King's Gold

He hated being here in this great castle. The place felt like a prison. Luke was used to the countryside about Willersey and Broadway. If he had wanted to be secluded, he would have joined a monastery.

Outside, the bustle of the men at the walls made his head hurt. He eyed the men on the scaffolding, the masons hacking at rocks with their sharp hammers and chisels, men up higher with only a hammer, tapping here or there at a recalcitrant stone as they tried to make the wall secure. Chips and small flakes of rock pattered to the ground like hail.

He was not used to all this noise. He was out of place, and this was not where he should be. He should be in his little church back at Willersey.

‘Father?’ Agatha was approaching him with a look of resolve on her face.

‘Yes, my daughter?’

‘How long do you think it will be before I can get my horse and cart?’

‘As long as it takes for my Lord Berkeley to decide that it truly was yours and that it should be returned,’ he said testily. ‘It is not in my hands.’

‘I know, but I want to get home again to my little girl.’

He wanted to shout that he too had no desire to remain here. The trip had turned out to be worthwhile because of recovering the King’s gold, but now that he was here, he was as sure as he could be that he would never be able to touch the coins. Lord Berkeley would never let a parish priest and a peasant woman take any of the money back.

‘You are right,’ he said. ‘It would be good to return to her.’

‘I can’t leave without my horse and cart. It would make all my trouble pointless,’ she said.

‘And mine,’ he agreed. He set his jaw. He would have hoped that Agatha would show a little more appreciation for the lengths to which he had gone. Then again, he had never told her that he was intending to find the money so that he could use some of it to make her life and that of Jen easier. Why should she be grateful?

He about to walk off when he heard his name called again. Turning, he found himself confronted by a man-at-arms.

‘You!’

‘Father, I have sinned and I need you to hear my confession.’

‘I will not! After what you did?’

‘Father Luke, I must make confession. You wouldn’t deny me that, would you?’ John said, and gave a twisted grin.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Maundy Thursday

Berkeley Castle

Dolwyn was sitting apart from the other two. They had shunned him since learning he had been accused of murder. Perhaps, he thought sullenly, they expected him to spring upon them during the night and slay them with bare hands and teeth.

The morning was well advanced when the upper door opened and five men unlocked their cell, calling on all three to follow them.

Traipsing up the stairway, Dolwyn was surprised at how leaden his feet felt. He had done without food for longer than this before, when he had been on the run, but that did not compare to this feeling.

The sudden glare made him cover his eyes as it had two days before, but today there was no direct sunlight, only bright clouds that gleamed like balls of spun silver high overhead.

There were two more men out here, both with staffs at the ready, and he eyed them as he passed. Seven guards for three weak and hungry men, Dolwyn thought to himself. It was heavy-handed.

They were brought to the hall. There was no fire today. Instead, the blackened hearth in the middle of the broad flagstoned room had been cleared, and the three prisoners were placed before it. A shame it was not lit. The stone walls absorbed any heat the sun might provide; in here it was perpetual autumn.

At the far end of the hall, sitting on his great seat on his dais, was Lord Berkeley, looking solemn. Ranged about the walls were men from the castle’s garrison, and Dolwyn saw the priest, Agatha, Baldwin and the others. He eyed them with a feeling of apprehension. This was not to be a quick and easy hearing with allies to protect him; this was a dangerous chamber.

‘You have been accused of the murder of Ham Carter of Willersey. How do you plead?’

Dolwyn knew that this court was convened to see to it that he was executed. A simple means for a lord to ensure that peasants would obey his laws was to hang a malefactor every so often.

‘I am innocent.’

‘What of the other two? How do they plead?’ Lord Berkeley called, staring at Harry and Senchet.

‘Innocent,’ they both responded quickly.

Dolwyn looked at them. ‘I did not find these two until after I had taken the cart. I was riding along the road alone when Sir Jevan there,’ he nodded in Sir Jevan’s direction, ‘saw me and stabbed me. They have nothing to do with the matter.’

‘Is there anyone who can speak for these two?’ Lord Berkeley asked.

Gilbert nodded. ‘My lord, I know them both. They were loyal servants to Sir Edward when he was King. He would speak for them, if you wish, I am sure.’

There was some annoyance in the face of Lord Berkeley when he heard that, but after a muttered discussion it was decided by the lord and his steward that the two could be released.