The Run-Up to Christmas
At this point in ‘Warrior Princess, Errant Page,’ Anglo-Saxon Princess Emma has been sent to eastern Bohemia, so she and her future (and younger) husband can get to know each other. Things, as we find out in this chapter, clearly have not gone to plan.
The Christmas season that year could hardly be described as normal. Firstly, there was Emma’s flight from Stara Boleslav—the city that was Duke Boleslav’s centre of power in the east of Bohemia. She, and the rest of her Anglo-Saxons, galloped up to Prague Castle gates just after dark, five days before the festivities. Blanik had to rush to the gates, order them to be opened, get word to Wenceslas, and close the gates before the second, pursuing party galloped up the hill.
Geraint, in full battle mode, had his troops dismounted and forming a shield wall inside the gate before Wenceslas and Podevin dashed to the courtyard. Blanik, catching the mood, was ordering his guards to the walls, ready to repel attackers. The second party stopped in front of the now shut and barred gates. There was silence. Emma, who appeared to be wearing hunting attire, dismounted and approached Wenceslas. She curtseyed but, before she could speak, there was a hammering on the gates.
‘Open up! Open in the name of Boleslav, Duke of Bohemia, whose servant you are sheltering against the laws of the land. Open up and deliver those you are sheltering as our prisoners.’
‘Servant? He thinks I’m his servant.’ Emma was back upright.
‘Go up there, Podevin,’ said Wenceslas, pointing to the passageway at the top of the gates, ‘and parley with them. And no, Blanik, you are not to give the Princess Emma a battle axe, nor even a sword.’
Podevin saw Blanik shrug an apology towards Emma, who had been in the act of appropriating a weapon from one of the guards. It seemed, this time, history was not to repeat itself. He mounted the steps to the wall, feeling very exposed until he realised Blanik had sent two crossbow archers with him. Podevin moved into a gap lit by torchlight. He could be seen, but anyone outside could see that, either side of him, were men ready with crossbow bolts.
‘Most unfriendly, my lord,’ called the voice from below. ‘We have raised no weapons against you.’
‘I will stand these men down when I can see you dismounted and without your weapons. You and your men.’
The other man’s features were masked by the night, so Podevin could not tell how his demand was taken. He could only wait for action. It was a long enough wait. He could hear there was a conversation going on behind him between Emma and Wenceslas; Emma furious, Wenceslas placatory. As if trying to keep the peace between the Anglo-Saxons and his brother’s forces was a matter of words. Podevin’s attention was drawn back to the men outside the gates. They had dismounted and were removing their sword belts. He nodded at the men, who put up their weapons.
‘Don’t go too far,’ he said. ‘I might need you yet.’
‘So,’ said the voice from outside the gate, ‘may we enter and claim our prisoner?’
Podevin was about to refuse or, at the minimum, demand an explanation, when Wenceslas called up, ‘Let them in.’
It was his command voice, and loud enough for it to be heard on the other side of the gate. The leader, if that was who he was, had already started to re-buckle his sword belt and was preparing to mount his horse.
‘If you want to enter, you will enter one at a time. You will lead your horses. And you will be disarmed as soon as you have entered.’
Podevin projected his voice into the distance, where the rest of the party was but shadows. Then he turned to face Wenceslas’s glare. A glare that resolved into a resigned nod as both Emma and Blanik clearly approved of Podevin’s strategy.
There were twenty of them. All knights and all well-armed. Just opening the gate to that lot, would have been inviting a bloodbath, had they come charging in, determined to carry off Emma.