ONE

 

No one should have been abroad with such a storm raging outside, but the man who entered Father's great hall, drenching the flagstones with every step, feared far more than just the storm.

"The sea wall has been swept away. The last of the harvest is lost," he gasped out.

"What of the village?" Father asked.

The man hung his head. "The villagers have already sought high ground, and we will not know how much they have to return to until morning. But with so much water coming through, and the size of the waves...they will need sanctuary for more than a night, while the village is rebuilt."

Father nodded gravely. "On better ground this time, I hope." He clapped his hands. "Summon my men. See to it that every man who can help with the evacuation and rebuilding is on hand, first thing tomorrow morning."

All Romein's brothers rose as one. "Yes, Father." They filed out of the hall, leaving Romein alone at the table.

He got to his feet. "Father, I am almost a man. Please, let me help the relief effort." Younger boys than he served as pages at court, he knew, but Father kept him here at home instead. Likely because the nearest court was ruled over by the Bishop of Maastricht, the mortal enemy of Father, his family and all those who swore allegiance to Father as Count of Gelderland.

Father regarded Romein. "Do you have your sword?"

"It is upstairs, in the chest by my bed," Romein replied. Swords were not worn to dinner, his mother had said so many times he and his brothers knew it was as good as law.

"See that you wear it when you ride out tomorrow. While the others are seeing to the evacuation, you will guard the bridge to Elst. Your job will be to warn anyone who attempts to cross it of the terrible fate that awaits anyone who reaches Elst, or the Bishop's lands at Veluwe."

Romein wet his lips. "What kind of fate?"

"Last time floods swept away the village, many of our people sought shelter in Saint Martin's Church, in Elst. When the Bishop heard, he had them arrested, as thieves and trespassers, and punished accordingly, before I or your grandfather could intervene."

Romein's mouth dropped open in horror. "But it's sacrilege to violate the sanctuary of a church! How could the Bishop get away with it, and not be excommunicated?"

Father shook his head. "The Bishop is the priest's superior, and he denied them sanctuary, seeing as they were already trespassers on his land. They never reached the church. And they cannot be allowed to cross the bridge now, for once they set foot on the Bishop's lands, he may do with them as he pleases. So you must stand firm, and guard the way."

"I will go now, Father," Romein said. Better that he go without sleep than see any of his father's people punished for trying to flee the floodwaters.

"No, you will ride at dawn, and no earlier," Father said. "No one should be out in such a storm."

Romein sank down onto the bench, pushing his plate aside. He had no appetite now. "Yes, Father."

Little did he know that the storm and the flood would be the least of his worries on the morrow.