King of the Middle March Read Online Free PDF Page A

“Fighting-fear is different,” he began, and he rubbed his right hand across his mouth. “Soon as you know there’s going to be fighting, it’s like a fever. Makes your skin crawl. You get the squits. Then you start trembling and it don’t stop. Isn’t that right, boys?”
    All Milon’s men were nodding. One of them looked the same age as I am. His Adam’s apple was bobbing up and down.
    â€œYour mouth’s fig-dry,” Wido said.
    â€œAnd the Night Hag, she tramples you,” said Giff.
    Godard rubbed his hand across his mouth again. “And your fear gallops with you into the fight. You’re alive! Your blood’s on fire. You’re afraid. Everyone’s afraid. Some people show it, some don’t.”
    â€œAnd some are brave,” added Wido, “and some aren’t.”
    â€œMilon says you can’t learn to be brave,” I said. “It’s just instinct.”
    â€œYou can learn loyalty,” said Wido. “And duty. You can stick it out.”
    â€œBut when a Saracen runs at you, and he’s howling?” I asked.
    â€œThat’s when it counts,” Wido replied. “In the thick of it.”
    â€œCowards!” said Godard in disgust. “They’re worse than grass snakes.”
    â€œThey should be skinned,” said Wido.
    â€œRemember bloody Gotiller?” asked Godard.
    â€œHe did for us, all right,” said Wido. “We lost five men because of him. So after the battle we opened up his stomach and drew out his gut and wound it round a pole.”
    â€œThe Saracens are worst,” said Giff. “I’ve fought the Germans and the Angevins, but the Saracens are worst. Howling and wailing. Ghastly wailing.”
    Godard wrapped his arms around his chest. “Saracens know about loyalty and duty, all right. Bloody infidels! They’re cruel as fishhooks, and they think God is on their side.”
    â€œWant to know what they did to a mate of mine?” Giff asked me.
    The hot sun beat down, and I realized I was shivering. “What?” I asked.
    â€œHe’ll find out soon enough,” Wido said.
    What I’ll find out is whether I’m good enough. Whether everything I know to be right—duty and loyalty and grit—is stronger than my fear once I’m actually in battle.
    Not just fear. Worse than that. Yellow seizure. Battle-terror.
    I’ve trained hard, and I trust Bonamy, and I know what I should do, but I’m still afraid.

11
ENEMIES OF GOD
    T HEY’RE KILLERS, MILON’S MEN! WIDO AND GODARD and Giff.”
    â€œKillers of evil,” said Lord Stephen. “That’s what Saint Bernard said.”
    â€œNo, sir, you don’t understand. They murdered one of their own men because he was a coward and let them down.”
    Lord Stephen blinked several times. “Or because his fear made them afraid,” he said.
    â€œI wish I hadn’t talked to them.”
    â€œSit down!” Lord Stephen said. “Standing there like that, first on one leg, then on the other.”
    â€œI’m sorry, sir.”
    â€œThis sun’s bad enough without my having to stare right into it. Now then, Arthur! What is our crusade?”
    â€œAn act of devotion,” I replied. “A quest that requires fighting skills and can win us great honor. Awar against the enemies of God.”
    â€œYes, all those things,” said Lord Stephen. “We’re only fighting because keeping the peace would be wrong—we’re not killing for the sake of it.”
    â€œMilon’s men are,” I said.
    â€œLook at it from their point of view,” said Lord Stephen. “They didn’t choose to come. And what’s in it for them? Company. Adventure. A woman or two. That’s all.”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    â€œAs I told you at Soissons,” Lord Stephen said, “there are many reasons why men take the Cross, some noble, some