Margueritte took Leibulf with her into the Camargue. She could not go far until she saw what the pirates did and where they landed, but she wanted to talk to the sprites in the Marshlands when others were not around. The water sprites in the shallow, briny inland seas were a different sort of water babies. They still had the shape of little gelatin looking gingerbread men, but they looked dirty, being colored by mud and sand, and had prickers on them, much like a cactus. Their voices were still child-like but not exactly baby-sweet. For once, Margueritte did not feel like picking one up and hugging it. They looked rather like little swamp things, and Leibulf took one step back on seeing them.

“Our sea cousins report that they have not overheard any serious plans the pirates may have. They have talked about landing at the base of the Grande Rhone where they will decide what to do, but that is it.”

“Thank you, my friends. Keep the brine churning for the birds and the flowers,” Margueritte said.

“We will,” they shouted joyfully and went back to their work which they thought of as the best kind of play. Margueritte turned to the gnomes that oversaw the fields, and the horses, cattle, and sheep that covered the land.

“We have moved our wild and manade charges away from the coast,” the chief gnome started right up. “But we have no more idea what the pirates intend than the water blobs.”

Margueritte shook her head. Her various little ones did not always think or speak kindly about one another. Water Blob was not exactly a loving description, but she spoke on a different thought. “So you know, men will likely fight and blood will color the ground red. I know you will take care of all the birds and animals in the Camargue, only be careful. I would not wish to see any of you get hurt.”

The gnomes smiled at the idea that their goddess was concerned about them, to not want them hurt. They bowed and disappeared mostly blending into the landscape but with a judicious use of invisibility so the humans would never know they were there.

“So, we have to wait?” Leibulf asked.

Margueritte shook her head. “We bring the army down to the salt works, what will one day be Salin-de-Giraud, and we will send spies out from there to see if we can discern or discover the enemy’s plans. We will at least be in a position from there to cut the river and keep the pirates from sailing up the river to Arles.”

That movement took most of the next day. Otto sent riders to the Benedictines and Cistercians in the Camargue to warn them of the potential danger, and then they camped north of the salt works. Otto had requisitioned every boat and river ship and barge he could find in Arles. They carried his troops downriver, and then they would be used to block the river if the pirates chose to sail up the river toward the city. Once again, they waited.

By the time they set their camp, the first pirate ships were landing in the mouth of the river. No one expected any movement in the night. All the same, Margueritte posted sentries to watch for any movement in the marshes and fields. The moon was half-full and the sky sprinkled with clouds so it was not easy to see much in the dark. Margueritte just hoped movement might be seen if the enemy got close.

The army got up well before dawn and ate well, expecting to get in the midst of a fight before noon. The pirates, in contrast, had no idea an army was waiting for them just up the river. They probably imagined by the time the people of Arles realized they were coming they would practically be at the doorstep of the city. If they arranged for a traitor to let them in, they just might succeed.

Margueritte had to think about who might be willing to betray the city in that way. All she could imagine was Moslems in Marseille, Pagan and Orthodox pirates in Arles and Catholics in the countryside. That would throw Provence into a massive struggle and confusion. It was only two generations since Charles’ grandfather, Charles Martel threw the Moslems out of Provence entirely. She imagined there might still be some sympathies there.

When the pirates began their trek to Arles, Otto and Margueritte were both surprised. Roughly half of the pirates, around two hundred and fifty, were sailing up the river in eight ships. That was not unexpected. The river was perfectly navigable up to Arles, baring times of flooding. The other half, however, were marching up the far side of the river and appeared like they had every intention of ignoring the salt works and the monasteries and heading straight for the city.

“They must have arranged a way to get men into the city,” Otto concluded what they all thought at that point.

“But who would do such a thing?” Even Leibulf wondered.

“Not the first time a commander has guessed wrong,” Margueritte said of herself. “Let’s see if we can keep this from turning into a disaster.”

“I would guess they plan to attack the docks first thing and open the river gate,” Leibulf added for his father, and they scrambled to use their riverboats to ferry men across the river before the boats were needed to block the river. They got about a hundred and fifty men across, and Otto opted to lead those men.

“I get easily seasick,” he said as his excuse.

Margueritte struggled to get the riverboats lined up, stretched across the river. She tied some together where the current was strongest and anchored them to keep them from slipping downstream but she wanted to tie them all together to fully block the way. There was no time. At best she could loop them together in a poorly knitted fashion. She got some two hundred and fifty men into those boats, so they would match the pirates in numbers, but that left her with roughly two hundred and fifty on the wrong side of the river.

“Line up,” she yelled at the men that remained on her riverbank. “Get your bows to the ready.” She probably did not wait long enough, but as soon as the pirate ships came within range she yelled, “Keep your heads down and fire.” Nearly two hundred and fifty arrows came from the reeds and bushes along the riverbank. Some were a bit slow, but soon enough the soldiers had to pick their targets. Some pirates got cut down before they all ducked. For the ones closest to the western shore, the ships had to practically row blindly, not daring to raise their heads.

“Damn,” Margueritte mumbled quietly to herself. She should have arranged for flaming arrows. She should have had bowmen on both sides of the river. “Damn,” she said it again.

Otto should have arrayed his men in the best defensive position he could find, but the pirates marching up the bank of the river were coming on slower than the ships. They were being careful to not run into some marsh or bog. Otto gambled and turned his men to the river. Thus, Margueritte did get her bowmen on both sides, and the pirate ships became a death trap. When they reached the riverboat wall, against all orders, the soldiers of Otto and the men of Arles swarmed out of the boats on to the first three ships like ants at a picnic. The fourth, on Margueritte’s side, crashed through Margueritte’s poor knitting job, but barely went further.

The current in the river proved stronger than the pirates imagined. Rowing the twenty-some miles to Arles was not going to happen. About the time they realized they were not going to escape and began to drift back down the river Margueritte got her water sprites to make something like bridges that her men could walk across to the ships. The one that broke through her barrier and was lazily drifting back in her direction, and another one following the first three was also taken. In fact, when the pirates saw the men of Provence walking on the water, many threw down their weapons and surrendered. Some, not very pirate-like, fell to their knees and wept fully believing that God Almighty must be on the side of the Provencal people.

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MONDAY

The pirates are stopped, but Margueritte (and Genevieve) wonder what sort of traitor would actually open the gate to Arles. Until then, Happy Reading

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