The Grail Quest Books 1-3: Harlequin, Vagabond, Heretic by Bernard Cornwell Page A

pride, and he approved of both things.
    'For a man who was up to his knees in river mud last night,' the Earl said with a smile, 'you're remarkably clean.'
    'I washed, my lord.'
    'You'll catch cold!' the Earl warned him. 'What's your name?'
    'Thomas of Hookton, my lord.'
    'So tell me what you found last night, Thomas of Hookton.'
    Thomas told the same tale as Will Skeat. How, after dark, and as the tide fell, he had waded out into the Jaudy's mud. He had found the fence of stakes ill-maintained, rotting and loose, and he had lifted one out of its socket, wriggled through the gap and gone a few paces towards the nearest quay. 'I was close enough, my lord, to hear a woman singing,' he said. The woman had been singing a song that his own mother had crooned to him when he was small and he had been struck by that oddity.
    The Earl frowned when Thomas finished, not because he disapproved of anything the archer had said, but because the scalp wound that had left him unconscious for an hour was throbbing. 'What were you doing at the river last night?' he asked, mainly to give himself more time to think about the idea.
    Thomas said nothing.
    'Another man's woman,' Skeat eventually answered for Thomas, 'that's what he was doing, my lord, another man's woman.'
    The assembled men laughed, all but Sir Simon Jekyll, who looked sourly at the blushing Thomas. The bastard was a mere archer yet he was wearing a better coat of mail than Sir Simon could afford! And he had a confidence that stank of impudence. Sir Simon shuddered. There was an unfairness to life which he did not understand. Archers from the shires were capturing horses and weapons and armour while he, a champion of tournaments, had not managed anything more valuable than a pair of goddamned boots. He felt an irresistible urge to deflate this tall, composed archer.
    'One alert sentinel, my lord,' Sir Simon spoke to the Earl in Norman French so that only the handful of wellborn men in the tent would understand him, 'and this boy will be dead and our attack will be floundering in river mud.'
    Thomas gave Sir Simon a very level look, insolent in its lack of expression, then answered in fluent French. 'We should attack in the dark,' he said, then turned back to the Earl. 'The tide will be low just before dawn tomorrow, my lord.'
    The Earl looked at him with surprise. 'How did you learn French?'
    'From my father, my lord.'
    'Do we know him?'
    'I doubt it, my lord.'
    The Earl did not pursue the subject. He bit his lip and rubbed the pommel of his sword, a habit when he was thinking.
    'All well and good if you get inside,' Richard Totesham, seated on a milking stool next to Will Skeat, growled at Thomas. Totesham led the largest of the independent bands and had, on that account, a greater authority than the rest of the captains. 'But what do you do when you're inside?'
    Thomas nodded, as though he had expected the question. 'I doubt we can reach a gate,' he said, 'but if I can put a score of archers onto the wall beside the river then they can protect it while ladders are placed.'
    'And I've got two ladders,' Skeat added. 'They'll do.'
    The Earl still rubbed the pommel of his sword. 'When we tried to attack by the river before,' he said, 'we got trapped in the mud. It'll be just as deep where you want to go.'
    'Hurdles, my lord,' Thomas said. 'I found some in a farm.' Hurdles were fence sections made of woven willow that could make a quick pen for sheep or could be laid flat on mud to provide men with footing.
    'I told you he was clever,' Will Skeat said proudly. 'Went to Oxford, didn't you, Tom?'
    'When I was too young to know better,' Thomas said drily.
    The Earl laughed. He liked this boy and he could see why Skeat had such faith in him. 'Tomorrow morning, Thomas?' he asked.
    'Better than dusk tonight, my lord. They'll still be lively at dusk.' Thomas gave Sir Simon an expressionless glance, intimating that the knight's display of stupid bravery would have quickened the defenders'