After one hour had passed, Sir Hugh and two knights rode to the gate under a white flag. Sir Hugh asked if we intended to yield. I replied that we did not. Without a word, he turned his horse, and the minute he reached his forward lines, they charged the fortress.
The scaling ladders were in the first wave. Robard had positioned the crossbowmen brilliantly. He broke them into two lines of twenty. The first line fired when the assailants were in range, then stepped back, replaced by the next line, who waited a few seconds and fired another volley while the first line reloaded their bows. It takes nearly a minute for even the most experienced soldier to cock and ready a crossbow, but by concentrating their fire on those carrying the ladders, he slowed their advance. Still, we were vastly outnumbered, and with only forty men shooting, our attackers would eventually gain a foothold on the walls.
Maryam, Celia and Martine led the rest of the villagers on the battlements. Martine and Celia held their swords now, and they ran about, tipping back scaling ladders and shouting encouragement here and there. Maryam wielded a pitchfork as deftly as if it were one of her daggers, pushing back ladder after ladder.
We managed to hold off the first wave, but our men tired, and the time between volleys from the crossbows became longer and longer. Robard kept encouraging them in his own special way.
“Come on, you bloody Franks!” he shouted. “Faster! Faster!” I made a mental note to remind Robard later how he might consider improving his motivational skills.
Robard methodically worked his way through the first bundle of small hunting arrows, shooting quickly but making each missile count. He moved like a dancer among the men at the walls, dodging and darting and seeking out the perfect position for every shot.
While all this happened, I stood below in the courtyard with my “plan,” as it were. It was simple, really. I’d constructed three miniature siege engines of my own. Two of Celia’s villagers who were handy with tools helped me peg them together from timbers we’d removed from the interior of the castle keep. They weren’t fancy, and not likely to be highly accurate, but I didn’t need accuracy, only power, for I intended to rain my own version of vengeance down on Sir Hugh.
Each siege engine was primarily a twelve-foot plank mounted on a triangular base and pulled backward by a rope attached to its end. As it bent backward, nearly to the breaking point, the rope was released and the plank shot upward. Each was capable of hurling an object placed on the end of it quite a distance. I had tested one off the back wall of the fortress, out of sight of our attackers, to get a sense of its power. I pried a sizable stone loose from the keep wall and managed to hurl it about sixty yards or so. Perfect.
Now I stood just below the main battlement, in the courtyard behind the gate, waiting for a signal from Robard. With Celia’s help, I’d taken several barrels of lard from the kitchen stores. Next to the siege engines, which were spaced below the southwest wall, the lard melted in iron kettles over a fire. We’d taken several earthen jugs, covered them with tinder from the fireboxes and wrapped them with burlap, which we also soaked in the melted fat. Now came the test.
When the next wave of scaling ladders came surging forward, I would release my missiles when they were about fifty yards from the wall. I could hear a yell come up from the lines outside and knew they were on the way. I waited, eager to hear the signal.
“Tristan! Now!” Robard shouted from above.
Each of us manning one of the devices emptied the melted lard into a jug until it was full, and replaced the stopper. It was quickly loaded upon the end of the plank. Then a torch was set to the burlap covering, setting the jug on fire. When the flames burned steadily, two more men pulled back on the rope attached to the planks’ end and the boards bent backward.
“Loose!” I shouted and they released the ropes. The boards sprang forward and the flaming jugs flew through the air, clearing the wall by a good ten feet. I only wished I could see what happened next, but I was forced to rely on Robard’s report.
He later told me that when the jugs hit the rocky ground outside the fortress walls, they shattered, and the flames came into contact with the melted grease inside. The flaming lard flew in every direction, and with the first shots we managed to set the clothing of dozens of our attackers on fire. I heard screams and horses whinnying, but by then we already had the second round of jugs loaded and ready to fly. I would have only a few minutes before the soldiers recovered and spread out from each other enough to limit the missiles’ effects.
“Loose!” The jugs flew, and again I could hear the screams as we found more targets.
We let several more go before Robard signaled us from the battlement. “Hold, Tristan, they’re pulling back!”
