Here Be Dragons - 1 by Sharon Penman (best inspirational books txt) 📕

more and more carts became bogged, men and horses began to panic, and the sight meeting John's horrified eyes was one of utter and complete chaosRescue was beyond mortal men, the tide was already sweeping in from the northJohn could not see it yet, but he heard it, a low, relentless rumble, getting louder "Cut the traces'" he shouted "Free the horses'"John Marshal was beside him now, gesturing "We've got to turn back' Or we'll drown, too'"Some of the men had heard John's shouts, were slashing at the harness tracesMost had abandoned the wagons by now, were floundering in the river John gave one despairing backward glance and then swung his mount about, followed afterJohn Marshal as they raced the We for shoreTheir horses were battlefield destriers, bred for stamina, but theyWere capable of great speed in short bursts, and they were within yards j>f safety when Peter des Roches's stallion splashed into quicksand The°rse Arched to its knees, scrambled desperately to free itself as its rider n8 helplessly to the saddle pommel Des Roches had enough pres-e of mind, however, to wave John away when he saw the other man m;ng back "No, John, no' Go on'" Jump dear and I'll pick you up'" "our horse cannot carry us both'"John Marshal had also wheeled his mount about "Go back, sire' I'll V I swear'"

492r493But by then it was too late; the tide was upon them. John had time only to turn his horse so the water did not strike them sideways. As he was swept downstream, he caught a last glimpse of Peter des Roches The force of the surging waters had freed the stallion, only to engulf both horse and rider.John saw Peter's head break the surface, but the current was too swift to fight. His stallion was swimming strongly now striking out for the embankment;he could do nothing but give the horse its head.John's stallion came ashore several miles south of Long Sutton. As he slid from the saddle, John found himself alone in a vast, empty marshland. The ground squished under his boots, his footprints filling with water. He shouted, in vain. Even the swamp birds were suddenly stilled. After a time, he heard a cry, saw a man struggling toward shore. Wading back into the shallows, he helped the man scramble up the embankment. Then they both slumped down upon the muddy ground, too exhausted even for speech. Out in the river, men and horses were drowning, but their death cries were muffled by the tide, muted by the rising wind. An unearthly silence blanketed the Fens.John Marshal was the first to find them, followed by some of the villagers.John accepted the mantles they offered without comment, ignored their pleas that he come back with them to Long Sutton. But within the quarter hour he sawPeter des Roches limping slowly along the embankment. The elegant Bishop ofWinchester was covered with fetid swamp mud and slime; even his hair was matted with it. But he was alive and smiling, and he and John embraced like brothers."The Almighty never showed me greater favor, John. I grabbed my horse's tail, held on so tightly that I could scarcely unclench my fists once we reached the shore!"He gratefully accepted a wineskin, drank in deep, noisy gulps. "There are some of our men downstream. A few who knew how to swim. A few more who had the wits to clamber up onto loose sumpter horses. They told me those in the rear of the train may have made it back to Cross Keys ere the tide came in. But most of the horses drowned, for certes, and too many men. How many we'll likely never know; only Christ All-merciful can say where or when their bodies will wash up-"What of my treasure?" John said huskily. "Think you that any °f|t can be recovered at the next low water?"No one spoke; he had his answer in their averted eyes. The vi priest at last said, "Some of it might be salvaged eventually. But mo it is gone, my lord.",eaHe spoke so matter-of-factly that it was obvious he had n what John had just lost. His treasure, jewels, gold plate, coronan° galia and crown, his wardrobe, his chapel, holy relics, tents, iurF^^^^zz^**^irssE^^r-"- -;;:^^'^P&EZZg*-^'«h*-U 8o, ,o 8e, you , *£%%»£«% ~- >-argue with me on this. You're soaked throueh an/JifT V Ot out here in the Fens could be the death of you'" A "&*John was not about to argue, for never had he been so cold HttKZSEZXSXS&sgS-"r^-*-«fe"^5i rntotnnrrerP:s^»Ta^rTrrat:°;fBevereHem±rseteCdef ^^ *"**' J°hn Was ""«** «P with upon contS the "7 7 ^""^but insisted' ^eles fe-^-3^-^2r^lttri rws^-^-^Js^:for word. ' hlle PCter and J°hn Mars*al waited in the solar^-.^iTL^ bUfSt °Ut SUdde^- "^ no, he lies in lett^ givS pair § ltten' 3nd What1S he doi"g? Dictating W^ to h8 Pa,rd°nS' ^'^nces, safe-conducts. Mayhap if

you35 th^lnoepVeenebdeen °nC f°r hSteninS'" Peter »* dryly, spun around ^e«? How does he?"^ a^harseaepr;etoto be,choosing his w°rds wi* «« -* ^ ^«^^^^rm ^ - p-p- *IT, TheACbabn0tpfleapl,ainerthanthat'cany°unot?"N*fcSt?U8hed 3t the PeremPtory tone. "Very well, my lord '' ^ ^'s t0o LCten'^ t0 the Kin8'S SpidtUal need- But - ^an

494"You were not with him very long. How can you be so sure?""He is passing clotted blood," the Abbot said bluntly, and they no longer doubted, stared at him in bleak silence.As he entered John's chamber soon afterward, Peter des Roches wondered why he'd needed a stranger to tell him John was dying. {-fe had only to look intoJohn's face. The shocking gauntness, the relentless wasting away of flesh, the ominous ashen cast to his skinthe signs were there for all but the blind to see, attesting to an illness that was mortal. Only the eyes were still John's, hollowed and feverish but utterly lucid, all too penetrating.John struggled to sit up at sight of Peter. "I'm not overly impressed withAbbot Adam. But I expect you'll want him to accompany us to Newark on the morrow?""Newark? Jesus