“Do me one service; when you have finished eating and drinking, take the bottle and the…um, pouch and bury them in a deep hole. Never return to them.”
“I will do exactly that, Sir Henry. Thank you again.”
“Good,” said Gramps. He pulled himself onto Searcher and yanked hard on the left rein, wheeling the animal around to face the opposite direction.
“To Sherebrook!” he shouted to himself and spurred the horse on.
Simon looked back over his shoulder but Gramps and Searcher had already disappeared in a cloud of hazy summer dust.
THIRTY
Sir Geoffrey was now convinced that Charlie had come to harm and had decided to question Longhaired Nick again. He had spoken to Tom Cook, to Martin the groom and his apprentice, Eustace, and to Thomas Thomasson. Nobody had seen Charlie in the last twenty-four hours. He questioned all of the pages, the other squires and the kitchen boys, all to no avail. His train of thought kept coming back to Longhaired Nick. He was convinced that the loathsome knave had knowledge of Charlie’s whereabouts, or could at least give him information that would lead him to Charlie’s trail. Sir Geoffrey had, at first, decided against being too hard with him because he seemed to have the patronage of Sir Baldock himself and Sir Baldock was, after all, Sir Geoffrey’s master. The old knight had spoken to the Earl many times in the past about his distrust of Longhaired Nick but Sir Robert had always dismissed it with a wave of his hand and said something about boys being boys.
Sir Geoffrey was in a quandary because the visit from Matilda was scheduled to take place at noon tomorrow and his hands would be full whilst that was taking place. He had everything arranged now and he knew he would have to make one final round of checks at dusk. That, however, still gave him all afternoon to search for his friend Charlie. He stopped himself in mid thought-friend! He realised that he had thought of Charlie as a friend first and a squire second. The whole concept disturbed the equilibrium of his mind a little, but now he understood why he was so concerned about the lad. Charlie had become more to Sir Geoffrey than just a simple servant; in the short time that he had known him he now considered him a friend. That simple recognition was enough to galvanise Sir Geoffrey into urgent action. He decided that he would
start with Longhaired Nick again and, this time, the interrogation would be a little more serious.
THIRTY-ONE
Longhaired Nick was in the bailey village watching a cock fight and was hanging over the wooden rails of the pit screaming encouragement to his chosen bird. Each bird had deadly steel spurs attached to its legs and was trained to leap onto its opponent in such a way that the spurs ripped at the opposing bird’s flesh. One of the brightly coloured cocks had gained the upper hand in the grisly spectacle and it was clear that this was the one that Nick had bet his money on because Nick was almost delirious with pleasure. When the bird had won, Nick looked around and caught sight of the beaten bird’s owner and shouted, “Five pennies Dirty Hugh-Now!”
Dirty Hugh was called Dirty Hugh because his name was Hugh and he was always dirty-extraordinarily dirty. He bred cockerels to fight and was a friend of Longhaired Nick’s. Nick did not have too many friends and those that were friends fell into two categories; those that were too afraid of him to be anything else, and those that were friends because they were just as nasty and vicious as Nick. Dirty Hugh was one of the latter and loved nothing more than to see his birds fight to the death and make money from the gambling that surrounded his activities. This was one of the few times that Longhaired Nick had won and Dirty Hugh sighed and beckoned him over.
“Come on then, you scoundrel, give me my five pennies,” said Nick approaching Hugh and holding out one of his skeletal white hands.
“Aye, you won fair and square. I’ll give you the money round the back though, just give me a little while.”
Dirty Hugh kept his money buried under a flat stone in a small pit behind the cock-fighting stall and he needed a little time to retrieve the five pence for Nick. Nick waited a few minutes and then followed Hugh
to the rear of the stall. He appeared saying “I shall be using some of your money tonight to…”
He never finished the sentence because a huge leather gloved fist caught him right under the chin with such force that it lifted his feet completely off the ground and sent him flailing onto his backside. He was stunned and struggled to understand what had happened as he shook his head clear of the shooting stars that flashed before his eyes. His jaw felt as if it had received a kick from a warhorse and he knew several of his brown stained teeth had shattered apart. An exposed nerve sent sharp pains into his jaw if he sucked air into his mouth.
