Chapter Thirteen #2
Andres nodded in agreement but he wanted off the subject of why he was not yet married.
Opening his mouth to broach an entirely new line of conversation, he suddenly caught sight of something coming through the fog.
The mist had lifted slightly, giving them a much greater range of vision, and he spied something on the road ahead, lingering by the edge of the trees. His good humor fled.
“Cortez,” he snapped, unsheathing his broadsword. “Look, up ahead by the trees. Do you see it?”
Cortez was instantly on alert, his sword coming forth because Andres had drawn his. He could see people, ahead on the road, and he turned to de Lohr, who was riding several feet behind him.
“Protect the wagons,” he ordered. “Tell the men to be on the defensive.”
James nodded shortly and spun his charger around, riding back through the ranks and delivering orders. The pace of the travel slowed as the men went into defensive mode but, gradually, they came upon the cluster of people lingering by the roadside.
Cortez lowered his sword as soon as they came into clear view.
It was mostly children, with a few adults intermingled, and he could hear a baby crying.
Although his sword was lowered, he still had it in his hand in case this was a ruse.
As the party drew nearer and he could see all of the women and children, he was positive it was a ruse. He turned to his brother.
“Ride up there and drive them off,” he rumbled. “I’ll not have them distracting the men so their husbands can attack while my soldiers are focused elsewhere.”
Andres nodded sharply and charged forward, heading straight for the gathering of women and children.
Most of them scattered with the big charger bearing down on them but one small boy didn’t move fast enough.
The charger bumped the child and the lad went flying, literally sailing into the mud a few feet away.
He landed heavily but unhurt, screaming his lungs out.
Andres, undeterred, pointed a finger at the fragmented group.
“Be gone, all of you,” he bellowed. “Be gone before I turn my men loose on you!”
What had started as pathetic begging had now turned into frightened screaming with a big angry knight in their midst. The women were wailing and so were the children.
The little boy who had been bumped by the charger scrambled to his feet and ran off towards one of the women who happened to be holding a baby.
Andres continued to yell at them, trying to intimidate them, but they did nothing more than scatter around.
No one made a serious attempt to leave. As the column drew close, the beggars tried to migrate in their direction and away from the bellowing knight, but Andres kept them herded away from the road as one would have herded sheep. Weeping and pleas filled the air.
Diamantha could hear them from where she was safely insulated in the wagon bed.
In fact, she had been hearing the cries for a couple of minutes now and they were growing stronger by the second.
Pulling Sophie off her lap, she set the little girl down on the cushions beneath the wagon bench and crept over to the edge of the oiled cloth to take a peek.
Cortez had told her not to leave the wagon, and she would not.
But she would take a look and see what the commotion was about.
It was natural curiosity, especially when she could hear children.
The mist had dissipated somewhat and yellow streams of light began to poke through the clouds, illuminating patches of ground below.
Diamantha could see a group of people several feet away and a big knight positioned between them and the road.
It was clear that he was trying to keep the group at bay.
Diamantha could see many women and children, all of them dressed in layers of tattered clothing, feet bound with cloth and not shoes, and no one had proper protection against the cold morning.
Increasingly concerned, Diamantha captured Drake’s attention.
“Sir Drake?” she called over to him. “What do those people want?”
Drake, helm on and visor down, turned his armor-clad head in the direction of the women and children. “Beggars,” he said. “They’ve come to beg for our food and whatever else they can wrangle from us. Andres is trying to run them off.”
There were some very little children among the group and after what she had seen in Gloucester, Diamantha was rather sensitive to small children in general. Her brow furrowed with concern.
“They look so poor and hungry,” she said. “Is there something we can do for them?”
Drake shook his head. “We would go hungry ourselves if we did,” he said. “There is so much need here that it would drain us quickly.”
The procession was passing by the group now and Diamantha, peering out from the wagon, was in clear view of the beggars.
When they saw her, they ignored Andres completely and began to wail in her direction.
