Read Tom Swan and the Head of St George Part One: Castillon for Free Online Page A

roll and the sack he’d filled with purses. He used it as a pillow, but before he could get to sleep, he heard horses, and then he was summoned by Alessandro.
    The Italian dusted the leaf mould off his back. ‘You killed four of them?’ he asked quietly.
    Swan met his eye. ‘Yes.’
    Alessandro whistled. ‘You weren’t going to mention it?’ he asked.
    Swan shrugged.
    ‘And you robbed them?’ Alessandro asked.
    Swan realised he hadn’t thought this through. ‘They were dead.’
    Alessandro nodded. ‘I don’t mind. But the French think that someone else killed them and took their money. How do you want to play this?’
    Swan looked at the Italian. Even through a haze of sleep, he could tell that he was worried, and further, was not telling him something.
    ‘Let them think that,’ Swan said.
    Alessandro shook his head. ‘If I do, my master must travel slowly for days. If I say you did it, the French have no reason to go slowly, because all the brigands are dead.’ He waved. ‘Come.’
    Swan followed him unwillingly, but consoled himself that he still had the sword.
    They walked to a different fire, where the French soldiers were gathered. Alessandro was well known here – they handed him wine.
    ‘This is your fearsome Englishman?’ asked the count.
    Swan bowed.
    ‘Did you kill four armed brigands by yourself, boy? Why didn’t you tell me when we rode up to you?’ The big knight took a step towards him.
    Swan looked at the ground. ‘I . . . killed them, yes. I wasn’t thinking so well, after.’
    The knight winced, but he did not sneer. ‘This I believe. Did you take their purses?’
    Swan shrugged. ‘I’m not sure why—’ he said.
    The count nodded. ‘It this your first time in battle?’ he asked.
    ‘Second,’ Swan admitted.
    ‘Mm,’ said the count. ‘So – this one to you, Messire Alessandro. We have no more brigands – that we know of. But I will beg you to ride with us another day or so.’
    Alessandro shrugged wearily. ‘If you insist.’ He bowed, and the two of them walked back towards Swan’s sleeping roll.
    ‘Did you see anything? When you fought the brigands?’ Alessandro asked. ‘I am phrasing this badly. Did something . . . alert you?’
    Swan stretched. ‘A dead man. If that’s what you mean. We saw the wagon, and it looked as if it had broken down, and then I saw . . . a body. In the bushes. I knew—’ He shrugged. ‘It felt like a trap.’
    Alessandro put a hand on his shoulder. ‘This I must ask. Did you open the wagon?’
    Swan looked at the ground. ‘No.’
    Alessandro said, ‘I’m not trying to insult you, Englishman. But something doesn’t add up.’
    Swan met his eye in the dark. ‘I took their purses. You know I have no money. It is within the laws of war.’
    Alessandro laughed. ‘Laws of war. Messire Swan, for the first time I think perhaps you are a young gentleman.’ He looked into the darkness. ‘It was one of my men on that wagon. And he is dead.’
    Swan nodded. ‘But – he wore the blue and red. I saw him – Cesare says it is the Paris livery.’ He paused. ‘I’m sorry.’
    Alessandro frowned. ‘You notice a great deal, Englishman. Yes – I dressed him as a Parisian. I hoped to . . . learn something .’
    Swan scratched under his beard. ‘You distrust the count?’ he said.
    ‘Yes. Well. We’ll see. I do not suspect you. I merely wish you had seen more.’ He paused, fingering his dagger. ‘Why do you ask if I distrust the count?’
    Swan looked around carefully. ‘He pretends poverty.’
    Alessandro’s eyes narrowed. ‘He lost his patrimony in the king’s wars, or so he says.’
    ‘His sword is worth five hundred florins. His shoes are as good as the shoes the King of England wears.’ Swan shrugged.
    Alessandro nodded. ‘You see a great deal. I missed the sword. But yes – I’ll give you this much. There is something not quite right about Messire the Count.’ He waved. They had arrived at Peter’s fire. ‘Go to