Crispin_ At the Edge of the World - Avi [53]
Troth said nothing to that.
“Do you trust Dudley to set us free, if he gets his treasure?” I demanded of Bear.
“By Saint Jerome, I don’t know,” was Bear’s reply. We had reached the oxcart. Under the watchful eye of both the guard and the cook, Bear leaned into the oxcart and searched about for a piece of armor that might fit him.
He fetched up a chain mail shirt. It was corroded, and had some holes. Nonetheless, he pulled it over his head so that it covered half his arms, his neck, and most of his chest.
Troth and I looked on glumly.
Next, Bear rummaged around the oxcart for a breastplate. When he found one, he held it to his body for a fitting, knocking it with his knuckles to see if it was sound.
“Crispin,” he said. “Help me with the straps.”
I had watched his dressing with mounting despair. “Bear, we can get away and—”
“Crispin,” he barked, “remember: the man who thinks his enemy is a fool, is the greater fool. Now do as I say!”
Troth watched, wide-eyed as I, fumbling, buckled the leather straps behind Bear’s back so the plate was held to his chest. It fit poorly.
Bear next took up a helmet—examined it indifferently—and set it on his head.
He turned to the guard. “There are swords in there,” he said, with a nod to the cart. “Can I arm myself?”
“No,” said the man. “You heard the captain.”
Bear shrugged.
I looked at Bear. Though he did not have his old bulk, he was still a large man, but the ill-fitting plate and helmet served to make him ungainly and vulnerable in appearance.
“Now, come,” said Bear, “we have just a little time.” He put his arm about my shoulder, did as much with Troth, and began to draw us away.
The cook called, “The boy is to stay here!” He held up a sword of his own to show his strength.
“In good faith, I’ll have him for just a moment,” Bear called back. “You may watch us! I wish to make sure they know what to do.”
The cook lowered his sword. “Be quick,” he said.
With us at his side, Bear set his steps toward where Dudley waited with his troops. Halfway there, Bear stopped. No one was around us. “Listen well,” he said, his voice hushed but urgent. “We have this last moment.”
“Bear …” I began.
He touched my mouth to keep me still, then placed a large hand on each our shoulders and bent close so that our three heads were touching. “Know the love I have for you both,” he began. “As God is holy, you must escape, and find your way to freedom. You’ll most likely have to do so without me.”
Seething with frustration, I wanted to speak but could not.
He went on: “Know there is nothing in this that you have done. You are both without sin.”
I felt like screaming at him, hitting him with my rage that he was not letting me do anything, but insisting—as he did of old—to tell me what to do, refusing to allow me to act as I might. “Bear—”
“Crispin,” he hissed, “don’t argue! Now, I will go along with Captain Dudley, and see what God has in store. Troth, start off as he bid you. Crispin, you must free yourself from the one who guards you. Join Troth. It’s your only hope. As soon as you meet, run off. The two of you need each other.”
“But what of you?” I cried.
“By my Blessed Lady, I have no desire to leave off living,” he said. “But if you two can free yourselves, my prayers will be answered. Perhaps God has some means for us to stay together. If He does, I don’t know it.”
“Bear,” I pleaded, “you must let me—”
“Crispin, honor me and my love by living free. Troth, do the same. Cling to one another. Find some place to be. Let it be as it may be! Pray for my soul, but never neglect your own. Do you understand me, Crispin? Free yourself and get to Troth. Do what you must do. Is that clear?”
“Yes, but—”
Bear, breathing heavily, would not stop, would not let me say one thing. “Troth,” he went on, “trust yourself first, then Crispin. Always honor Aude. Find a way to live that lets you be yourself. No God—yours or mine—can ask for more.”
That said, he reached round and pulled us toward him in an embrace.
I could not—would not—believe it would