30 - King's Gold

by Michael Jecks

  Today he rode about the circuit with Simon, the two speaking little as they travelled. There was no news from the vills or the farms, to their relief.

  ‘I don’t know how much longer I can stand this hanging around,’ Simon said as they cantered gently back towards the castle after their last stop.

  ‘I am sure that if you wish to, it would be possible for you to go home,’ Baldwin said.

  ‘It’s an idea I find appealing,’ Simon sighed. ‘But I wouldn’t leave you here with only Sir Richard to keep you company.’

  Baldwin pulled a face. ‘The good Sir Richard’s appetite for ale, wine and dreadful jokes does create its own strain.’

  ‘And there are dangers from these mad brothers.’

  Baldwin nodded. ‘The Dunheveds would appear set upon their course. They are determined to enrich themselves, but whether they intend to make a serious attempt upon the castle is a different matter.’

  ‘If they do,’ Simon said, ‘they will find a warmer welcome in Berkeley than ever they did in Kenilworth.’

  ‘Perhaps so,’ Baldwin said.

  They rode on in companionable silence. Approaching the castle, Baldwin began casting about for any signs of spies in the land, but as usual there was nothing to give him cause for concern.

  ‘I begin to wonder if they will do anything,’ he muttered. ‘It is almost a week since their riot in Cirencester; months since they tried to raid Kenilworth. Perhaps they are losing men and cannot make an assault. What do you think, Simon?’

  They were riding up the straight road to the gate as Simon shrugged. ‘Baldwin, you know the minds of men like them better than I do. If it were me, I would have decided that the old King was a lost cause. It’s been months since his capture. Why would anyone fool themselves into thinking that they could liberate him and return him to his throne when there are so many who would do all in their power to prevent that? Too many have their interests bound up with those of Sir Roger. Even if these Dunheveds did succeed in breaking into the castle and freeing Sir Edward – what then? Would they ride to London with a hundred men-at-arms and hope that the city would welcome them? They might get an unpleasant surprise, if they were to try it.’

  Riding under the gatehouse, they swung from their saddles and Baldwin stood pulling his gloves off, when he heard a hail from the porter’s doorway.

  ‘Sir Baldwin. I am glad to see you again.’

  Baldwin gave a slow smile. ‘John. I had not thought you would come here.’

  ‘I am recovered now, I thank you. The malady did not last long,’ John said.

  Baldwin nodded, but could not help thinking that the man looked more unwell than before. ‘It is good to see you once more. You have heard of the threat?’

  ‘Yes, the Dunheveds are a terror to the whole land. But I will do what I can to help,’ John said – and he meant it with all his heart.

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  Thursday before Ascension63

  Willersey

  Father Luke had been at the home of William and Margaret to help them to hold vigil over their son Adam, who had died suddenly yesterday. His mood was sombre as he walked the short way home. They would be bringing the body to the church later, and Luke must have everything ready to honour the poor young man. Only two-and-twenty – a terribly young age to die. For William it was doubly shattering, for he had no other sons, and Adam had not yet married. There was no son or grandson to carry on farming his land; no one to look after him and his wife when they grew old. All their hopes and dreams had shattered.

  It was the same each time. Bereavement was always appalling.

  For instance, Jen was wasting away by the day. The brightness in her eyes had grown dim, and the intelligence which had been her most obvious attribute, seemed to have been swallowed up by her misery.

  She was there now, he saw, a small figure at the door to the church. Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself to meet her. He had so little time to spare now, before the arrival of the funeral party.

  ‘Hello, Jen,’ he smiled. ‘I am glad to see you.’

  ‘May I come inside for a little?’

  ‘Of course! All are welcome in God’s house.’ Luke opened the door, walked inside and held it for her. She followed him, and he noticed that her eyes went straight to the cross. It was good to see a child so sure of her faith, he thought. If it were not for the fact that she was still suffering from the loss of her father, he would have wondered whether she might have a vocation; as it was he would not attempt to test her for such a path, but instead would try to aid her to overcome her sadness.

