Best to move swiftly.
He whistled. The hounds loped toward him, and once they moved the folk scattered back, fearing those teeth. He grabbed the little boy and hoisted him up and over his back, and with Sorrow and Rage at either side strode into the forest. All the way through the woodland he heard them shadowing him to either side, waiting for an opening, but none came; the hounds were vigilant.
The child said, “Dog. Dog.”
He reeked, the poor thing, and as they came out of the woods and to the open fields striping the land around the distant walls, he peed. Warm liquid trickled down Alain’s side. There wasn’t much urine in the child, but the scent of it stung. Rage barked, swinging his head around to sniff Alain’s hip.
Out here farmers ploughed, although it was late in the season for such work. A pair of soldiers patrolled on horseback. They cantered over, looking him up and down while circling clear of the hounds. The younger was a freckled lad about sixteen and with a tentative grip on his spear. His companion looked tougher, twice his age, with darker hair and a scaly patch of skin on one cheek that had been scratched until it bled.
“Who are you?” the elder asked. “What’s your business in Autun?” He indicated the child with the blade of his spear. “Beggars not allowed in Autun. Go elsewhere.”
“I found this child abandoned in the woods. Has the biscop no foundling home? Is there no monastery nearby that takes in orphans?”
“I don’t know,” said the man, “but not likely, I’d say. Haven’t grain enough to feed the lady’s household and her army. Certain there isn’t spare for a dirty crippled brat like that one. See you there, Jochim,” he said to the lad, “see his twisted legs.”
“He’s crippled,” said the lad brightly.
“So he is, but was he born with the twisted legs? Or did his mam or uncle gave it a twist so as folk would pity him and give bread and coin?”
“Nay.” The lad shook his head. “Nay, no mam would do that. Would she?”
“Some might. Or a handsome uncle, like this one who carries him. Look at his decent clothes, who leaves a babe wrapped in only a bit of torn cloth. He found a babe forgot in the woods? I know what lurks in the woods. All those driven out of town by my lady’s order. Thieves and whores and murderers. Nay, fellow.” He lowered his spear to block the path. In the distance a pair of farmers looked their way. “We want none of your kind in our town.”
“His cloak is shorn off,” said the lad. “See? That’s what the babe is wearing. Why would he tear his own cloak, if it’s true he cares nothing for the babe but only his own comfort? He could buy a rag from a peddler for nothing and save the cloak.”
“Dog,” said the child.
“Unless he were kicked out of town and the babe’s rag lost in the wood.”
Alain sighed. “I’m no beggar. If you’ll tell me where I can find a foundling home, I’ll take this child there.”
They shrugged. The youth seemed eager to depart. The elder lingered. “Don’t matter whether I believe you or think you’re lying. You can’t enter the city with that begging child. Everyone can see he’s a beggar’s child. No entrance.”
“Are there no poor sitting in the lady’s hall, fed by her stewards?” asked Alain. “Can it be she has forgotten the ancient custom? Did not King Henry feed a dozen beggars every day off his very own table?”
The elder spat. “Get on. Speak not of Henry, the usurper. Well! He’s gone now. Some say he’s dead.”
“Did he so?” asked the youth. “A dozen beggars, every day?”
“Or more, on feast days,” said Alain, standing his ground.
“How do you know?” demanded the elder. “How could a man such as you know? How could you have stood in the hall where noble folk took their supper?”
“I was a Lion, once.” And more besides, but he would not speak of those days to this man.
“A Lion!” The youth whistled appreciatively, with a look of respect. “A Lion! They take some tough fighting, it’s said. Duke Conrad takes in any Lions that come this way. Strays, like.”
The gaze of the older soldier had shifted in an intangible way. “Were you now? Seen any fighting? Ever kill a man?”
Weary, Alain met his gaze. “I have seen fighting. I killed a man.” One who was already dying.
“Huh. I believe you. Huh.” He glanced toward the town walls where twin banners curled limply at the height of the tower, concealing their sigils. The clouds moved sluggishly overhead, although it often seemed to Alain that they did not move at all, not anymore. “The lady needs soldiers. There’s a bed and a meal every day if you join up with her. Interested?”
