Chapter 10 #3
The miller told Quinn of how they had been awakened by the hooded thieves and their grandson had been secured in an empty sack from grain.
He leaned forward to show Quinn the bump upon the back of his head and Lothair stepped forward to assess the damage.
They had been bound, hand and foot, then the fiends had threatened to kill the wife if the miller did not reveal the location of the treasury.
The pair were still frightened, which was only reasonable. Lothair offered a salve for the torn flesh upon their wrists and ankles, as Quinn walked the site with the miller, listening to his tale.
“Were the villains not pursued?” he asked Jean and Robert.
“They had vanished by the time we freed ourselves,” one insisted.
“And it is folly to ride into the forest alone,” said the other.
Quinn was not impressed with their dedication to their task. Indeed, his sense of distrust was so strong that he wondered if they were in the employ of the thieves.
He had always trusted his instincts and would do as much in this matter, as well.
“How many were there?” he asked the miller.
That man grimaced. “I saw two, but I thought there might have been a third.”
Quinn sent Lothair and Niall to search the surrounding area, despite the protest of the men-at-arms that it was too late to find any detail. He ignored that and spoke to the miller. “Would you show me the mill? It looks most fine.”
He entered the mill with Bayard and Amaury, the two men-at-arms following behind.
There was dust yet in the air and the millstone was grinding, sacks of grain still waiting to be ground.
Quinn asked about the annual schedule, the volume of grain, the tithes, and the miller was clearly glad to explain.
Quinn glanced periodically at Amaury who nodded approval of these details.
Finally, the miller showed the damage done to the stores by the bandits.
Both grain and flour had been spilled and fouled with mud.
He also showed the hidden treasury that he had been compelled to reveal, and expressed his dismay at the loss of his coin.
This practice too, Quinn thought, showed that the area had been safe for many years. “Something must change if Annossy’s border and interest is to be defended,” he said. “It is unacceptable that you and your wife should be threatened in your own home.”
“Aye, sir. I am glad that you agree.” The miller bowed. “Although we are indebted to the Lady Melissande for sending us two guards.”
“Was there a guard before?”
“My son, my lord, then no other.”
Quinn did not approve of that. “Did the Captain of the Guard not see fit to ensure your defense?”
The miller dropped his gaze. “He believed that after we had been robbed once, there would not be another attack.”
Bayard and Quinn exchanged a quick glance, and Quinn knew he was not alone in his suspicions.
“You have another treasury,” Amaury suggested quietly and the miller’s eyes widened with shock.
He stammered a protest, but Quinn could see the truth.
“Millers always do,” Amaury continued, his conviction making Quinn aware yet again of how little he knew of such matters.
The miller bowed his head in silent agreement.
“Do the thieves know of it?” Quinn asked.
“Who can say, my lord?”
“They might guess, as Amaury did,” Bayard noted.
“Indeed,” Quinn said.
“You cannot think they will return?” the miller asked in dismay. “Surely not thrice in one season?”
“I see no reason why they would not,” Quinn said, not wanting to deceive the miller. “But this time, we shall be prepared for them. If we are wrong, then I will not regret it.”
“Nor I, sir.”
“We must lay in stores for a great bonfire this day, and stack it that it might be lit on a whim. I will post a sentry at Annossy to watch for the fire, and if it burns, we will ride immediately to your defense.”
Quinn gestured to Lothair and Niall as they returned. “These are my comrades, who fought by my side in Palestine against the infidels. I would trust them with my life, and so I often have.” The miller and his wife eyed the two knights, who did look most formidable. “I leave them to defend you.”
“But we are here to defend the mill,” one of the men-at-arms protested.
“No longer,” Quinn said with resolve. “You will return to Annossy.”
“But the Captain of the Guard entrusted us with this task,” protested the other.
“We take our orders only from Gaultier,” said the first.”