Before he could regain his feet he took the full force of a kick to the stomach and was sent rolling again in the dusty dirt. When he came to a halt he realised that he should not try to get up again. Instead, he simply sat up and tried to clear his head and cope with the pain of his broken tooth and bruised stomach. His eyesight cleared and he took in the scene; Dirty Hugh was sitting in a crumpled heap a few yards away holding his nose. It appeared broken and bright red streams of blood were seeping through his fingers. In front of Nick stood Sir Geoffrey de Lancie of Bagshotte, the bumbling fool of a knight. He may, thought Nick, possess an almost supernatural strength but was still stupid and slow-witted.
“Think very hard before you say a single thing to me, kitchen boy,” said Sir Geoffrey in a soft voice that dripped menace over every syllable.
“I am going to ask you the same questions that I asked you earlier but this time I want the truth. Do you understand me?”
Nick nodded his understanding. He was going to play along and try to bamboozle the knight.
“Where is Charlie Watts?”
“I told you before, I do not know.”
Actually, that was the truth; Nick did not know where Sir Robert’s men had taken Charlie. All he did know was that he had knocked Charlie out and had then helped Sir Robert’s two men at arms tie him to a horse. They had ridden off into the night. The old knight could kick him until he was dead, he would not be able to answer that question.
“Look, Sir Geoffrey…” said Nick, wincing as air flowed across his broken tooth, “Charlie and I may have had a bad start but I was only having sport with him. The last time I saw him he was walking down towards the main gate. I thought he was going into the outside village.
What has happened to him there, I do not know. Please believe me, if I knew I would tell you.”
He put his hand to his jaw and made it clear he was in pain to prevent the knight from giving him another whack with his fist.
“I don’t believe you, kitchen boy.” Sir Geoffrey moved in and grabbed Nick by his black tunic, ripping it as he did so.
“I will give you one more chance; tell me where Charlie Watts is or I will arrest you for being an accomplice in the abduction of my personal squire. You will be in the dungeons tonight and stay there at my pleasure until I have the evidence that I need. I will also see to it that the Earl does not know of your whereabouts.”
Nick hesitated at this threat; he had always been cocky because he knew that he had both Sir Richard Baldock and Sir Robert of Gloucester on his side. He realised that Sir Geoffrey was not in a state of mind to concern himself with this. In all likelihood, if Sir Geoffrey arrested him, they would have no idea where he was and would not be able to help him. He needed to give the knight enough information to send him off on a fool’s errand until the deed was over and Matilda had the king safely in jail. Then he, Longhaired Nick, would receive his reward and all those that had defended the king would be in disgrace, defected to Matilda’s camp or swinging at the end of a rope.
He heaved a theatrical sigh of resignation, as if the knight had finally got the information out of him, “You have me Sir Geoffrey, and I don’t want to go to the dungeons, so I will tell you what I know.”
&nbs
p; Sir Geoffrey released Nick’s tunic and he slumped back to the ground, the jolt sending a fresh stab of pain through his jaw.
“I think Charlie may have been abducted by two ruffians that I saw him with yesterday evening. I overheard them discussing Charlie in the village tavern and then they saw that I was listening so I turned quickly away. I was afraid that if they thought I knew what they were doing then it would be the worse for me. They were regular cutthroats, not from these parts, from their voices I would say they were from London town.”
“Why would they want to take Charlie?” Sir Geoffrey looked sceptical.
“I think that they saw that Charlie has some pennies, and they seemed to think that he might be worth something to someone, perhaps they were thinking of asking for a ransom. I don’t know.”