One of the women, a round female with a mass of red hair wrapped around the top of her head, risked the angry knight and ran in Diamantha’s direction.
“M’lady!” she screamed. “Please, m’lady, help us! We’ve no crops, no food to eat! The children are starving, m’lady, please!”
Diamantha wasn’t sure what to say. As the lady of Corfe, she was often in the position of helping those less fortunate and she had indeed on many occasion.
It was difficult for her to refuse those in need of assistance.
But her region was rich and fertile, and those in need were usually those from whom sickness had taken its toll, or perhaps widows and orphans who simply needed help.
She’d never seen starving, destitute people like this, not ever.
It was an entirely new level of poverty.
Before she could answer, however, Drake cautioned her.
“We were warned about these people, my lady,” he said quietly. “They will do anything they can to steal from us. It would be best if you sat back in the wagon until we have passed through this stretch. These may not be the only people we meet along this road.”
Diamantha looked up at him. “Why do you say that?”
Drake flipped up his visor and scanned the landscape. “Because we were told that the river has been overflowing its banks since last spring,” he said. “This area has evidently been devastated and there has been much robbing and looting because of it.”
The group was following Diamantha at a distance.
As her wagon moved down the road, they followed like a herd of cattle following a source of food.
She drew them to her with her beauty and health and radiance.
In her, they must have seen hope. Perhaps they saw their only salvation.
In any case, the group was following, begging her for help.
Cortez could hear the cries, of course, and he turned to see Diamantha looking out from her wagon at the people along the road.
The least bit annoyed that she was not seated back in the wagon, sheltered from the outside world, he reined his charger around and thundered back through the column.
The charger kicked up mud clods as he reined the excited animal next to the moving wagon.
“Get back under the tarp,” he told her quietly. “We have a few more hours of travel before we reach Stafford.”
Diamantha looked at him seriously. “But these people,” she said, indicating the wailing group. “They’re starving, Cortez. I cannot look into the face of need and ignore it. Isn’t there something we can do for them?”
Cortez shook his head firmly. “We do not have any to spare,” he told her. “If we feed them, my men go hungry. Your daughter goes hungry. Who would you rather have hungry, those children out there or Sophie?”
It was a harsh way of putting it, but it was the truth.
Diamantha’s gaze moved over the group of beggars, hearing their sad cries.
Particularly, she was looking at the children, skinny little waifs who were filthy and cold.
She could see even from a distance that they had pale faces with even paler lips.
They were the color of the mists, these children who were so hungry and so desperate.
Greatly saddened, she turned back to Cortez.
“But those children…,” she began, knowing he was more than likely going to deny her again. “They are starving. We picked up sacks of oats in Gloucester. Could we not cook a big pot for them to eat? It would be something and it would not drain all of our stores.”
Cortez sighed heavily. “Diamantha, I realize you feel great compassion for them and it is an admirable quality, but we simply cannot spare anything,” he said, trying to be patient with her.
He thought pragmatically and she did not.
“I would like nothing better than to feed the world’s starving children, but not at the expense of my men and not at the expense of you. Can you understand that?”
She wasn’t happy with his answer so she simply looked away. Cortez, seeing that he had damaged her fragile sensibilities, leaned down in her direction.
“Diamantha?” he said quietly. “Please do not be angry with me. I understand what you are saying, truly I do, but I must make the choice between feeding my men and feeding these people because it will not stop with this group, I promise you. Like mice, once you feed one, the entire nation will come running and soon enough, I will have nothing for our people. Do you understand that?”
She did but she still didn’t agree with him. “We have two kittens, a rabbit, and a fox kit that you happily feed,” she said. “They are fed small apples and other things, and you do not complain. Are you telling me that these animals are worth feeding more than these people are?”
He grunted, hoping they weren’t heading for an argument. Things had been so wonderful the past few days that he was loath to take backward steps in this relationship, but in this case, he had to stand his ground.