serious than he had guessed. He tiptoed to the side of the gallery again, and strained his ears to hear what was being said below. The low voices were hushed; he could distinguish no words, but as he watched he saw the men draw their cloaks round them, and follow Grimbauld to the door.
Raoul licked his lips; his hand clenched unconsciously on his sword. Grimbauld was unbarring the door. As it opened a cold air spread over the hall. The cloaked men went out one by one, and the door was softly shut behind the last of them.
The single torch was still burning at the end of the gallery. Raoul pulled it from its socket, and went down the stairs, holding it high above his head. He bent over a sleeping form in the hall, and tried to shake honest Drogo de Saint-Maure awake. Drogo only groaned, and fell back on to his pallet.
The torch flared in the still darkness; the smoke from it rose in a thin spiral to the rafters. Raoul thrust it into a niche in the wall, and went silent as a ghost to the door. As his hand grasped the heavy latch he heard a sound behind him, and turned sharply to see Galet slink into the hall from the kitchen.
Galet was breathing hard, and his face shone with sweat in the torchlight. He flung out his hand to check Raoul. ‘Nay, nay, brother!’ he said in a shrill whisper. ‘You can do nothing there. They are gone to open the gates. There is a great company assembled not a league from the town, and at the appointed hour they will be here to seize our heron.’ He caught his breath on a laugh, and flitted to the stairs. ‘Come! and remember that a peacock may screech alarm. Oh, William my brother, now is the time!’
Raoul drew his sword with a hiss of the steel against the scabbard. ‘Do you warn the Duke,’ he said. ‘I must saddle two horses. If I am seen – why, maybe I can lead them astray while the Duke breaks through.’
‘The Duke has a new fool,’ Galet said, jeering at him. ‘Alack, what will become of me? The horses are tethered beyond the walls, brother fool.’
Raoul stared at him. ‘By the Bread, I think I am indeed the fool. You have been at work while I stayed wondering.’
‘Yea, yea, you are a child, cousin Raoul.’ The jester slipped up the stairs.
Raoul snatched the torch from the wall, and followed hard on his heels. No sound came from the room at the far end of the gallery where Guy slept. Raoul’s lips curled back in something like a snarl as he looked towards that shadowed doorway. ‘Judas will lie close until his cut-throats have finished their work,’ he whispered. ‘If not – why, by the Face, I shall not be amort!’ He lifted his sword, and the light shimmered on the blue steel and threw the runes on it into relief.
‘Nay, does the jackal kill the lion’s prey?’ Galet lifted the latch of the Duke’s door and went in.
The torchlight showed William sleeping on a bed of skins, with his cheek on his hand. Raoul closed the door softly behind him, and held the torch up so that the glare of it fell on William’s face. William’s eyes opened, blinking at the sudden light. They rested on Galet and grew wide awake in an instant. He raised himself on his elbow, frowning a question.
Galet struck him on the shoulder with his bauble. ‘Up, up, William, you are a dead man else!’ he mouthed. ‘Soul of a virgin, wherefore do you sleep? Your enemies are arming all around you. Little brother, if they find you here you will never leave the Côtentin alive!’
William sat up, thrusting him aside; he looked straightly across at Raoul. Light sparkled in his eyes; of alarm there was not a trace.
Raoul said urgently: ‘Beau sire, the fool speaks the truth. They who mean your death are gone to open the gates, and your men lie drugged below-stairs. Seigneur, rise! There is no time to lose.’
William threw back the rug that covered him, and stood up in his shirt and short breeches. He began to pull on his long hose. ‘So!’ he said, with a certain harsh exultant note
Raoul licked his lips; his hand clenched unconsciously on his sword. Grimbauld was unbarring the door. As it opened a cold air spread over the hall. The cloaked men went out one by one, and the door was softly shut behind the last of them.
The single torch was still burning at the end of the gallery. Raoul pulled it from its socket, and went down the stairs, holding it high above his head. He bent over a sleeping form in the hall, and tried to shake honest Drogo de Saint-Maure awake. Drogo only groaned, and fell back on to his pallet.
The torch flared in the still darkness; the smoke from it rose in a thin spiral to the rafters. Raoul thrust it into a niche in the wall, and went silent as a ghost to the door. As his hand grasped the heavy latch he heard a sound behind him, and turned sharply to see Galet slink into the hall from the kitchen.
Galet was breathing hard, and his face shone with sweat in the torchlight. He flung out his hand to check Raoul. ‘Nay, nay, brother!’ he said in a shrill whisper. ‘You can do nothing there. They are gone to open the gates. There is a great company assembled not a league from the town, and at the appointed hour they will be here to seize our heron.’ He caught his breath on a laugh, and flitted to the stairs. ‘Come! and remember that a peacock may screech alarm. Oh, William my brother, now is the time!’
Raoul drew his sword with a hiss of the steel against the scabbard. ‘Do you warn the Duke,’ he said. ‘I must saddle two horses. If I am seen – why, maybe I can lead them astray while the Duke breaks through.’
‘The Duke has a new fool,’ Galet said, jeering at him. ‘Alack, what will become of me? The horses are tethered beyond the walls, brother fool.’
Raoul stared at him. ‘By the Bread, I think I am indeed the fool. You have been at work while I stayed wondering.’
‘Yea, yea, you are a child, cousin Raoul.’ The jester slipped up the stairs.
Raoul snatched the torch from the wall, and followed hard on his heels. No sound came from the room at the far end of the gallery where Guy slept. Raoul’s lips curled back in something like a snarl as he looked towards that shadowed doorway. ‘Judas will lie close until his cut-throats have finished their work,’ he whispered. ‘If not – why, by the Face, I shall not be amort!’ He lifted his sword, and the light shimmered on the blue steel and threw the runes on it into relief.
‘Nay, does the jackal kill the lion’s prey?’ Galet lifted the latch of the Duke’s door and went in.
The torchlight showed William sleeping on a bed of skins, with his cheek on his hand. Raoul closed the door softly behind him, and held the torch up so that the glare of it fell on William’s face. William’s eyes opened, blinking at the sudden light. They rested on Galet and grew wide awake in an instant. He raised himself on his elbow, frowning a question.
Galet struck him on the shoulder with his bauble. ‘Up, up, William, you are a dead man else!’ he mouthed. ‘Soul of a virgin, wherefore do you sleep? Your enemies are arming all around you. Little brother, if they find you here you will never leave the Côtentin alive!’
William sat up, thrusting him aside; he looked straightly across at Raoul. Light sparkled in his eyes; of alarm there was not a trace.
Raoul said urgently: ‘Beau sire, the fool speaks the truth. They who mean your death are gone to open the gates, and your men lie drugged below-stairs. Seigneur, rise! There is no time to lose.’
William threw back the rug that covered him, and stood up in his shirt and short breeches. He began to pull on his long hose. ‘So!’ he said, with a certain harsh exultant note