Nick was wondering if the knight was going to believe him or if he did not sound convincing enough. He knew that he had to overcome his natural reputation for unreliability and Sir Geoffrey was the person least likely to believe him. He also wondered why the knight was so concerned about such a small sprat of a boy as Charlie Watts.
“Why didn’t you tell me this when I first questioned you?”
“Sir Geoffrey, I was sore afraid of them two scoundrels. If you turned up asking questions, then they would know I had told you and they would do me in for sure.”
“You’ve never been afraid of anything, or anyone, so long as I have known you.”
“Well there is a first time for everything,” said Nick.
“Did you overhear where they might be taking the boy?” asked Sir Geoffrey, with just a hint of belief creeping into his mind.
“Well, I don’t know for certain, I think they have a camp in Dunwood forest because I heard them say the name a couple of times. It’s a treacherous place, full of robbers and outlaws. I think that the camp they were talking of would be near the old Boars Reach monastery.”
Longhaired Nick had warmed to his task and was now hitting his stride. He was an accomplished liar and when he weaved his spells of untruth, very few people resisted his lies.
Sir Geoffrey looked as if he was now taking the full story as the truth and his furrowed brow was full of anxiety. The Boars Reach monastery was now just an abandoned collection of tumbledown buildings that had once been a thriving monastic community. An insidious plague had swept through it killing all the monks at a stroke. The church had never repopulated it because they could find no monks willing to go there and it eventually fell into disrepair. Outlaws, however, harboured no such fears and had been using the site as an informal camp and meeting place for several years. They were such violent types that no one had the courage to bother them there. Sir Geoffrey shuddered at the thought of Charlie being a captive in that place.
“If I find that you have been lying to me, kitchen boy, I will hang you. You may well have the patronage of my Lord Baldock, for whatever reason I’ll never know, but I am sure that his heart will not miss a beat if he finds that I have stretched your miserable scraggy neck. You take me
too lightly, kitchen boy, but I will offer you one chance to confirm that you have told me the truth. Well, have you?”
Nick weighed up his options and arrived at the same conclusion that he had earlier; all he had to do was to get Sir Geoffrey out of the way until the king was gone and Sir Richard had declared his allegiance to the new Queen Matilda.
He nodded slowly and said through his shattered teeth, “I have told you the truth Sir Geoffrey.”
Sir Geoffrey turned on his heels muttering, “You best be.”
Now Sir Geoffrey had a problem; the arrival of Matilda and her knights would be early tomorrow morning and his place was in the castle at the sides of both his lord, Sir Richard Baldock and King Stephen. But he wanted, as much, to go after the thugs that had taken Charlie into Dunwood forest to rob him. Sir Geoffrey was a pragmatic man and realised that he had to make a choice between duty and friendship. He struggled with the various factors; Charlie needed his help and time was of the essence. He hoped that the robbers would just take his money, give him a beating and leave him to the elements. They could, of course, cut his throat and be done with it but experience told him that this was unlikely. Outlaws normally didn’t kill unless they had to. They only wanted money and, sometimes, if they got caught, it could go easier for them if they hadn’t actually killed anyone.
What really upset the old knight was that at this very moment Charlie Watts was most likely laying in the woods hurt or, even possibly dead. His huge frame shivered at the thought. He made up his mind there and then and went against all the instincts that had been bred into him from birth. For all of his long life, Sir Geoffrey had known where his duty lay and to whom he owed allegiance. He had never hesitated to do his duty and follow the framework of obligation that his position and rank demanded, fealty to his Lord. This time, however, Sir Geoffrey had decided to make a decision that was purely for himself and that was to rescue Charlie Watts. And, besides all that, he owed his life to Charlie. He had not forgotten the incident with One Tooth and how Charlie had pulled him out of the flight of the outlaw’s arrow.
He would inform Thomas Thomasson that he would be leaving the castle and would deputise him to command in his absence. He had, after all, made sure of every detail of security for the visit and there was nothing left to chance. His men were strong, intelligent and loyal. Sir Geoffrey was convinced that he could leave on his rescue mission and that things would proceed without a hitch. This was a hard decision for him to make but he felt that for all of his years of loyal service he now deserved to put his own needs first.
