Lionheart's Scribe Read Free

seemed tobe standing on a raised platform—perhaps so that everyone could see him? His legs were planted wide apart and he stood firmly, confident and steady in spite of the tossing deck beneath his feet.
    I drank in the sight. Never have I seen anything more splendid. This is how a king should look. In that moment I felt such a longing surge up in me. It was stronger even than the strange feeling I had the other night when I sat by the harbor and watched the king of France’s ships rocking at their moorings. Perhaps it is all the talk of crusade, perhaps it is the sight and smell of these foreign ships, but I long to be on one of them. To be one of the men I see here every day who are going to sail far away to new countries, new adventures. To do my part to regain Jerusalem. To do God’s will.
    But what nonsense I am writing. It is impossible and I know it.
    The twenty-third day of September
    I could not write anymore last night. My fingers were cramped and my quill too dull. I have sharpened it today though, and I must continue. I know full well that I will never see such a sight again and I do not want to forget any of it.
    Forty-six oars drove King Richard’s warship on. I counted. It sailed smoothly into the harbor. As it approached the pier, the great square sail suddenly went limp. One last sweep of the ship’s oars brought the great vessel alongside, and then the oars were raised skyward, all together. A command rang out and they lapped down, one by one, to lie in rowsalong the inside of the ship. It was so neatly done. During the whole time King Richard stood with his cloak billowing around him.
    A great cheer went up from every person on the shore.
    â€œHe has a great enthusiasm for war, does England’s Richard,” I heard a man behind me say. I can well imagine that to be true.
    As soon as his ship was tied up the king leaped ashore without waiting for assistance of any kind. That seemed to upset the nobles and the other important men standing there waiting to receive him. They probably had a whole ceremony planned, but this king is obviously a man who does things his own way. Trumpets and clarions sounded, a little raggedly, as if they had been taken by surprise. Then King Philip strode forward out of the crowd. The two kings embraced and I was finally able to get a look at the king of France. He is as tall as King Richard, but I thought he had a sly look about him. I would not trust him if I were the king of England.
    More cheers rang out. I found I was cheering as loudly as everyone else. I shouted until my voice turned hoarse. In my fervor I threw my cap in the air. That was a mistake, for when it came down, some other hands grabbed it and I never saw it again. It was my only head covering and my ears will suffer for it when the weather turns cold.
    I made my way back to Vulgrin’s stall, but couldn’t keep my mind on my work. I made stupid mistakes and blotted two skins. I think Vulgrin tiredhimself out beating me. But I could not think of anything other than the sight of Richard Lionheart, king of England, sailing into our harbor.
    The thirtieth day of September
    I thought that King Richard would lodge in a palace in the city, as does King Philip of France, but instead he has settled his army outside the city walls. It is a huge encampment. They say he has five thousand men with him.
    I could not wait to finish my work with Vulgrin today so that I could go to see for myself. In my haste I ruined another skin and received another good beating for it. In a way that was a blessing though, as Vulgrin was beside himself with anger. He stormed away after he had beaten me and shouted for me to get out of his sight, so I was able to get away early. I managed to steal the skin I ruined too. Now that I have so many interesting things to write about, I do not intend to stop.
    I stuffed the skin down the front of my tunic and made my way to one of the city gates where I could look down