Ash: The Lost History Part 6

"b.i.t.c.h in men's clothing," he said. "One day, Captain, you really must tell us what use you have for your cod-flap."

Robert Anselm and Angelotti and half a dozen of Ash's sub-captains moved up so that their armoured shoulders touched hers. She thought resignedly, Oh well. . .

Ash looked deliberately down between her ta.s.sets, at the codpiece on the front of her hose. "It gives me somewhere to carry a spare pair of gloves. I imagine you use yours for the same thing."

"c.u.n.t!"

"Really?" Ash inspected his green and white particoloured bulge with visible care. "It doesn't look like one - but I dare say you know best."

Any man drawing his sword among the Emperor's guard is looking to be cut down where he stands: she was not surprised to see the young German knight keep his hand off his sword-hilt. What startled her was the sudden flash of his appreciative grin. The smile of a young man who has the strength to take a joke against himself.

He turned his back, speaking to his n.o.ble friends as if she had said nothing at all, pointing with one gauntlet at the pine hills miles to the east. "Tomorrow, then! A hunt. There's a he-boar out there stands high as my bay mare's shoulder-"

"You didn't have to make another enemy," G.o.dfrey muttered despairingly at her ear. Heat or strain whitened his face above the dense beard.

"It's compulsory when they're a.s.sholes. I get this all the time." Ash grinned at her company priest. "G.o.dfrey, whoever he is, he's just another feudal lord. We're soldiers. I've got 'Deus Vult' engraved on my sword - his has 'Sharp End Towards Enemy'."9 Her officers laughed. A flutter of wind picked up the Imperial standard, so that for a second the sun blazed above her through yellow and black cloth. Smells of roasting beef drifted up from the long tent-lined lanes of the camp. Someone was singing something appallingly badly, not drowned out by a flute now playing in the Emperor Frederick's pavilion.

"I've worked for this. We've worked for this. It's how the rules of power operate. You're either on your way up or your way down. There's never a place to rest."

She watched the faces of her escort, troops in their twenties for the most part; then her officers, Angelotti and Florian and G.o.dfrey and Robert Anselm as familiar as her own scarred face; the rest new this season. The usual mix of lance-leaders: the sceptics, the over-devoted, the crawlers, and the competent. Three months in the field, she knows most of their men by name now.

Two guards in black and yellow left the tent.

"And I could do with dinner." Ash felt her hair. They had been standing waiting long enough for the last silver curls to dry after her hasty ablutions. The weight of her hair pulled at her when she turned her head, and the flowing thick skeins caught between the plates of her armour: she risked it, for the picture she knew she made.

"And-" Ash glanced about for Florian de Lacey and found the surgeon's face was now missing from the command group. "f.u.c.k it. Where's Florian? He's not p.i.s.sed again-?"

All talk was silenced by a trumpeter. A handful of guards and six of the more influential n.o.bles of Frederick's court came out of the tent with the Emperor himself. Ash straightened up in the blazing heat. She saw the southern foreigner again - a military observer? - still blindfolded with translucent strips of cloth, but walking unerringly in Frederick's footsteps, precisely avoiding the guy-ropes of the pavilion.

"Captain Ash," the Emperor Frederick said.

She went down on one knee, carefully since she was in armour, in front of the older man.

"This sixteenth day of June, Year of Our Lord 1476,"10 the Emperor said, "it pleases me to raise you to some mark of distinction, for your valiant service in the field against our enemy, the n.o.ble Duke of Burgundy. Therefore I have bethought me much what would be fitting for a mercenary soldier in our employ."

"Money," a pragmatic voice said, behind Ash. She dared not look away from Frederick to glare Angelotti into silence.

The skin at the edges of Frederick's pale eyes crinkled. The little fair-haired man, now in blue and gold pleated robes, put his ringed hands together and gazed down at her.

"Not gold," Frederick said, "because I have none to spare. And not estates, because it would not be fitting to give them to a woman with no man to defend them for her."

Ash looked up in plain, utter amazement and forgot propriety. "Do I look like I need defending?"