  ‘Come, child, would you like to help me clean the floor? There is a funeral today. Adam Williamson – drowned, you know. Would you help me to prepare the church for him?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I’d like to.’

  She was a good helper. While he went about the church preparing the altar, setting out candles, bread, and wine, she took his besom and swept the flagstone floor.

  When he cast surreptitious glances at her, Father Luke was pleased to see that she had lost a little of her desolate look. Perhaps he should have her help a little more often. The girl obviously enjoyed being here.

  And then the mood was broken. Agatha appeared in the doorway, and her eyes snapped from Jen to him, full of suspicion and doubt.

  ‘It is all right, Agatha. Jen came in to help me,’ Father Luke said.

  Agatha nodded brusquely, but even as she turned to leave, Father Luke’s polite smile stiffened on his lips. Her expression –why so suspicious? And then he threw a glance at Jen, and saw that her eyes were wide with fear.

  And suddenly Father Luke was filled with horror as he realised the truth.

  Eve of Ascension64

  Berkeley Castle

  Harry and Senchet had taken to sitting apart from Dolwyn. It had been cold down there in their gaol, but since Sir Baldwin had returned, they had been moved to this chamber in the main keep, which was considerably warmer and more pleasant.

  Still, if anything, Harry thought that Dolwyn’s mood was deteriorating. The days of enforced inactivity, with nothing to break the monotony other than the two meals they were given – one of bread and pottage and one of oaten cakes with a little cheese – was giving him too much opportunity for introspection. He was not coping well.

  Senchet yawned and scratched at an armpit where a flea or louse had bitten him the night before. ‘How much longer do we remain in here?’

  ‘Until the lord of the castle comes back and holds court,’ Harry said.

  Ah. We wait only for his return. And if he dies?’

  ‘I suppose we have a court sooner, with professionals sitting in justice. It depends on the custom of the manor.’

  Senchet shook his head and sighed. ‘And all because of the cart, and saving our friend here.’

  ‘I am sorry – all right? I wish I’d never taken the blasted cart,’ Dolwyn said bitterly.

  ‘Do not be downhearted,’ Senchet murmured. ‘You gave me a sight of a treasure chest larger than I have ever seen before. It was,’ he added, ‘a beautiful vision.’

  ‘I wish we’d just knocked you on the head and taken it,’ Harry said, only half-joking.

  ‘No, Harry,’ Senchet remonstrated. ‘You forget yourself. Our friend here saved us from tedium. Besides, if he had not appeared we might have starved. It was his food that kept us alive. Our next action would have been to waylay a traveller and steal from him, which would have led to us being in a gaol in any case.’

  ‘I wonder where that money is now?’ Harry said.

  ‘Ah, I expect the good Lord of Berkeley has it with him. He is no fool, after all. Would you trust your money to men such as those who are his guards here at the castle? No – nor I. The money will help pay for the goods and food he will need on his way, assuredly.’

  Dolwyn groaned. ‘It hurts to think of all that coin going to a lord who already has so much.’

  Harry shrugged. ‘That’s the way of things. There i
s nothing we can get our hands on that isn’t likely to be filched by some baron. That’s how they get their money, by stealing it from the likes of you and me.’

  Dolwyn grunted. ‘I was hoping to be rich. And I would be, if it wasn’t for those prickles at Kenilworth. I could have got Sir Edward out, and then I’d have been rolling in gold for the rest of my life. I could have been made sergeant of a nice little manor somewhere – that would have suited me down to the ground. And instead I’m stuck in here, accused of murders I didn’t even do.’

  Senchet looked at him. ‘Well, my friend, for my money, I don’t think it matters who did it or why. But unless someone else is found guilty, all three of us could suffer the punishment. And I do not like that idea one bit.’

  Ascension Day65

  Berkeley Castle

  Benedetto saw his brother at the other side of the yard and hurried over to see him, his bodyguards about him. ‘Matteo, I must talk to you.’

