The troubadour's song Read Free

loosened the pins that held her hair dressed in plaits and wound over the ears. Long, loose-flowing dark hair tucked under the cape would more resemble a young man's hair than the coils meant to be hidden by wimple and veil.
    "Come," she said to Marguerite, who now appeared to be a housewife to one of the burghers in town.
    Marguerite followed Allesandra through the outer chamber, and the maid was about to grasp the handle of the heavy door when a thunder of footsteps sounded on the spiral stairs beyond.
    "Wait," said Allesandra. "Something has happened."
    She pressed herself to the edge of the door and grasped the handle to pull it open only a crack. In the flicker of light from wall sconces that lit the inner staircase she saw the hated French foot-soldiers fly past, quivers of arrows on their backs, longbows tightly strung in their arms.
    A tall knight in hauberk, the chain mail garment that covered

    his long-limbed body from chin to toe, clanked down the stone steps and stopped a few feet from where Allesandra peered out. He issued sharp commands to the archers in northern French, which Allesandra understood from a year spent in that region, and she closed the door tighter for fear of discovery.
    "What is it?" whispered Marguerite, who had flattened her back to the door at the sound of the hurrying soldiers.
    Allesandra opened the door a crack once more, but the knight in command of the infantry had not moved. She lifted a finger to her lips to indicate to Marguerite that they must be silent.
    She could see little of his face, hidden by the helmet with nasal bar covering his nose and mail iaced over chin and tied to the helmet with thongs. But his deep baritone voice brooked no argument, and the sleeveless surcoat covering the chain mail to the knee was of rich material, the panels yellow and blue.
    The long sheath that hung from his belt was of finely tooled leather, and the sword hilt drew her attention. The cross-guard was inlaid with ivory and gold, and the round pommel carved in regal design. His long, triangular shield was divided into quarters of the same colors as his surcoat.
    A knot formed in her abdomen as she watched the archers move past in hurried discipline. Sergeants-at-arms stood behind this commander. When he barked orders to them, they flew down the stairs to take up positions by the north gate. Her throat felt dry. The Frenchmen had planned something.
    The archers were followed by more foot-soldiers, these carrying long, sharply pointed lances. The knight called out to a sergeant-at-arms who stopped beside him.
    "Make a sharp fight at the gate," he ordered. "A distraction to lure the enemy inside. The crossbows remain above to make sure you will have no more on the bridge than you can manage."
    The sergeant nodded and clattered downward to take charge of the challenge.
    Oh, Raymond, Allesandra thought to herself desperately. / must get to you and tell you what has happened within the castle and how many men are within the town. She clenched her jaw,

    trying to still the nervousness and listen to the French knight. For in moments she hoped to be in Raymond's camp, and she could relay what she heard here.
    - The knight said no more, but as he turned, she caught sight of his blazing dark eyes, a formidable expression on what she could see of his well-defined face. Prominent cheekbones spoke of his noble birth, and determination and courage showed in the way he moved as he joined the flow of soldiers hurrying downward.
    She waited only a few seconds to see if any more soldiers would come from above. Her breath came in quick, shallow gasps. She would have to take a chance. She was not armed and hoped to be taken for a mere squire. Surely they would not mas-' sacre the citizens yet. And mere soldiers would not be able to tell that she was in actuality a noblewoman worth interrogating.
    "Now," she hissed at Marguerite, who took her place holding the door as Allesandra slipped through.
    Her heart pounding,