She tried to swallow the words even as she was saying them. The dry voice overrode her: "Nor may I knight you, because you are a woman. But I will reward you with estates, albeit at second-hand. You shall marry, Ash. You shall marry my n.o.ble lord here - I promised his mother, who is my cousin in the fourth degree, that I would arrange a marriage for him. And now I do. This is your betrothed, the Lord Fernando del Guiz."

Ash looked where the Emperor indicated. There was no one there but the young knight in pied green-and-white hose, and fluted Gothic breastplate. The Emperor smiled encouragingly.

Her breath sucked in, involuntarily. What little she could see of the young man's face was utterly still, under his steel visor, and so white that she could see now that he had freckles across his cheekbones.

"Marry?" Ash stared, dazed. She heard herself say, "Him?"

"Does that please you, Captain?"

Sweet Christ! Ash thought. I am in the middle of the camp of His Grace the Holy Roman Emperor, Frederick III. The second most powerful ruler in Christendom. In open court. These are his most powerful subjects. They're all looking at me. I can't refuse. But marriage? I never even thought about marriage!

She was aware of the strap of her poleyn cutting into the back of her knee as she knelt; and jewelled, armoured, powerful men all looking at her. Her bare hands where they rested together on her thigh armour appeared rough, red stains under her nails. The pommel of her sword tapped against her breastplate. Only then did she realise that she was shaking; s.h.i.+t, girl! You forget. You really do forget that you're a woman. And they never do. And now it's yes or no.

She did the thing that put it all - fear, humiliation, dread - outside herself.

Ash raised her bowed head, looking fearlessly up; perfectly aware of the picture that she made. A young woman, bareheaded, her cheekbones slashed with the fine white lines of three old scars, her silver hair tumbling gloriously about her armoured shoulders and flowing like a cloak to her thighs.

"I can say nothing, Your Imperial Majesty. Such recognition, and such generosity, and such honour - they are beyond anything I had expected, and anything I could deserve."

"Rise." Frederick took her hand. She knew he must feel her palm sweat. There might have been an amused movement made by those thin lips. He held out his other hand commandingly, took the much fairer hand of the young man, and placed it over Ash's. "Now let no one gainsay this, they shall be man and wife!"

Deafened by tumultuous and sycophantic applause, and with warm, damp male fingers resting on hers, Ash looked back at her company officers.

What the f.u.c.k do I do now?

Chapter Two.Outside the window of the Imperial palace room in Cologne, rain poured in torrents from gutters and gargoyles to the cobblestones below. It battered loudly, irregular as arquebus11-fire, against the expensive gla.s.s windows. Biscuit-coloured stone finials gleamed with every break in the high cloud.

Inside the room, Ash faced her soon-to-be mother-in-law.

"This is - all - very - well-" Ash protested through a faceful of azure velvet. She shook herself free of it. "-but I have to get back to my company! I got escorted out of Neuss so fast yesterday, I haven't had a chance to talk to my officers yet!"

"You must have women's clothing for the bridal," Constanza del Guiz said sharply, stumbling over the last word.

"With respect, madam - I have upwards of eight hundred men and women under contract to me, back at Neuss. They're used to being paid! I have to go back and explain how this marriage is going to benefit them."

"Yes, yes . . ." Constanza del Guiz had fair hair and lazy good looks, but not her son's rangy build. She was tiny. A soft pink velvet gown fitted tightly around her small bosom, and then flared from her hips to drape voluminously to her satin slippers. She wore a red and silver brocade undergown. Rubies and emeralds ornamented both her padded headdress and the gold belt that hung down in a V from her hips. A purse and keys hung pendant from the belt-chain.

"My tailor can't work if you keep moving," Constanza pleaded. "Please, stand still."

The padded roll of Ash's headdress sat on her braided hair like a small but heavy animal.

"I can do this later. I have to go and sort the company out now!"

"Sweet child, how do you expect me to get a wedding arranged at a week's notice? I could kill Frederick!" Reproachful, Constanza del Guiz looked up at Ash with br.i.m.m.i.n.g blue eyes. Ash noted the Frederick. "And you don't help, child. First you want to get married in your armour ..."

Ash looked down at the tailor kneeling with pins and shears at her hem. "This is a robe, ain't it?"

