The Crusader's Crown (Tales of the Brotherhood Series Book 1) by James Mercer (ink ebook reader txt) 📗

you were so talented a swordsman,” came the soft voice of Selva.

  As he turned to face her, she held out a fresh linen cloth.

   “I have had a lot of practice,” he answered, taking the towel from her hand and drying himself down.

  As the two walked to his tent, he called inside.

   “Jimmy. Get up.”

   “What is it,” replied a muffled voice.

   “Saddle up. We ride for the city.”

   “Can’t you take someone else?”

   “We head for the trader’s district.”

   “The trading district,” came an excited reply.

  Anything for the chance to exchange booty for coins and Jimmy Houghman was always willing. The scoundrel appeared at the tent’s entrance, still doing up his belt buckle. As he sprung from the tent, he nearly tripped over one of the stools. The performance made Selva laugh and it was only then that Jimmy noted her presence. It was also the first time Robert had heard her laugh and he felt his heart flip.

   He shook his head to collect his thoughts. “Gather Jürgen, Ridley, Aethalstan and Guy. Tell them to meet at the paddock fully armed.”

   “What about Cherik?”

   “Cherik is having a bit of trouble walking at the moment.”

  Once Jimmy had gone, Robert fetched a fresh undershirt from his tent and then donned his hauberk followed by a brown iron-studded leather jerkin. He decided he wouldn’t need his full mail.

   “Do you have to go?” asked Selva. “I would like to talk to you.”

   “I would like that very much Selva. I don’t know yet why the Commander wishes to go into the city with an armed guard. I have to obey orders.”

  Selva frowned but did not persist.

   “Maybe when I return we could talk some more?”

  She looked up and smiled.

   “I would like that very much.”

*****

The small troop of riders approached the city in a short column of pairs with Jimmy holding the Sancerre pennant.

   “So how goes your new responsibility of being a guardian to the maiden?” asked the Commander.

   “More challenging than I had expected,” replied Robert moodily.

   “Alfonso suspects that she has endured far more than we originally thought. You will need to slowly encourage her to confide in you.”

   “You sound like a bloody poet!”

   “Let’s just say, I’ve had experience in these situations,” answered Reynard somewhat smugly.

When they arrived at the trading district, the Commander gave his men permission to take their leave and wander the streets while he and Robert went to inspect the new surcoats. The seamstress with her company of daughters and extra hands had been true to their word. They had already completed nearly one hundred surcoats. One of the men who had remained behind to guard the lady’s new earned wealth, reported that the party of seamstresses had worked non-stop to complete the task.

   “I tell you sir, it was like watching her commanding troop movements. She called in extra helpers, sent her daughters off in search of extra linen, and gave firm instructions to each lass as to what role they would play,” he said laughing. “You should recruit her into the Forgotten Army.”

   “Any trouble?”

   “Couple of faces have become familiar. But even if we hadn’t been here, they’d ‘ave been hard pressed to get passed that pack of vixens,” nodding towards the women, who were still hard at work.

  The second group the two captains had found to do the cavalry units’ surcoats, along with those in the Spurling colours, was in the next street along. Several weavers and a couple of other traders who had skills in such crafts, had banded together to complete the task.

   “This is fine craftsmanship,” complimented the Commander.

  He held up one of the surcoats carrying the colours and coat-of-arms of Spurling to the light.

   “How many more will you have ready within five more days?”

   “It’s becoming more difficult my lord. Much of the dyed fabric we used has run out and those others in the city, who did have more, sold it to that wretched hag, a couple of streets down,” said the trader bitterly.

  The Commander smiled. ‘Fair play to the seamstress’ he thought to himself for outwitting the trader. He tipped out four gold coins from the small pouch in his belt into his hand, the weaver’s eyes lit up.

   “Are you sure there is no more left in the city?”

  The weaver stuttered as he eyed up the gold hungrily. The Commander handed two coins over to the craftsman.

   “The other two when you have another fifty finished when we return in five days,” he said.

  When the men returned at the meeting point they were told to mount up. Jimmy was looking very pleased with himself. No doubt his own trading had been good and his purse was considerably fuller. Robert knew it was that his friend had been selling the loot from the bloodthirsty rescue that he had taken part in.

  A wagon, pulled by two oxen arrived, its driver perched nervously on the edge of the seat. In the back were the finished surcoats, stacked neatly and covered by a leather cover.

   “Right then, Jimmy. You ride at the front with Rob and I. Ruscar, you and the other lads guard the rear.”

  The Commander had been introduced to Guy, Aethalstan and Ridley earlier but with so much on his mind he had forgotten their names.

  The journey back was slow and tedious but when they finally arrived Robert took a second look at the surcoats his own unit of men would be wearing. He could not help but smile with pride.

 

Chapter 10

 

Toledo, June, 1212

Robert, Alfonso and Hamish met the Commander as he appeared from