Defiant Unto Death Read Online Free Page B

Perinne, one of the men who had fought with Blackstone these past ten years. A wall-builder like the man who led him.
    â€˜I thrashed across a pond once, Sir Thomas. Give me a shaft of wood to cling to and I’ll get myself out there with a bit of help from the current. We can’t have Meulon here taking all the glory for seizing the place. Besides, it’s safer in the water than having Gaillard sticking his spear up my arse every time a shadow moves.’
    The men laughed and muttered their agreement; the tension of uncertainty was broken.
    â€˜Right enough,’ Guillaume said, ‘but when you fire the tar barrels make sure you’re upwind or you’ll have less hair than you have now.’
    Perinne’s thinning, close-cropped hair showed bird’s-feet scars across his scalp. ‘I might not have the locks of a girl, Master Guillaume, but I’ll wager my old head has snuggled between more tits than your own.’
    Guillaume Bourdin wore his hair to his shoulders and, with his fine features, could easily be mistaken for a young woman – a mistake soon corrected when the fighting started – but it was seldom they had seen the young squire take a whore. The young man’s pride was easily hurt when it came to such matters, but to fight with men like these meant pride had best learn to suffer its own wounds; by now Guillaume’s carried as many nicks and cuts as Perinne’s scalp.
    Master Jennah said: ‘Merciful Christ, Sir Thomas. A lad and a man who can barely float on the tide like a turd? Is that your plan?’
    â€˜If victory were governed by how we look and whether shit floats we would all be Kings of France. I’ll swim with them until the barrels are in place and then return. Now, Master Jennah, you’ll keep your boat safe and tucked up here, because when the tide turns we must pray they don’t send river patrols out from that garrison. If they do, your ship is gone and your crew dead – and you with it. I’ll not be able to help you, because we will have put ourselves below that wall, waiting for the fire to take their attention.’
    Jennah wiped a hand across his face. The risk of being discovered and attacked was more of a reality now than it had ever been.
    â€˜Sir Thomas, I can’t anchor here for long. They’ll see my mast sooner or later. You need the tide to float the tar barrels; you don’t need my ship. Give me leave to sail when the wind turns.’
    It was Meulon’s voice that carried: ‘You abandon us?’ The tightly packed men jostled forward, their mood quickly changing.
    The ship’s master took a step back. These violent men were as great a danger as the enemy. He crossed himself, uttering an invocation to Jesu, Son of God. Blackstone stepped between him and the men.
    â€˜Master Jennah has done what I asked. He’s right: we have no further need of his ship. We either take this stronghold and are relieved by the Captal de Buch and his forces, or we die. And I for one would not go another hour on this bucket and leave my innards for the fish. I’ll fight, but I’ll not die on my knees, retching my arse through my throat!’
    His deliberately crude comment had the desired effect. ‘Amen, my lord,’ said Perinne.
    Others agreed. Meulon took his lead from Blackstone. ‘Then we’d best get ourselves beneath that wall while there’s daylight and try to stomach some of Master Jennah’s salted fish, because it will be a long night.’

2
    The eddies settled as the tide turned. Within hours twenty feet of the riverbanks would be exposed as the water raced for the sea. Blackstone stripped off and slipped naked into the chilled water. He gasped with the cold, feeling his muscles tighten. Guillaume and Perinne followed him, but they would be in the marshes all night so stayed clothed, their weapons wrapped securely in oiled cloth. Using the calmer water to drift