It was about five miles from the castle to the outskirts of Dunwood forest and another mile and a half into the dense interior to reach the site of the old Boars Reach monastery. The robbers would have simply wished to hide themselves well enough to be away from any inquisitive eyes whilst they worked on their plan. In fact, he thought, with hard riding he may even be able to rescue Charlie and be back before Matilda and her delegation arrived.
Sir Geoffrey made for the stables and sought out Martin the groom. Martin had been taking a rest from his duties and was sitting in the sun idling away a few minutes. He leapt to his feet as soon as he saw the knight approach him. Martin could tell by his earnest expression that Sir Geoffrey was not simply going to pass the time of day with him.
“Sir Geoffrey! Any word of Charlie?”
“Some news Martin but I do not have time to tell you now. Where is your apprentice?”
“Eustace!” shouted Martin, into one of the stables. “Come here, immediately.”
Eustace blinked repeatedly as he emerged into the sunlight with an enquiring look on his face.
Sir Geoffrey immediately began giving orders. “Eustace, saddle Rufus and make him ready for me to ride …without delay!”
Eustace reacted to Sir Geoffrey’s command instantly and ran to Rufus to begin saddling the warhorse.
“And keep him light, I need speed, not protection this day.”
Turning to Martin, Sir Geoffrey maintained the urgency in his voice, “Go and find your father and tell him that he has charge of the guard for the visit of Matilda and I need to leave the castle. I will be gone for some hours and he has the full authority of my command.”
“I will go and find him immediately and relay your words, Sir Geoffrey.”
Martin hurried off in the direction of the main keep and just a few minutes later Eustace reported that Rufus had been saddled and reined and was awaiting his mount.
Sir Geoffrey hauled himself into the saddle and rode straight out onto the main street, trotting down towards the gate in the outer wall of the castle. Once outside the walls he lightly applied his spurs to Rufus’ belly and the horse responded instantaneously, leaping forward into a gallop, with all its sinews straining to give Sir Geoffrey every ounce of muscle power. The knight ha
d ridden Rufus for ten years and had urged him into battle seven times. The faithful horse had never refused to charge full tilt into raised pikes and swords. The slightest brush of the spurs and he knew what Sir Geoffrey wanted and he would not fail him now.
The knight steered the horse onto the road that would lead to the abandoned monastery in Dunwood forest.
THIRTY-TWO
Gramps reigned in Searcher and brought the animal to a halt by a small stream; he dismounted and allowed the sweat-flecked horse to drink deeply from the crystal clear water. He produced the Citadel to examine the events of the day. The screen glowed with a blue hue as he switched the device on and he tapped the time fix location button on the top right hand corner. The screen immediately showed him that it was Wednesday 5th July 1140 and the precise time was 08.56am. At the press of another button the list of major events for this region of England began to appear on the page’ there was nothing, so he pressed the button again to Thursday 6th July. This was different; there were two recorded events for this precise date and region. The first concerned a meeting between King Stephen and Lady Matilda, the self styled Lady of the English People, who were due to meet at Sherebrook Castle with the declared intention of reaching a truce in their civil war for the throne of England.
According to the Citadel this event was going to take place as history records but what Gramps saw next concerned him greatly. The next significant event was the attempted abduction of the king by Matilda and her accomplices which history records as being unsuccessful. The Citadel was flashing the event in bright red text and issuing Gramps with a warning that the conclusion to this event was now in a state of non-eventuality.
Whenever the Citadel issues a non-eventuality warning it means that the outcome of the event is no longer a given fact. There is an alternative outcome that will have significant ramifications in modern times. The only reason for a non-eventuality issue is the interference in history by a time traveller. This was the reason for Gramps’ role as a portal Guardian. His job was to ensure that history remained as it had always been and
Charlie Watts and the Rip in Time Page 18
