Adventure of Robert de Fiennes 1

The column reaches the friendly houses at first light, horses steaming beneath the hedges. Étienne, the blue-surcoated rider, and the young scout accompany Robert, while the weary men follow close behind.

Agnès de Marle, a middle-aged woman of sturdy build, bursts from a stable in a mud-streaked russet dress and dark wool cloak. Her gray-streaked hair is uncovered, and one cheek bears a fresh scratch.

She thrusts forward a torn French pennon, its edge dark with mud. The cloth bears the colors of a captured scout’s company, not the houses’ own mark.

Robert turns toward the blue-surcoated rider and Étienne. For one breath his command catches in his throat, and both men notice the hesitation before discipline restores his voice.

The rider gathers the weary soldiers and assigns them in pairs. They spread through the friendly houses, checking gates, stable straw, abandoned fires, and footprints without disturbing the families.

A pair returns from the nearest byre and signals the rider. He looks toward Robert, while Étienne turns from the stable, ready to summon him if the search yields anything.

Robert leaves the stable yard alone and searches the surrounding gardens, lanes, and sheds, studying churned earth, broken stems, and scraps caught on thorn branches.

Near a garden gate, he finds a heel-mark beside a snapped hazel switch. The track appears recent, yet rain has softened its edges beyond reliable reading.

He follows the marks around the byre and discovers three separate trails mingling at the dung heap: villagers, soldiers, and an animal dragged through the mud.

Robert reaches the rear garden, where a torn thread of dark wool clings to a thorn. Its weave matches no certain garment among the searched houses, and the trail ends at a trampled cart path.

The blue-surcoated rider passes the order through the lanes. Saddles are tightened and bridles lifted, but the weary column gathers unevenly, men looking toward separate roads and households.

Agnès steps from the stable, gripping her torn pennon. Her household keeps back two horses, and the delay leaves the column unable to depart as one body.

The men remain mounted beneath the hedges, divided but ready. The priory offers a concrete lead, though Robert’s column cannot yet move as a single company.

The order carries through the hedged lanes. Men who had lingered at separate houses tighten girths, mount, and turn their horses toward the east fields.

Agnès de Marle lowers the torn pennon and points beyond the orchards. The column gathers into a moving file, households yielding the horses they can spare.

Robert leads them east beneath a paling sky. Hooves strike the damp road in a steady rhythm, and the scattered survivors follow as one company.

Beyond the fields, the priory’s weathered bell tower rises above bare trees. Refugees’ smoke curls nearby, marking the destination ahead.

Robert urges the bay ahead of the file, eager to reach the priory first. The horse lengthens its stride over the wet eastern road as the column falls behind.

At the rise, a hidden rut catches the bay’s foreleg. The horse lurches sideways, forcing Robert to check the reins sharply and abandon the open road before both are thrown.

The bay regains its footing, but the sudden turn carries Robert into a narrow grass lane beside an old stone boundary. The priory tower vanishes behind the rise.

The column slows behind him, no longer able to follow at speed through the rutted road. Robert remains mounted and separated by several lengths, while Étienne points toward the quieter lane.

Robert brings the bay onto firmer grass beside the stone boundary. Behind him, the blue-surcoated rider directs the men to secure their horses under the hedges, away from the marshy lane.

A young adult squire with a slight build, freckled face, and russet wool cap steps forward from the file. Robert dismounts carefully and places the bay’s reins in his waiting hand.

Robert’s boot finds the wet ground securely, but the stirrup leather twists beneath his hand and scrapes his palm, leaving a bright raw line across the skin.

The blue-surcoated rider and the young scout help the others dismount. Saddles are checked, reins tied short, and the horses gathered beneath the trees while the men form on foot.

Robert moves ahead on foot, leading the column into the narrow lane. The priory orchard remains hidden beyond the bend, but every man now follows together.

Robert leads the column along the grass lane, keeping close to the old stone boundary and using the orchard’s bare branches to break the sightline from the priory.

He advances by measured steps, pausing whenever wind stirs the hedges. Behind him, the men follow in silence, their boots placed carefully on firmer ground.

At the bend, Robert lowers himself beneath a leaning hawthorn and slips forward. A thorn tears through his glove, scoring two fingers, but he keeps moving without sound.

The lane delivers him to the eastern edge of the priory orchard. Through the leafless trees, the weathered buildings and refugee smoke stand plainly ahead, while the road remains unseen.

The company gathers behind Robert inside the orchard’s cover. Horses remain back beneath the hedges, and the French survivors now stand concealed at the priory’s eastern approach.

Robert raises one hand and sweeps it forward. The concealed company responds at once, advancing through the bare orchard in disciplined silence, boots finding firm ground between the roots.

He leads them beneath the eastern trees, pausing only to study the priory doors, windows, and drifting smoke. No movement marks the road or the surrounding fields.

The men pass from orchard cover to the priory yard without alarm. Behind them, the horses remain secured under the hedges while the full company gathers at the weathered buildings.

Robert’s cautious advance brings the column safely to the priory. Dusty survivors, a mixed group of adult men and women with dusty faces, worn earth-toned clothing, and gaunt builds, turn toward the arriving Frenchmen, while the old bell tower rises above them beneath the pale morning sky.

Secure shelter for the remnant