Trinity by Conn Iggulden Read Free Book Online Page B

the earl knew very well. Rankin’s hand was steady as he shaved away the bristles from Salisbury’s throat. Around master and servant, Neville men-at-arms nudged each other and grinned, making their own quiet bets amongst themselves as they packed up their camp and made ready to march north.
    Alice, Countess Salisbury, emerged from the tent without her shoes on, grasping the turf with bare feet and breathing deeply of the morning air. She saw her husband was being shaved and decided against calling out. She knew Rankin treasured the coins he won far more than his usual salary. For a long moment, Alice stood and watched her husband with visible affection, pleased that he remained so strong and hale despite his years. His fifty-fifth birthday was coming in just a few months, she reminded herself, already thinking of what gift she might have made for him.
    Running footsteps made some of the men turn from the scene, though Rankin continued to smooth and scrape, concentrating on his task and its reward. Salisbury looked up slowly and carefully to see one of the young boys who’d accompanied the wedding party. He had a vague memory of the lad from the night before, sucking deeply on a wineskin before being violently sick, to the amusement of the men.
    ‘My lord!’ the boy called as he ran in and skidded to a stop. His eyes were wide at the sight of a man being shaved in a field.
    ‘What is it?’ Salisbury said calmly, stretching his chin out to give Rankin a clear line for his razor.
    ‘Men coming, my lord. Soldiers and bowmen, all running along here.’
    Salisbury jerked and then swore as the razor bit his cheek. He stood up abruptly, grabbing the cloth from his neck to wipe the oil and the smear of blood from his face.
    ‘Mount up!’ Salisbury roared at the startled men around him.
    They darted away, sprinting for their horses and weapons.
    ‘My horse, here! Rankin, you clumsy sod, you’ve cut me. Horse! Alice! God’s bones, will you put your shoes on!’
    The drowsy tableau broke apart as men ran in all directions, stumbling and shouting for the captains who commanded them. By the time Salisbury had mounted, there were ranks of horsemen between their master and whoever approached. Those with the sharpest eyes called out ‘Archers!’ over and over, so that shields were thrown up to the horsemen and the Neville bowmen ran forward, stringing their own weapons as they went.
    ‘My lord, your armour!’ Rankin said. The man had grabbed an armful of metal, one arm through a circular gorget, hanging half-open on its hinge. He ran beside the stirrup as the earl trotted his horse forward. The stewards who would have dressed their lord were nowhere to be seen. Rankin handed up a long sword and almost vanished under the hooves as he stumbled.
    ‘No time, Rankin. That gorget though, I’ll take that. And fetch me a shield, would you? There’s one hanging there, on that tree, can you see it?’ He reached out as Rankin tossed the collar up to him, snatching it out of the air and snapping it shut around his throat. Ahead, a hundred and fifty foot soldiers and sixty archers waited patiently for him to join them. Salisbury looked behind him to see that his wife and son had been found horses. The new bride was there as well, her hands twisting whitely before her. An expression of worry came over the earl’s face at the sight of that vulnerable little group. He turned back and his son looked up at the sound of hooves.
    ‘What is it, sir? Who’s coming?’
    ‘I don’t know yet,’ Salisbury said. ‘I’ll just have to leave a couple alive to ask them, won’t I? Your task is to get your mother and Maud to safety. This is not your concern, John, not today.’ He did not say aloud that if the young couple were killed, there was a chance those valuable dowry manors could revert to Lord Cromwell or even fall into Percy hands once again, exactly the sort of dispute that kept the judges of the King’s Bench busy for months or