"An underrobe. In your 'livery colours'." The old woman - fifty, perhaps - put her fingers to her shaking lips, on the verge of tears. "It's taken me all of today to persuade you out of doublet and hose!"

A knock sounded on the door. A square-built, bearded man was admitted by the serving women. Ash turned towards Father G.o.dfrey Maximillian and caught her foot in the sheer linen chemise that tangled her ankles, under her full-length silk kirtle. She stumbled. "f.u.c.k!"

The whole room - tailor, tailor's apprentice, two Cologne serving women, and her prospective new mother - stopped talking, and stared at her. Constanza del Quiz's face pinked.

Ash cringed, look a deep breath, and stared out of the window at the rain until someone should start talking again.

"Flat lux, my lady. Captain." Water streamed from G.o.dfrey Maximillian's woollen shoulder-caped hood. He pulled it off phlegmatically, and made the sign of the cross at the Green Man carved in fine stone tracery in the room's shrine. He beamed at the tailors and serving women, including them in his blessing. "Praise the Tree."

"G.o.dfrey," Ash acknowledged, "Did you bring Florian and Roberto with you?"

Anselm had been much in Italy, originally, in tandem with Antonio Angelotti; there were still old company members who did not use the English Robert. If she could name one of her officers she was most anxious to talk to now, it was him.

"I can't find Florian, anywhere. Robert's acting for the company while you're here."

And where have you been? I expected you eight hours ago, Ash thought grimly. Looking respectable. You could at least have cleaned the mud off! I'm trying to convince this woman I'm not a freak, and you turn up looking like a hedge priest!

G.o.dfrey must have read something of this on her face. He said to Constanza del Guiz, "Sorry to be so unkempt, my lady. I've been riding from Neuss. Captain Ash's men need her advice on several things, quite urgently."

"Oh." The old woman's surprise was frank and genuine. "Do they need her? I thought she was a figurehead for them. I would have imagined that a band of soldiers functions more smoothly when women are not there."

Ash opened her mouth and the younger serving woman whipped a light linen veil over her face.

G.o.dfrey Maximillian looked up from inadvertently shaking his muddy cloak over the tailor's bales of cloth. "Soldiers don't function with a figurehead in charge, my lady. Certainly they don't raise over a thousand men successfully for three years running, and have most of the German princ.i.p.alities bidding for their services."

The Imperial n.o.blewoman looked startled. "You don't mean she actually-"

"I command mercenaries," Ash interrupted, "and that's what I need to get back and do. We've never been paid with a marriage before. I know them. They won't like it. It ain't hard cash."

"Commands mercenaries," Constanza said, as if her mind were elsewhere, and then snapped a blue gaze back to Ash. Her soft mouth unexpectedly hardened. "What's Frederick thinking of? He promised me a good marriage for my son!"

"He promised me land," Ash said gloomily. "That's princes for you."

G.o.dfrey chuckled.

Constanza snapped, "There have been women who tried to command in battle. That uns.e.xed b.i.t.c.h Margaret of Anjou lost the throne of England for her poor husband. I could never let you do that to my son. You're rough, unmannered, and probably of peasant stock, but you're not wicked. I can school you to manners. You'll find people will soon forget your past when you're Fernando's wife, and my daughter."

"Bol- rubbis.h.!.+" Ash lifted her arms in response to the tailor's nudge. A blue velvet gown settled over her gold-embroidered underrobe, heavy on her shoulders.

One serving woman began to pull in the laces at the back of the tight bodice. The other draped the gown's gold brocade hanging sleeves to one side, and b.u.t.toned the undergown's tight-fitting sleeves from fur-trimmed cuff to elbow. The tailor fastened a belt low on Ash's hips.

"I've had fewer problems getting into armour," Ash muttered.

"Lady Ash will be a perfect credit to your son Fernando, I'm certain," G.o.dfrey said, straight-faced. "Proverbs, chapter fourteen, verse one: every wise woman buildeth her house, but the foolish pulleth it down with her hands."12 Something in his tone on the last words made Ash look at him sharply.

Constanza del Guiz looked up - and it really is up, Ash noted - at the priest. "One moment. Father, you say this girl owns a company of men."

"Under contract, yes."

