35 Days (Violent Delights Book 10)

Day 18: The siege September 4, 1415

According to Richard Courtenay, Bishop of Norwich

Henry's not spoken to me since I preserved his life and acted in my thankless position as his only source of self control. They ask me why I came. His uncle, his step mother, they asked me why I was going on campaign with him. I told them coolly that the last time I stayed and he went alone he came back with half his face gone, that I had to listen to tales of how he stayed afield two hours after, an arrow his brain, refusing to yield. I know that's who he is. I also want him to stay alive. He deserves to stay alive. The world needs him alive. He deserves to burn bright and not burn out.
And I know he doesn't see that. He thinks he's immortal now. And the man has never felt a touch of fear. I knew that from when I first looked into his eyes. So that is why I'm here not to temper him, but to remind him that he's still in the body of a mortal man.
And he can be cross with me over that. He's petulant. A rich child, but never spoiled, who's always gotten his way in the end because he's stubborn enough and clever enough to get it. And I won't apologize for keeping him alive and he loves that I oppose him, but he's still pouting.
But we have work to do.
"I'm aware you're not speaking to me but can we pause that till St. Crispin's day, when we'll be in Paris, and you can hate and not speak to me properly? Because we've work to do if Harfluer is to fall?" I ask, walking into his tent, not bowing, looking at my papers.
"No, get out," Henry says, not looking up from his work. The others had fun in the mines he's still pouting. Jack has a dozen bruises and two gashes came gushing to me about it like I'd want to hear how he nearly died.
"A messenger got out of Harfluer and all the way to Paris," I say.
"What?" Henry asks, sitting up, his anger melting away immediately, "What are you talking about?"
"My spies in Paris—"
"The—,"
"No not the astrologer one you hate. A different one," I say, "They say Harfluer called for aid. A messenger came and was sent back. I have no name yet. No description. But someone is getting in and out."
"If aid comes we are ruined, half the camp is rife with disease," Henry says.
"I know. But according to reports there's still no army yet," I say.
"We need to break them. Now," Henry says, standing, "Go and fetch—never mind—yes you write it I want them to know your hand."
"Why?" I ask, going to his desk all the same.
"Bit of a game I'm playing if this goes long. I answer your correspondence as you, and you do as I, we might confuse my movements when I leave Harfluer, they already don't know what move I'll make the Dauphin doesn't even know. The rules of the game—,"
"So if he doesn't know left from right, it could work. Yes, I'll send it. Generic call for surrender?" I ask, sitting down at the table.
"Yes—I'll dictate just get a start—damn," he has his hands to his hair, "We had fifty more dead this week. Thomas said three hundred of his are incapacitated."
"We need to start sending them back," I say.
"It's a show of weakness."
"So are mass graves!"
"I'll do lists of the sick. To go home, but they don't leave till after the siege is done. Otherwise they'll use it as a way to get out of it," he says, "We've had deserters as well."
"I heard, I've sent word that any Englishman found trying to get passage is likely a spy and will be treated as such. They'll try to seek sanctuary in the churches, see how far that gets them," I say, laughing a little.
"You control the church this end of France," Henry confirms.
"Your majesty, I AM the church."
He grins, "You're terrible."
"That is why you have me," I say, starting to write on a clean page.
"Why?" He asks, frowning a little. He knows he's been cruel to me. He's not going to apologize.
"You're breathing to me, Henry. I don't know how to stop and if I did I wouldn't be alive anymore. It's odd to me as well but there it is," I say, not really looking up.
"Christmas till the New Year I'll be cross with you," he says, "Give me time to think of a suitable punishment."
"I'll be looking forward to it."
He laughs a bit, shaking his head, "Idiot, you're such an idiot."
I nod in agreement.
"I'm going to get Humphrey, stay here."
"Right," I'll probably leave to be honest.