  ‘No. Keep away from me,’ Matteo pleaded, and retreated a few paces. Alured was nearby, and now he interposed himself, his hand on his long knife.

  ‘Matteo, please. You haven’t spoken to me for days, little brother.’

  ‘You tried to kill me! You had your assassin Jevan stab me, and then you killed him. I know it all.’

  Benedetto gaped. ‘How can you say these things? You know I wouldn’t hurt you! I am your own flesh and blood – I could no more harm you than cut off my own arm.’

  ‘I don’t trust you!’

  Alured was keeping his eyes on Benedetto and his men, and the moment Benedetto tried to step forward, Alured’s knife was out. Two henchmen pulled out their own weapons, and one made a feint at Alured, but he had learned how to fight in the back alleys near the Thames, and he easily blocked the blade with his own, twisting his wrist to hold it. Then leaning forward, he slammed his forehead into the other man’s nose. He screamed and fell back, his nose exploding with blood, and Alured kept hold of his knife, flicking it into the air and catching it in his left hand. Quickly, he stepped back and watched Benedetto’s other men warily.

  ‘Enough!’ Sir Richard roared. He had been at the hall’s steps, and had seen the fight.

  But Benedetto’s second guard was unwilling to give up. He tried to stab Alured’s hip. There was a flash of steel, and Alured knocked his sword to the ground. He stood on the point and held out his long knife to the henchman’s neck. The man froze.

  While Alured’s attention was on him, the man on the ground caught hold of Alured’s ankle. Giving it a sharp jerk, he saw Alured crash to the ground with an expression of delight on his bloody face. He was on his feet in a moment, and kicked Alured twice in the head.

  Alured thought the first must break his neck. It felt like a kick from a destrier, and he could feel the muscle at the side of his skull, behind his ear, rip. Before he could react to it, a second kick caught his cheek.

  As the man pulled his leg back to kick one last time, Sir Richard shoved his boot between the man’s legs and lifted his knee, hard.

  ‘I SAID,’ Sir Richard bellowed, as the man collapsed, eyes bulging, ‘ENOUGH!’

  Willersey

  He stood at the altar with the pride that he felt on this day every year. Ascension Day, the day that Our Lord was taken up to Heaven to sit at God’s right hand. It was one of the principal feasts in the Christian calendar, and in Luke’s simple mind, one of the most important. He loved the culmination of Christ’s story, with the picture in his mind of the Christ rising to Heaven over the heads of the eleven disciples as they watched, awestruck and reverential.

  But today there was another feeling as he celebrated the Mass and prayed to God. A certainty that in his little church was a murderer.

  Jen had said nothing. When he questioned her, she had simply stared at him with those wide, terrified eyes of hers, the fear plain on her face. She knew something. It was there in the way she became calm in the church while alone with Father Luke, but trembled when her mother came into view.

  She was there now, he knew, behind him. Jen would be standing like a little sapling, swaying slightly, not glancing once at her mother beside her.

  It made his heart want to burst. Perhaps his first inclination had been correct when he looked upon Jen a week ago and wondered whether the child might wish to enter a convent. Father Luke was not entirely certain how to go about this, but surely nuns had a need of lay–sisters to perform menial tasks. Perhaps Jen could be introduced in such a manner as to let her gradually become accustomed to the regime and see if she had a vocation.

  The ceremony ended, he turned and gave his parishioners the blessing, and the words almost stuck in his throat. The look Agatha was giving him was one of pure poison. Her husband had been an irritation and annoyance, after all. Perhaps she looked upon Luke too as a blockage in the path to her happiness and would seek to destroy him next.

  As the congregation filed out of the church, he hurried to ensure that he was safely amongst others. But it was not only his own safety which he must protect, it was that of Jen as well. Were the woman to try to harm the girl, Luke would never forgive himself. He licked dry lips as he went into the sunlight with the other men. They were looking forward to the feast, laughing and joking about the food and drink waiting for them at the reeve’s house, and he was swept along with them.

