Dark Age Woman

They talk. A new hope?

Outside, the peal of horns caught everyone's attention. From inside her workshop Carina heard it as did her helpers, Gina and young Anna and Myrna. She quickly left the loom and hurried to find Uberto on guard at the east wall. She had seen little of him lately except when he was sleeping.

She embraced him, armor and all, and he held her. "What is it, Uberto? What is the meaning of their horns?"

"Most likely they want to discuss terms of surrender. Look, there in the distance. See them walking toward us underneath that canopy?"

Carina looked out over the parapet. "I see it now. Some kind of colorful fabric supported on four sides by men holding poles. But we would never surrender to them. Am I right, Uberto?"

"Exactly, Carina. We have already discussed it and none of us is in favor of that. To do so would be to become their servants—giving up our arms and paying them heavy taxes. Instead of hearing the bells of the Cathedral, we would have to listen to the call to their god Allah five times a day. I am told the Saracens have more numbers than when we fought them before, but we ourselves are more prepared. The difference is that they now have catapults."

"I have only just heard of them. Don't they throw things?"

"They do. Mostly rocks to try to break down the walls of the city. With their machines they can hurl almost anything including animals and even people."

Momentarily covering her eyes with her hands she said, "I hate to think about it. Can't we do anything to stop them?"

Uberto sighed audibly. "It won't be easy, but I think we're going to have to try."

Carina grabbed him and holding tightly onto his waist, she looked into his eyes, "Not you, Uberto. Not you. Please! Promise me you won't leave the safety of these walls!" How well she remembered, it was her father who died on such a mission outside the walls.

Putting an arm around her shoulder and bending to her he said, "Carina, I will do what I have to do, but I also do not want to lose you. I will not volunteer for such an assignment, but if I am chosen, I will not turn them down. We all must fight against this enemy in any way that we can."

Carina pressed against him, afraid for him and for herself. She closed her eyes.

The sound of the horns again came to them, this time much closer. Uberto looked out. Now the canopy was drawing nearer. "We will have to go and talk to them. Father Carlo and Heribert are going. I'm not sure who else."

Carina and Uberto stood there with great numbers of townspeople peering over the walls looking at what was happening below. The edges of the colorful fabric fluttered in the breeze as it drew ever closer. Carina saw four men partially dressed in chain mail armor and another in the middle whose ornate garments bespoke royalty.

Appearing from the left, four men from the city approached them. One stood out, Father Carlos because of his black garb and tonsure. The men marched solemnly toward the Saracens.

As the people of Nice watched from the walls, twenty-four archers took positions overlooking the proceedings. They would be ready in case of treachery.

Those representing the town and those of the Muslims now faced each other, scarcely two meters apart. The crowd along the parapet hushed as one of the Saracens began speaking, his speech punctuated by numerous gestures. When he was done, Heribert answered, his voice lower and barely audible. What he said could not be understood by anyone not down there, but his words had an obvious effect on his listeners.

Suddenly, all except one of them became agitated, and in response their main speaker raised his voice and extended his arm forcefully toward the walls of the town. Father Carlo spoke next, his shaven head bobbing as he apparently tried to ameliorate the situation, which seemed to be escalating between the rival groups. Whatever he said didn't appear to be working at all.

Heribert turned toward the others to say something and then the group of four marched quickly and determinedly away, leaving the Muslims shaking their fists and shouting unintelligible words to their backs. It was apparent to everyone watching that the parley had not gone well.

"There will be a battle," spoke Uberto softly into Carina's ear as they watched from above.

"What everyone expected," she answered, turning to face him. "You do think we are strong enough to stop them?"

"I think so. They are a strong force, Carina. We will be tested."

"Hold me, Uberto. Hold me tight."

He turned to face her, noting a tear that trickled from one eye. He bent to kiss her fully on the mouth before wrapping his arms tightly around her.

Carina melted into his arms. This was what she wanted. To be loved. To be loved by Uberto. Since he lost his memory, he had been different to her. He was civil and even friendly toward her, but it was not the same as before. Not the same as the feelings they shared together. So many times she had told herself, He has lost his memory. How could he feel the same for me as before? It is too much to ask. Gradually, gradually, he will come to love me as before. I need to be patient.

The hug ended, much too soon for Carina. She could see that Uberto's mind was already moving to things of war. Still, she needed to tell him, "That is how I remember you, Uberto. Holding me close."

"I will hold you close again, and often, my new found wife. But now, I must go to where Leonardo and his knights will learn exactly what happened down there."

Carina did not need to know more about the terms offered for surrender, as there would be none. She knew that Nice would be besieged and that many lives would be lost. She could only hope and pray that the thick walls and military force would be strong enough to repel the attacks of the enemy.

She went from the wall to go back to her workshop where she had left Gina and the two young girls at their work of making cloth for bandages. It was dull, repetitive work, not the quality she was used to in garments, but they were only bandages. With a battle looming that would decide the fate of the city and its people, time spent making clean dressings for the wounded was likely the best use of her loom.

Chapter Twenty

Talia was faithful in caring for Patrizio. She brought him food three times a day and changed his dressings once a day. For his part, Patrizio seemed finally to understand the importance of allowing his wound time to heal. However, when she came to him this afternoon, bringing his meal, she found him in a very restless state. She found him with legs sprawled out on the floor leaning over an old manuscript. At least he was not sitting on the side where the arrow entered.

"Talia, look at this!" Setting his trencher of food down on the table, she knelt on the floor where she could lean over his body to look at the Roman script.

"See there," he said, pointing at the lines written on the paper.

"I see it, though the writing is faded and hard to read. Something about a machine that shoots large arrows at the enemy."

"That's it exactly. See, further down and on the next page it tells more about it. The Romans called it a ballista. Here, on the next page is a drawing. "

"So, an ancient Roman machine of war. Why are you interested, Patrizio?" she asked, turning from the manuscript to look into his eyes.

"Because, Talia, this kind of machine may be what we need to fight the Saracens. Quick, send for Giuseppe and his assistant, the best carpenter in Nice. And also, get Uberto. He will be the right person to operate it."

In the next part the enemy attack renews. Also, Carina will make a discovery. Let us wish the defenders well.  Hope you have enjoyed.