“That has changed,” Quinn said with soft heat and the second man flushed. They both dropped their gazes. “I am now Lord d’Annossy. I instruct you to return to Annossy and serve in its defense now.”
The first warrior’s expression turned mutinous and he spoke tightly. “Aye, my lord.”
Quinn turned to face him fully, removed his glove, and extended his hand. “I would have you pledge fealty now, before you return to Annossy.”
The pair hesitated only a moment but did exchange a glance before stepping forward.
Each dropped to one knee and bowing his head before Quinn.
He took their vow of service but did not believe it was heartfelt.
Perhaps they liked this assignment far from their superior’s eye.
Perhaps the miller’s wife was a good cook.
They both appeared to be a little more plump that Quinn thought a fighting man should be.
Or perhaps they knew more of the raids than they chose to admit. They might even be in league with the brigands. Quinn knew only that he could not dismiss his sense that they were deceptive.
He gestured after they had made their pledge and Bayard led them to the task of laying the wood for the signal fire.
The miller took his wife’s hand when they were gone, his agitation clear. “I pray you would ride quickly if that fire is lit, sir.”
“Aye, with all haste. And now one choice is yours alone to make.” Quinn dropped his voice as he conferred with the miller and his wife. “We would have greater chance of success if all believe that the sole change is the arrival of my men and the laid fire.”
“Aye, sir.”
“That would mean that you continue with your established routine.”
“And that I remain here, as well as our grandson,” the miller’s wife said, seeing his import before her husband.
“I cannot command you to do as much,” Quinn said. “For there is peril in the choice. It must be your own.”
“Did you kill infidels in Palestine, sir?” that woman demanded.
“Many of them, and I saw many of our own killed, as well.”
“I would expect you saw much courage there.”
Quinn smiled. “And fear, too. Such a war brings out the best and the worst in all involved, I suspect.”
“We are at war here, sir,” she said. “The stakes are not so high as the recapture of Jerusalem, but I would see these villains caught and put to justice.”
“As would I.”
“Your scheme would be more likely to succeed if I remained?”
“I believe as much.”
Her lips tightened. “Then I will stay, my lord. And I will stand vigil with my husband.”
Quinn smiled. “I thank you for such courage.”
“This is our home, sir. We defend what is our own.” She nodded at Lothair. “If you are willing to teach me, sir, I would learn some of your skill while you are here.”
Lothair nodded. “That distance to Annossy can be too much if there is illness. We shall talk about the healing plants and their uses.”
The miller’s wife beamed with satisfaction. “I knew all would be well when the Lady Melissande took a husband,” she said with a nod. “There were others who said she should choose with greater haste, but her family have always ensured the welfare of those beneath their hand.”
“And I will see that tradition continued,” Quinn vowed, to their obvious satisfaction. “And what of your grandson? Would you keep him here or have us escort him back to Annossy?”
“He could remain with Xavier in the village,” the miller said.
“Let him choose,” his wife said. “He knows the risk and I would be glad of his companionship, but the choice must be his. Our new lord is wise in this matter.”
Quinn turned to the boy who nodded with a resolve that showed his resemblance to his grandmother. “I will stay, sir.”
Quinn nodded approval of that. “Have you a knife?”
The boy nodded and produced it. It was a better blade than Quinn had feared it might be.
“Niall will instruct you in its use for defense while he is here,” he offered.
“Like a knight’s training, sir!”
Quinn smiled. “Not quite, but such skill as he can teach you will be of use no matter what your trade.”
The miller nodded approval, then took his wife’s hand and dropped to his knees.
“Let us pledge our fealty to the new Lord d’Annossy,” he said. His wife nodded and followed suit, and Quinn looked up in time to see Amaury’s nod of approval.
He would master this responsibility yet.
Niall had found tracks at the ford, hoof prints embedded in the frozen mud on the far bank.
After the wood for the fire was laid and the miller supplied with tinder, Quinn made to take his leave.
