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I crouched, hidden from sight, and headed toward the eastern woods. A few people saw me scurry away. I crossed the stream at a low point and thrashed my way into the brush.
[252] I found a spot near the square and watched the bailiff clip-clop his way forward like Caesar on a stallion.
An anxious crowd formed around him, buzzing. A bailiff never brought good news: only higher taxes and harsh decrees.
He took out two official-looking documents. “Good citizens of Veille du Père.” He cleared his throat. “Your lord, Baldwin, sends his greetings.
“ ‘In compliance,’ ” he began, “ ‘with the laws of the land, in the reign of Philip Capet, king of France, Baldwin, duke of Treille, decrees all subjects known to give aid or shelter to the fugitive known as Hugh De Luc, a cowardly murderer, shall be treated as accomplices to the above-mentioned fugitive and receive the full and swift measure of the law.’ Which, for you sow-addled farmers who may not fully understand, means hanged by the neck until dead.
“ ‘Additionally,’ ” he went on, “ ‘all lands, property, and belongings owned or leased from the duchy by such persons shall be immediately forfeited, confiscated, and returned to the demesne, and all spouses, siblings, and descendents, free or indentured, shall be sworn into lifelong service to his liege.’ ”
My blood almost burst through my veins. The town was being punished for my crimes. All personal property handed over, worked lands returned, families ripped apart. I waited, holding my breath, for a voice to cry out against me. A wife, at wit’s end, afraid to lose any more. An unknowing child…
The bailiff took a long, measuring look around. He was an obscenity. “Thoughts, townspeople…? A sudden change of heart?” There was a tense, drawn-out silence. But no one spoke up. Not one of them.
Then Father Leo stepped forward. “Once again, bailiff, our lord, Baldwin, shows he is a wise and charitable liege.”
The bailiff shrugged. “Appropriate measures, Father. Word has it the scum is back in these parts.”
“So what good news have you brought in your other decree?” someone called out.
[253] “Almost forgot…” He smiled and rapped his head. He unfurled the parchment and, without reading, nailed it to the church wall. “General increase in taxes. All raised ten percent.”
“What!” A gasp escaped from the crowd. “That’s not fair. It ca
“Sorry.” The bailiff shrugged. “You know the reasons… Dry summer, stocks are low…”
Then, all at once, the bailiff stopped talking. Something had caught his eye. He stood there, motionless. It was the i
“Is this not the i
A few eyes traveled about uneasily.
“Who rebuilds it, I say?” The bailiff picked up one of the stones.
I began to tremble. This was surely it! The end of me.
Then a voice rang out of the crowd. “The town rebuilds it, bailiff.” It was Father Leo. “The town needs an i
The bailiff’s eyes lit up. “Most charitable, Father. And most assuring to hear this from you, a man whose word is above refute. So tell me, who will run this establishment?”
Another silence.
“I will,” shouted a voice. Marie, the miller’s wife. “I will tend to the i
“You are most enterprising, madame. A good choice, I think, since you seem to have no heirs to run your mill.”
The bailiff held her gaze. I could see he was unsure whether to believe a word. Then he tossed the stone he still held aside and made his way to his mount.
“I hope this is all true.” He sniffed and pulled the reins. “Perhaps on my next visit I will stay longer, madame. I look forward to the chance to test your hospitality for myself.”
Chapter 84
AS SOON AS THE HATED BAILIFF was out of sight, panic spread through town. I marched back out of the woods, grateful that no one had spoken against me. But I saw the mood had changed.
“What do we do now?” A frightened Martin the tailor shook his head. “You heard him; the prick suspects. How long can we keep up this ruse?”
Jean Dueux, a farmer, looked ashen. “The land we work returned to the demesne? We’d be ruined. Our entire lives lie in this land.”
People crowded around me, shouting and afraid. I was the cause of their misery. “If you want me to leave, I will.” I bowed my head.
“It’s not you,” the tailor said, looking around for support. “Everyone’s afraid. We’ve finally picked ourselves up from the ruins. If Baldwin ’s men come back…”
“They will come back, Martin,” I said to his worried face. “They will come back again and again. Whether I stay or go.”
“We took you in,” the baker’s wife shouted. “What is it you expect us to do now?”
I went over to the i
“We all feel that way, Hugh,” the tailor said. “We’ve all rebuilt. But what can we do to stop it?”
“We can defend ourselves,” I shouted.
“Defend?” The word was whispered through the crowd.
“Yes, defend. Draw the line. Fight them. Show them they can never take away our lives again.”
“Fight? Our liege?” People looked stu
“I told you before… Break the pledge.”
The gravity of these words silenced the buzzing crowd. “Break it,” I said again.
“If we did, that would be treason,” the tailor objected.
I turned to the miller. “Any more treason, Georges, than the murder of your son? Or you, Marte-your husband lies not far from my son. Was it any less treason when he was struck down defending your home? Or my own boy, who did not even know the word when he was tossed into the flames.”
“ Baldwin ’s a ruddy prick,” the miller replied. “But these obligations you want to throw down, they are the law. Baldwin would come at us with everything he has. He would crush us like moths.”
“It can be done, Georges. I’ve seen how a small, able detachment can defend themselves for months against a greater force. I’m not trying to stoke up fire like the little hermit, then have you follow me to ruin. But we can beat him if we stand up.”
“The duke has trained men.” Odo stepped forward. “Weapons. We are just farmers and smiths. One town. Fifty men.”
“Yes, and in each town between here and Treille there are another fifty men who hate Baldwin just as you do. Hundreds who have suffered the same misery and oppression. We beat them back just once, these men will join us. What can Baldwin do, fight us all?”
[256] Some were nodding in agreement; for others, the thought of standing up against the liege was almost impossible to conceive.
“Hugh’s right,” Marie, the miller’s wife, said. “We have all lost husbands and children. Our homes have been ruined. I’m tired of quaking in my bed every time we hear the sound of riders.”
“I too,” Odo shouted out. “We’ve pandered to that bastard our whole lives. What comes of it? A load of shit and death.” He stepped over to me and shrugged. “I’m a smith. I know smelting, not soldiering. But if you need me, I can wield a hell of a fucking hammer. Count me in!”
One by one, other voices were raised in agreement. Farmers, carters, shoemakers… people who had simply reached the end of their tether.
“What say you, priest?” the tailor begged, hoping for an ally. “Even if we beat Baldwin back, will we survive one hell only to be damned to another?”