A cheer went up from the people inside Montsegur, and I raced up the ladder to gaze out at the field. Sir Hugh’s forces had retreated out of range of the crossbows, and the ground below us was littered with the dead and wounded. Some small pockets of lard still smoldered, and the smoke wafted over the ground.
“Is anyone hurt?” Celia shouted to her people. We had been lucky. We had one man dead at the hand of an attacker who managed to make it over the wall, but Maryam had run him through with her pitchfork. There were a few other villagers with minor wounds, but we had inflicted some serious damage on Sir Hugh’s men. Across the field the soldiers milled about, confused and disorganized. Knights, especially Templars, are trained to think victory will easily be theirs. They had found Montsegur a much more difficult fruit to pluck.
“Well done, Tristan,” Robard said, joining me at the wall. “You gave them something to think about, the jackasses!”
“Yes, I suppose we did,” I said. “You did some fancy shooting yourself.”
Robard nodded. Maryam and Celia joined us on the battlement, and the four of us peered out at the assembled troops where they had retreated near the tree line.
“What do you think they will do next?” Celia asked.
“I’m not sure,” I said, looking across the battlement at Jean-Luc, who would one day make a very capable commander, tending to his injured men and making sure they were resupplied with bolts, food and water. “I think it will be some time until they try another attack. They got more than they bargained for. Sir Hugh is not stupid. He’ll come up with something. He will not retreat. Either he will gather more forces, or wait until he starves us out,” I said. Something pushed at my leg, and I looked down to find Angel sniffing about. I scratched her ears and she yawned. What would happen to her, I wondered, if Sir Hugh captured the castle?
We had won the first round with a little trickery and the overconfidence of our enemy. They would not be so easily surprised the next time. Celia’s faith in her people was palpable, but they could not hold out forever. I had to do something to give them a better chance of survival.
“I know that look!” Robard said as he studied my face. “You have another one of your plans?”
“In fact I do,” I said. “We’re leaving.”
“Leaving? How?” Celia asked with a fair measure of alarm in her face.
“Yes, Templar, how?” Maryam joined in. “You won’t be able to get past Sir Hugh or his men. If you were lucky, you might outrace them to the trees and slip away in the forest, but his men will ride you down. The only other way is climbing down the cliffs, and you can’t possibly. .” Maryam stopped when she saw the look on my face.
“No. You can’t be serious. Do you think. . No.” She couldn’t get the words out. “Robard, tell him. Tell him he can’t do what he’s thinking.”
“I’d be happy to, but I have no idea what he’s thinking,” Robard replied, confused.
“He wants to climb down the cliffs,” Celia said. “And he’s a fool, for it can’t be done.”
“Celia, you don’t understand. He won’t give up. He will stay here until you surrender or he will gather enough regimentos to overwhelm you. You have your people to think about. I have to go. It’s the only way.” I tried to make her understand. I had no desire to leave, just when I had found her again. But I could not let her or her people suffer further on my account.
“Tristan, they might be right,” Robard cut in. “If you want to leave, fine, but wouldn’t it be better to try slipping through the woods at nightfall?”
“I’ve thought of that. It’s too risky. Sir Hugh will have his men covering the woods around the clock. We have no horses, and we’re no match on foot against well-mounted Templars, even in a thick forest.”
“I’d rather take my chances against the knights than fall to my death,” Robard said with a shiver.
“I don’t expect any of you to join me. You can stay here. When Sir Hugh finds out I’m gone, he’ll leave to come after me. You’ll be safe,” I promised.
Robard and Maryam looked at each other. Then at me.
“What?” I asked.
“Why are you doing this, Tristan? Why are you risking your life like this?” Maryam demanded. Robard nodded in agreement.
I decided they needed to know. Despite what Sir Thomas had told me, they deserved the truth. They were not power-mad Templars or treasure seekers or wanting to control the world. They were born to simple lives. Now they were warriors who wanted nothing more than to return to their homes, but they had given up much to help me. Both of them had saved my life numerous times. And Celia as well. They were my friends.
“I will tell you everything. . I promise-” I was interrupted by a shout from Jean-Luc. Sir Hugh was riding back toward the fortress, holding a white flag aloft.
My confession would have to wait.