Page 133 of A Column of Fire

Le Pin pointed to two men armed with rapiers. ‘Rasteau and Brocard, follow me.’

Pierre recognized them as the pair who had marched him through the streets of Paris from the tavern of St Étienne to the Guise family palace. That had been four years ago, but he would never forget the humiliation. He smiled to think how far above these thugs he stood now. How his life had changed!

They headed across the graveyard, and Pierre went with them.

‘I didn’t ask you to accompany me,’ Le Pin muttered.

‘I didn’t ask what you wanted,’ Pierre replied.

The barn was a ramshackle building. Some of the timbers of the walls were missing, the door hung askew, and there was a large pile of broken masonry outside. As they approached, he was aware that they were being watched intently by the men-at-arms outside the church and the gunmen in the graveyard.

The psalm came to an end, and silence fell as they reached the door of the barn.

Le Pin motioned to the others to stand back, then opened the door.

Inside the barn were about five hundred men, women and children, all standing – there were no pews. It was evident from their clothing that rich and poor were mixed promiscuously, unlike in a Catholic church where the elite had special seats. At one end of the barn Pierre could see a makeshift pulpit and, as he looked, a pastor in a cassock began to preach.

A moment later, several men near the door spotted the newcomers and moved to bar their way.

Le Pin took several paces back, to avoid a nose-to-nose confrontation. Rasteau and Brocard did the same. Then Le Pin announced: ‘The duke of Guise is coming to speak to you. Prepare the congregation to receive him.’

‘Hush!’ said a young man with a black beard. ‘Pastor Morel is preaching!’

‘Take care,’ Le Pin warned. ‘The duke is already displeased that you’re holding this service illegally in his barn. I advise you not to anger him further.’

‘Wait until the pastor has finished.’

Pierre said loudly: ‘The duke does not wait for such people as you!’

More of the congregation looked towards the door.

Blackbeard said: ‘You can’t come in!’

Le Pin stepped forward, slowly and purposefully, heading directly for him. ‘I will come in,’ he said deliberately.

The young man shoved Le Pin away with surprising force. Le Pin staggered back a pace.

Pierre heard shouts of indignation from the watching men-at-arms in the marketplace. Out of the corner of his eye he saw some of them begin to move into the graveyard.

‘You shouldn’t have done that,’ said Le Pin. With sudden speed he lashed out with his fist, hitting the young man squarely on the jaw. The beard provided negligible protection from such a powerful blow. The man fell down.

‘Now,’ said Le Pin, ‘I’m coming in.’

To Pierre’s astonishment and delight the Protestants did not have the sense to let him in. Instead, they all picked up stones, and Pierre realized that he had been wrong to assume that the pile was merely debris from the tumbledown building. He watched in disbelief. Were they really going to start a fight with hundreds of armed men?

‘Out of my way,’ said Le Pin, and he stepped forward.

The Protestants threw their stones.

Le Pin was hit by several. One struck his head and he fell.

Pierre, who did not carry a sword, stepped back out of the way.

Rasteau and Brocard roared with outrage at the assault on their captain. Both drew their rapiers and dashed forward.

The Protestants threw again. The two men-at-arms were hit by a hail of rocks. One gashed the cheek of Rasteau, the older of the two, the one with no nose. Another hit Brocard’s knee, causing him to fall. More men came out of the church and picked up stones.

Rasteau ran forward, bleeding from the wound to his face, rapier held in front of him, and thrust the blade into the belly of the young man with the black beard. The man screamed horribly in pain. The slim blade went through his body and the bloody point came out the other side. In a flash of memory, Pierre recalled hearing Rasteau and Brocard discuss sword fighting, on that fateful day four years ago.Forget about the heart, Rasteau had said.A blade in the guts doesn’t kill a man straight away, but it paralyses him. It hurts so much he can’t think of anything else.Then he had giggled.