  When he a look over his shoulder, he saw that Agatha’s eyes were fixed steadfastly upon him, and he suddenly felt entirely helpless. He had no idea how to protect himself or Jen.

  Berkeley Castle

  ‘How are you?’ Baldwin asked as Alured’s eyes opened.

  He looked a mess. The castle’s healer had come to see him, but beyond washing the worst of the dirt from his cheek and covering it with a pad smeared in honey, the fellow did not seem to think there was much he need do.

  ‘I’ve had worse,’ Alured said weakly, trying to smile. His head was pounding, his neck twisted, and his cheek as raw as a burn. ‘You should see the other man.’

  ‘I have done,’ Sir Richard said loudly. ‘He will remain in the gaol until I am ready to release him. That will be a long time.’

  ‘Is there anything you need?’ Baldwin asked.

  ‘Only sleep, I think. But I thank you. Could you arrange for someone to protect Matteo while I am unwell?’

  ‘You believe him in danger?’ Baldwin said.

  ‘Matteo firmly believes Benedetto tried to kill him. I thought it was an irrational fancy, but now I’m less sure. If Matteo is right, Benedetto may succeed. Please, don’t let him.’

  ‘We will do all we can,’ Baldwin promised. ‘Now rest. My servant will guard your master. However, we need to protect you as well, I think.’

  ‘Hugh can stay here for now,’ Simon suggested. ‘He will be adequate against the henchmen of a banker.’

  The three men left Alured in his chamber.

  ‘Benedetto must be held until this matter is resolved,’ Baldwin said. ‘Lord Berkeley would not be happy, were he to learn such a fight took place in his castle. He will be angry enough to hear of Sir Jevan’s death.’

  ‘We cannot keep the banker indefinitely,’ Sir Richard protested.

  ‘They won’t want him until the Scottish campaign is over,’ Baldwin said with certainty. ‘He can wait until then at least. He should be glad we aren’t placing him in the gaol for his men’s behaviour tonight.’

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  Willersey

  Father Luke sat at the table beside the reeve and ate, although his appetite was flown.

  All he had ever wanted to do was protect the souls of his parish. He had no ambition to become a bishop; for him the greatest pleasure in life was to help to save the eternal sparks of life that existed in the people here. They were an amiable group: kindly, generous, happy. They misbehaved occasionally, but there was no rancour in it. He loved them.

  He felt as though Agatha had betrayed him.

  She was there at the farther end of the hall, sitting with her girl at her si
de, eating with gusto, as though there was nothing on her conscience. She had not confessed, and that meant that her soul was in mortal danger. If she were to fall into a well tonight, and die unshriven, she would go straight to Hell, without any possibility of redemption. He must not fail her! And yet if she refused to confess, what could he do?

  He remained at the table as others drank themselves silly. There were games afterwards: two youths throwing knives at a target on the wall; three men gambling in a corner; one enterprising woman attempting to ply her trade with some of the unmarried men, while wives watched with tart disapproval and Luke with unseeing eyes.

  Rising, he made his way from the room. Outside it was dark, and he looked for the moon. It was a large, silvery shape behind clouds, but there was enough light to show him the way to St Peter’s. Inside the church, he used flint and tinder to ignite a scrap or two from which he could light a candle.

  ‘You guessed, didn’t you?’ came a voice from behind him.

  His heart pounded painfully. ‘I did, yes, Agatha. I should have realised sooner, I suppose, but I was always an innocent, as you once told me.’

  ‘You don’t have to tell anyone.’

  That stung. He flung himself around. ‘Do you think that is in my mind, woman? Do you think I care about broadcasting your guilt? My fear is for you, for you and Jen. If you do nothing, you will burn in Hell.’

  ‘Huh! What do I care of Hell? You tell these stories to make men and women behave, but when have the demons come and taken away a man from the vill? You know of men who have killed, and do they receive punishment? Those men who went with you to Kenilworth, did they get their judgement?’