Ximene Trencavel- 21 June 1355
Ximene wept with relief. Just three words. But three words which gave her hope. She had no idea whether John could survive.
Guilliam was an experienced soldier. He was her grandmother’s lover, her own mentor and therefore had no reason to mislead her… and yet he was of the opinion that it would be better to allow John to die rather than for a proud young man live the rest of his life as a cripple.
Guillam had now gone into the nearby village of Monsegur to get medication and the transport needed to move John to a place where he could be attended by an experienced physician.
She forced herself to look again at John’s leg. Almost ripped apart; only bound together by the tournequet. More tears cascaded down her cheeks. Perhaps Guillam was right, if they did succeed in saving him it might be something both John and herself would endure and perhaps regret for the rest of their lives.
She shook her head. This must not be a rational decision, it was emotional. She must do everything in her power to save him.
She loaded her crossbow and carefully loooked around. She was in deep cover but was able to peer throught the surrounding foliage to look across the meadow. She froze. Two men were walking cautiously along the side of the meadow only twenty feet away from her. The men were clearly search for something. Their heads moved continuously., their eyes darting from side to side
All it would need was for either of the horses to grunt or whinny. She snatched a glance over her shoulder. The horses werecertainly aware, but quiet.
The men pased in front of her heading towards the village. Suddenly they reacted to something Ximene could not see. They retreated into the undergrowth. again within twenty feet of Ximene.
Ximene now realised what had disturbed them Guilliam was driving a substantial cart with his horse tied behind.
She could see them rise to a crouch. and raise their swords. they obviously intended to attack Guillam. She waited and waited .The men rose to their feet and started to run towards Guillam. the horses pulling the cart reared in alarm .
Ximene snatched her crossbow upwards, aimed and fired. the man nearest to her threw his arms into the air and fell forward an arrow protruding from his back. the second man turned through ninety degrees and ran hard for the scrub.
Guillam jumped from the cart sword in hand and pursued him. it was ten minutes before he returned.
He dragged the man who Ximene had killed into the bushes.
He then returned to where Ximene was still crouching, John’s head in her lap.
‘For someone who hates warfare, you certainly have a remarkable talent for killing people.’
‘I had no alternative.’
All I have to say is thank you. Now, I have got everything I wanted; A cart of reasonable quality, full of farm produce, so that we may hide him in case there are people looking for us.’
Guillam grimaced. ‘and I do believe there will be people looking for us. I had to pay a bit more than market value but in the circumstances that is only to be expected.’
The sides of the cart were piled with sides of meat, bags of un-milled wheat, bundles of carrots, piles of cabbage, cauliflower and beet, baskets full of fresh and dried beans and cages containing live ducks and geese. Piled at the back of the card were a dozen bundles of freshly cut hay. In the centre was a double layer of well packed mattresses.
With great difficulty Guillam lifted John as carefully as possible onto the cart. Ximene held his legs whilst Guillam slowly, carefully dragged him on to the mattresses. They pulled some hessian sacking over him and then carefully fitted the bundles of hay so that the central space was totally concealed from prying eyes. They then moved back to the village slowly and cautiously to avoid unnecessary jarring.
Ximene felt every bump as if it was her who lay desperately injured under the hay. Her spirits fell. Was it possible John could survive five hours of this?
When they had reached the village Guillam then opened a bag he carried over his shoulder and took out a small bottle.’Horse urine!I spoke briefly to Sebastien Sartre, the constable of the chateau and made him aware of everything which has happened. As I suspected he had access to medical supplies. He washed the whole of John’s leg and the lower part of his abdomen with the urine. ‘Leaches’ He pushed the leaches into John’s wound. ‘Cloth soaked in Honey’.
Ximene was horrified. ‘That is disgusting.’
‘You do want him to live don’t you? The horse manure kills off any infection, the leaches will keep the wound clean . The cloth and honey will keep out any new infection.
Now! we need to disguise ourselves!’
He produced some clothes. Ximene examined the clothes he had given her .’It smells of pigs!’
Guillam raised his eyebrows. ‘Good, then it won’t raise anyone’s suspicions.’
They were rapidly losing the light but there was still another task to perform.
‘I know that these horses must travel with us but, I ask you, is a pair of thoroughbred grays pulling a farm cart credible?
I obtained some brown dye from a tailor in the village. They set about colouring Helios and Selene so that they were less obvious. Rugs were thrown over their backs and they were harnessed to the cart. They protested vigorously.
Ximene went from one to the other, stroking them and muttering endearments to calm them down.
‘Undo the harnesses. Don’t harness them until just before we leave. Once they have work to do they will be far more compliant.’
By now it was dark. For Ximene, the darkness brought a deep sense of foreboding, from which, try as she might, she could not escape.
‘Ximene get some sleep. Use the hut we used erlier today for shelter; take some blankets with you. Sebastien is mobilising some of his guards and will provide additional security overnight. Get good night’s sleep, I will stand guard with them
Sleep! Absolutely not. I am the one who insisted on saving John and I will see it through!’
It was a particulary cold night and Guillam became increasingly concerned. ‘The cold air is flowing down from the surrounding mountains. It must be close to freezing and he is in no condition to fight the cold. Even with the straw on top of him, the blankets we have are insufficient to protect him.’
Ximeme glared at Guillam and then her face lifted as she realized what must be done. ‘I will wrap myself around him, cover us with the blanket and my body warmth will protect him from the cold!’ They removed the sacks of grain, which had been piled across the back of the cart and Ximene scrambled in alongside John.
As dawn broke John remained unconscious. Ximene stroked his brow and put her ear to his chest. He was still breathing!
Guillam made Ximene aware that every decision was a fine balance between security, John’s deteriorating condition and the speed necessary to get him to a skilled physician. They left half an hour after dawn to allow time for some light to reach the bottom of the deep valley through which they must travel.