Mercenaries by Jack Ludlow Page B

of the city to the east, while you are choosing the northern path skirting Capua …
    He had to admire Ephraim then; even in a letter to him he would not break the true method intended. The Jew was not even prepared to trust his messenger!
    Matters are in hand for the night of the new moon in January, when there will be little light. A man you have never before seen will come to you to lead you, and he will ask you to follow the Star of David. Do as he says .
    In the days before their flight, various souls came to the villa and each one took away with them a bundle. No words were exchanged, just a note saying to trust this fellow, which left Guaimar with no choice; he had no idea where their possessions, packed by his own hand without even telling their personal servants, were being taken, or how Ephraim would get them aboard a boat. There were his clothes, but more importantly there were the dresses his sister would need, those carefully stored in chests for the day she returned to become once more a lady of the court. These she would certainly need; there was little point in turning up in Bamberg with her in rags when she needed to make an impression.
    ‘Brother.’ Guaimar, who had been looking out onto the street trying to work out who might be informing on them, turned in surprise to see Berengara standing with a velvet bag in her hand. ‘I have brought you my jewels.’
    ‘Your jewels?’
    ‘Those few I managed to smuggle from the Castello when we were thrown out.’
    Looking at her, he saw in those great almond eyes the distress the mention of the name of their old home still caused.
    ‘What would I want with your jewels?’
    ‘You are, I think, going away.’
    Guaimar had told her nothing, his reasoning being that she might be alarmed at the risk, but then it occurred to him that he had been as close mouthed as the Jew. Had he kept his plans to himself from fear that she might inadvertently disclose them? He walked over to where she stood and kissed her on the forehead.
    ‘Do you think I would go away without telling you?’
    ‘I would say that you might have to.’
    ‘And leave you to face the wrath of Pandulf?’
    Her face puckered up with determination. ‘If I must face that then let it be. Our father must be avenged.’
    ‘My word, sister,’ said Guaimar, chucking her chin, ‘you are valiant.’
    The voice became a hiss, and the eyes actually blazed in a way Guaimar had not seen since they used to scrap as children. ‘Do not seek to belittle me!’
    ‘I don’t,’ he replied, surprised and well aware that, even if it was unintended, that was exactly what he had done.
    ‘Then take these jewels and sell them. There is a Jew near the marketplace called Ephraim who will give you money in exchange.’
    ‘How do you know of a Jew by the marketplace?’
    ‘Bricee told me.’
    ‘And why did your maid tell you that?’
    ‘The town is full of rumours that you intend to flee to Byzantium to seek assistance to get rid of Pandulf.’
    ‘Is it?’
    ‘So Bricee said!’ she insisted. ‘She also said the only way you will get clear is with a bribe. Everyone knows if you want the services of a Norman you buy it.’ She pressed the bag towards his hands. ‘Do so with these.’
    About to tell her she was wrong, Guaimar stopped himself, but in doing so he wondered at what he had become. Ever since he had spoken with Kasa Ephraim he had been forced to examine the past both of himself and his house. If his father had business with the Jew that gave him funds, what were they for? Secret pleasures, possibly, but more likely his dealings provided money with which he could bribe people. To find out what? Local dissent, information of plots being hatched, even the placing of spies in the households of his perceived enemies and, even more troubling, those he called friends. What would Berengara say to find out the father she thought a saint was almost certainly very far from that?
    He loved his sister in a way that