The Devil in the Details

12. Chaos

Sir Constantine's small army was up early the next morning preparing for battle. The knight's scouts had brought news, good news from the sound of it. The main body of the enemy was in a camp not too far distant from the hamlet in which they had spent the night.

Isabel had travelled this last year with the army and knew the way of things. With the help of one of the guards, she and Deidre had the animals saddled and were ahorse moments before the marshalling call was given.

Everyone was going on the march except for Mother Ignatia and some of the locals, who stayed behind to prepare a small field hospital in one of the larger cottages in the hamlet.

It was their agreement that Isabel and Deirdre would do their best to avoid any fighting, but some of the local villagers who had been armed by Sir Constantine were going along, as were their wives to help care for them should the worst arise. They and the knight's squires would need assistance dealing with the bloodletting that was to come.

The men would all be in the fray. It was expected of Sir Alexis, and their three guards (who actually were men sworn to the chancellor) would fight as well. Their last orders had been to look after Isabel and Deirdre, but their master was not present, and they were fighting me. They would not miss a chance at plunder and glory. The men already were richer by a few weapons they'd earned from the fighting of the day before.

Much to Isabel's surprise, the pleasant young hostler took up a position in the line of march not too far behind her and Deirdre. It was sweet. The fellow was tall and lean, a virtual giant, but he appeared not much older than the young Surrey lass. It was delightful. But she decided there would be no more teasing or innuendo. Let love blossom on its own—or not. But it was nice to have someone looking over them.

By Isabel's guesstimate, the enemy camp was fewer than five miles away, but distances were always so damned tricky in this land. Weights, measures, and distances often varied from town to town. What she was told led her to make a guess, and as the party threaded its way through the trails and down the faint traces of the forest, more silently than she ever would have imagined, they made only middling time. It likely would be three or more hours until they reached their objective.

An awkward silence fell over them. Deirdre and Isabel usually passed the time while they traveled talking or reading to one another. Stealth would not allow such a thing now, and it was a strange sensation.

And it was otherwise a beautiful mid-spring day. The forest around them was absolutely stunning. How so very strange that absolute bloody chaos soon would reign over all of them. The notion only added to her sensation, as did the relative calm that she saw when she looked over to Deirdre. The young woman appeared to be perturbed by nothing.

On one agreeable note, Isabel had the greatest confidence in her mount, the small, shaggy, and agreeable horse, not much bigger than a pony, that had been her friend and protector during their journey through Proxima Thule. The Gelt was a little champion who she was not convinced wasn't in some way enchanted.

Isabel scratched the animal's ear, emptied her mind, and did her level best to endure their ride toward danger.

Once she had done that, her mood wasn't quite so bad. She still was afraid. But she was able to focus on other things. She did as she had done in the mountains and forest of Proxima Thule many weeks before. She did her best to focus on the woods around her, to take careful stock on where they were and what they were doing, and to focus on the details of their environment. Such a tactic had helped her then. Why wouldn't it help her now?

Happily, they were near the end of the line of march. There seemed to be three bunches of soldiers and supporting staff. And about 30 of her group were spread across the trail in front of them. There didn't seem to be anyone off to their right, so that was the direction upon which Isabel focused her attention.