The knights conferred over the tracks and agreed that there was evidence of two or perhaps three palfreys.
Two tracks were distinctive, one showing a nick from the shoe and a second in which a nail from the shoe made a larger impression.
The tracks led into the forest on the far bank, then were lost in the undergrowth there.
“You see?” one of the men-at-arms said. “They escaped and, with horses, they could be in Rome by now.”
Quinn doubted that this man had been through the Beauvoir pass of late, but he merely nodded agreement and surveyed the surroundings. There was no place within any proximity for horses to be stabled or bandits to be hidden.
Save the mill itself.
Kudon, indeed.
“I would ask you two to take the road back to Annossy, and seek any signs of horses on either side of that path,” Quinn instructed the two men-at-arms. “Bayard will ride with you and explain my orders to Gaultier once you arrive at Annossy.”
The pair exchanged glances, their suspicion clear.
Quinn kept his expression bland. “The day is so fine that I would hunt before returning to Annossy. Such a forest as this must be thick with game!”
“Deer and pheasant abound, sir,” supplied Robert.
“Ah! How I have missed the hunt,” Quinn lied. “We have neither beaters nor dogs, Amaury, but I say we shall make a fine day of it all the same.”
“Indeed,” Amaury agreed with enthusiasm and they laughed together as if carefree.
Bayard led the pair toward Annossy, and Quinn spoke quickly to his fellows, telling them of Kudon.
“You think the villains might have circled back to the mill?” Amaury asked when they were alone.
“I cannot see where else three horses could hide.”
“Nor I,” Lothair said. “And that pair know more than they have confessed. You are wise to keep a closer eye upon them.”
“Better yet, I may dismiss them from service, should I find an excuse,” Quinn said. “I would be curious to know who they might tell of whatever they know.”
“And what of that second treasury?” Niall asked.
“When they are long gone, we shall leave a token within it,” Quinn said softly and Amaury laughed. “This task of administration is not so different from making war.”
“Not when there is a villain or a spy at loose,” Amaury agreed. Niall and Lothair returned to the mill, intent upon seeing all set to rights. Amaury gestured down the river toward the bridge. “Let us look for tracks.”
“Then a deer, if we can manage it. I see you brought your crossbow.”
Amaury smiled. “There is not so much meat in the larder. I thought to be a good guest, if my lord host were inclined to hunt.”
“Melissande told me as much this morn, but it was when she brought the stirrup cup. I did not fetch a crossbow.”
Amaury bowed and surrendered the weapon. “Your holding, Quinn, so you must loose the first bolt.”
“More than that, I would be of aid in seeing Annossy well-supplied.”
“You would win your lady’s favor, whatever the price,” Amaury teased.
“Can you blame me? She is my lady wife and her happiness is my sole goal.”
“You should tell her as much,” the other knight advised.
“I fear she would not believe me,” Quinn said. “Nay, I would tempt her affection with deeds not words.”
Amaury nodded and glanced back toward the mill.
Bayard and the men-at-arms were out of sight.
They two rode down the hill on opposite sides of the river, keeping their horses well back from the flowing water.
“Here,” Amaury said, pointing to the ground at the same time that Quinn pointed down on the mill side of the river.
The hoof prints were evident on both banks, the steeds having gone down the river on the far side and returned on the side where the mill stood.
Amaury and Quinn followed the returning tracks into the forest, lost them again, then rode back toward the mill slowly.
Quinn dismounted outside the small barn beside the mill and crouched down, considering the tracks left by the three horses that had left for Annossy.
There was fresh mud there and new tracks from the palfreys of the men-at-arms.
He indicated a nick in the shoe of one horse and the mark of a protruding nail in another print, then met Amaury’s gaze. The other knight nodded. The tracks were the same.
“You have your brigands,” Amaury murmured.
“But not their leader,” Quinn said. “There might well have been three. Let us speak to the miller for a moment before we ride to hunt.”