really is King Richard. He is saying that our army is commanded by an imposter, some jumped-up knight pretending to be Richard!’
Robin snorted. ‘That’s a good one – the King is an imposter! And the idea of Ralph Murdac being devoted to anyone is quite amusing, too. That little hunchbacked rat has nowhere else to go, and he knows it, so he’s dressing it up as knightly loyalty. But that’s all by the by. I take it that there is no chance of a nice peaceful surrender, then?’
‘None – while Murdac remains Constable,’ said William. ‘We must take the castle by force. It will have to be done the hard way, the old-fashioned way.’
‘Maybe – but then again, maybe not,’ said Robin, musingly. ‘Will you excuse us, Marshal? I need to speak to young Alan on a private matter.’
And, hobbling slightly from his javelin wound, he pulled me aside and began to whisper quietly into my ear.
By rights, I should not have spoken out at the King’s Council. Although I believed Richard was fond of me, I was a nobody, a mere captain of men, a youth, not yet twenty years old, of no family to speak of, and with only one small manor to my undistinguished name. But I did speak, and it changed my life. And, as it was his idea, I have Robin to thank for the results.
The meeting began with the King addressing the assembled barons and bishops, offering a brief word of thanks to the Marshal, the Earl of Locksley, Earl Ferrers and several of the other knights there for their actions that day. Then he moved on to give a résumé of what the heralds had reported: namely, that the castle still defied us, and would continue to do so under the command of its present Constable. The King did not mention that Murdac considered him to be a jumped-up imposter. Rightly so: even royalty must safeguard its dignity.
‘So, gentlemen,’ said the King, ‘what we need to do is bring those big walls down. I will teach Sir Ralph Murdac to defy me, by God’s legs I will! I have given orders to my artificers to build a couple of siege engines by morning, a powerful mangonel and a good-sized trebuchet, and over the next few weeks I plan to reduce the east wall of the middle bailey to rubble. I took Acre, and that was considered an impossible task, and I can damned well take Nottingham. But I’m afraid, gentlemen, it will take some time …’
‘Sire,’ I said. I still find it hard to believe that I had the courage to interrupt my King in mid-flow, and I would not have done so were it not for Robin’s insistent elbow nudging my ribs, but I did. And this is what happened.
At first the King did not notice me. ‘We need to bottle them in securely,’ he was saying. ‘I want no food, water or provisions, and particularly no men or information going in or out of the castle. You, my lord of Chester, will take the southern section, by the cliffs …’
‘Sire,’ I said again, and this time the King noticed me.
He looked slightly annoyed to be interrupted, and I suddenly wondered if I was making a huge mistake.
‘What is it, Blondel?’ the King said, coldly.
‘Sire,’ I said for the third time. And my tongue shrivelled in my mouth.
‘Yes?’ The King was definitely getting testy. ‘Now that you have interrupted me, Alan, speak if you have a mind to.’
I finally managed to get my words out: ‘What if we were to, ah, get rid of Murdac? What if we were to – well, ah, kill him, or remove him from command of the castle in some way? Wouldn’t that change things for us?’ As I said it, I knew it sounded absurd, the sort of thing a silly child might say, and I could feel my cheeks redden as some of the most powerful barons in England stared at me, astonished at my impudence.
The King looked at me for a long, long moment, and for an instant I believed that he would order the guards to drag me away from the tent and have me hanged, drawn and quartered.
‘And how would you accomplish this?’ the King asked, frowning.
‘I know of an old servants’ entrance into the castle, sire. It is forgotten; I believe it remains a secret known only to a very few. It leads from a tavern below the southern wall of