"And is therefore wealthy?"

Ash snuffled back a laugh, wiping her sun-tanned wrist across her mouth. Her weather-beaten skin wasn't set off to advantage by silk sleeves and wolf-fur cuffs. She said cheerfully, "Wealthy if I could keep it! I have to pay those b.a.s.t.a.r.ds. Those men. Oh, s.h.i.+t. I'm no good at this!"

"I've known Ash since she was a child, my lady," G.o.dfrey said smartly, "and she's perfectly capable of adapting herself from camp to court."

Thanks. Ash gave her clerk a look of heavy irony. G.o.dfrey ignored it.

"But this is my only son-" Constanza put her thin fingers to her mouth. "Yes, Father. I'm sorry, I - faced with a wedding in less than a fortnight - and her origins - and no family-"

She dabbed at one eye with the corner of her veil. It was a calculated gesture, but then, as she looked at Ash struggling under the fitting of her headdress, a tension went out of her features. Constanza smiled quite sincerely.

"Neither of us expected this, but I think we can manage. Your men will be a welcome addition to my son's prestige. And you could be lovely, little one. Let me dress you properly and put on a little white lead to hide your blemishes. I would wish you to stand in front of the court as the pride of the del Guiz family, not the shame of it." Constanza's plucked brows furrowed. "Especially if Tante Jeanne comes here from Burgundy, which she might, even with the war between us. Femando's father's family always think they have a perfect right to come and criticise me. You'll meet them later."

"I won't." Ash shook her head. "I'm riding back to Neuss. Today."

"No! Not until I have you dressed and ready for this wedding."

"Now, look-" Ash planted her feet squarely apart under her voluminous, flowing skirts. She jammed her fists on her hips. The underrobe's close-fitting sleeves suddenly creaked at the shoulder-seams.

Tacking threads snapped.

The azure velvet gown slid up through her hanging belt and bunched at her waist. The sudden weighi of the purse pulled her belt skewed. Her heart-shaped honied headdress, with its padded roll and temple-pieces, slipped to one side and all but fell off.

Ash huffed a breath at the crooked wisp of linen veil that floated down into her eyes.

"Child . . ." Constanza's voice failed. "You look like a sack of grain tied with a string!"

"Well, let me wear my doublet and hose, then."

" You cannot get married in male dress.!"

Ash broke into an irrepressible grin. "Tell that to Fernando. I don't mind if he wants to wear the dress ..."

"Oh!"

G.o.dfrey Maximillian, studying his captain, folded his hands across his robed belly and rather unwisely said aloud what he was thinking. "I never realised. You look short, in a dress."

"I'm taller on the G.o.dd.a.m.n battlefield! Right, that's it." Ash wrenched the horned head-dress and veils off her head, wincing as the pins pulled out of her hair. She ignored the tailor's protests.

"You can't go now!" Constanza del Guiz pleaded.

"Watch me!" Ash strode across the room, the full skirt of her gown flapping about her slippered feet. She picked up G.o.dfrey's wet cloak and slung it around her shoulders. "We're out of here. G.o.dfrey, do we have more than one company horse here?"

"No. Just my palfrey."

"Tough. You can ride pillion behind me. Lady Constanza, I'm sorry - truly." Ash hesitated. She gave the tiny woman a rea.s.suring smile that, she was startled to find, she meant. "Truly. I have to see to my men. I'll be back. I'll have to be. Since it's the Emperor Frederick's gift, I can't very well not marry your son Fernando!"

There was some debate at Cologne's north-west gate: a lady, with her head uncovered, riding unaccompanied except for a priest? Ash gave them a few coins and the benefit of a soldier's vocabulary, and was put out to have the gate guards then pa.s.s her through as a wh.o.r.e accompanied by her pimp.

"Are you going to tell me what's bothering you?" she said over her shoulder to G.o.dfrey, an hour later.

"No. Not unless it becomes necessary."

Rain made the roads into two days' journey, not one. Ash seethed. Deep cart-ruts full of mud tired the horse, until she gave up and bought another at a farm where they stayed, and then she and G.o.dfrey rode on through the downpour, until they smelled the downwind stink of an established camp, and knew they must be near Neuss.