!”

“Yes,” said Katherine. “Heavy steel armor, great links of chain on their chests, and they must ride across a narrow bridge—at night, above a fast, wide river.”

A few of the folk around them seemed to understand. Something like hope began to dawn on the faces of the bravest, and for others, at least the worst of their despair began to fade.

“You are farmers and tradesmen, but you are also the finest archers in all the world,” said Katherine. “Lord Aelfric had us practice at the targets every week to keep us in training, and you’ll kneel on his grave to thank him by tomorrow, that I promise.”

The folk of the village clustered in close around Edmund and Katherine. Some of the men who had unstrung their bows bent to string them again.

“We use the darkness,” said Katherine. “We use the bridge, we use panic and fire. Yes, they’re knights, and they come in chain hauberks with sword and axe, but they don’t come with bows or anything else that can hurl a distance. I’ve just scouted their camp with Geoffrey and Edmund, and I tell you we can beat them, we can send them screaming back off that bridge if you heed me and hold hard.”

“But . . . what about Harry?” said Baldwin. “What about the castle, the guards and all?”

“They cannot help us tonight,” said Katherine. “It falls to us to make sure that these men never cross this river, that not only Moorvale, but the rest of the north stays safe. If we hold together and follow the plan I have made, we can turn them back, here and tonight. Do you trust me?”

“I do.” Mercy Wainwright stepped out from the crowd. She looked around her. “We are with you.”

And they were. Edmund could see it.

“Then heed me,” said Katherine. “This is what we will do.”