Denise’s eyes met his.
“I am not afraid, sire,” she answered.
The Earl still shirked accepting a possible sacrifice. Marpasse put in a final word.
“Though it be to my shame, lord,” she said, “I have learnt how to tread among thorns. There is only one thing that I would ask, and that is the right to choose the man who shall take us within two miles of Lewes town.”
She flashed a look at Denise as though to silence her, and went close to De Montfort’s horse. A smile came over his face as he listened to Marpasse, and there was sadness in the smile, and the quiet compassion of a man who had held children in his arms.
“God guard you both,” he said, “it shall be as you desire.”
Aymery had command of the guard that evening at the manor house where Simon, the Earl of Gloucester, and the great lords had their quarters. Word was brought him by an esquire of De Montfort’s son Guy, that the Earl was calling for him, and that Simon was to be found in the great barn where the Bishop of Worcester was to preach to the lords and gentlemen before sundown. Aymery found the Earl sitting on a barrow that stood on the threshing floor, a knot of knights standing behind him, and the evening sunlight that poured in striking silver burs from their battle harness.
Simon looked straight into Aymery’s eyes as he gave him his orders.
“Go down to the yew tree near the pond where we water our horses, messire. You will find two women waiting there. They have sworn to spy out the land for us. Take a guide and ten spears, and see the women as near to Lewes as you can without breaking cover.”
Earl Simon always eyed his men as though he were looking into the brain behind the eyes. Aymery saluted, and turned to obey. His face betrayed no surprise, though it was a new thing for De Montfort to rely on the wits of two women.