King's Gold

‘Yes, of course,’ Matteo said disconsolately. His head was low on his shoulders, a picture of abject gloom. ‘I am sorry to have troubled you. But remember what I have said, sirs. I believe my life may be the next to be taken.’

Wednesday after Easter

Berkeley

‘Simon, I am sorry to leave you here,’ Baldwin said.

‘I am sad you are to ride off,’ Simon replied. There was much he wanted to say, but the only words that came to mind were platitudes that had no place in their friendship. ‘Do you want me to take a message back to Jeanne?’

‘No. I hope I shall be able to speak to her myself,’ Baldwin said with a smile, but he was tense as he listened to the shouted orders from the front of the column.

Sir Ralph was in the ward, and he strode to Baldwin’s side.

‘I hope you have good fortune, my friend.’

‘And I you,’ Baldwin said. ‘Good luck with your charge, my friend. You must look after him as best you can. If you need aid, speak with my friend Simon. He is reliable, honest and trustworthy.’

‘I shall. Godspeed.’

‘Sir Baldwin? It is time,’ Edgar said. He was seated on his great rounsey, who pranced and chewed his bit, eager to be off.

Baldwin nodded. ‘Aye. We must away, Simon.’

‘Godspeed you back, Baldwin,’ Simon said.

His friend gave him a quick grin, and turned to his horse. He patted Wolf, and was about to mount, when he saw Sir Richard. Quickly, he crossed to the latter and had a brief word, then mounted, waved once, and was off with the rest of the cavalcade.

The whole rattling mass was deafening. Cooking pots and pans, dangling from carts, clashed and clanged; iron-shod wheels thundered and hammered against the cobbles, while the hooves of many horses together produced a cacophony of noise that was painful on the ears. Simon knew they would be lucky to manage twenty miles each day. More likely, they would only complete about fifteen, what with the ox-wagons lumbering along at the rear. The huge creatures needed so much time to rest each day, and the party must travel at the speed of the slowest.

Simon was about to re-enter the castle, when he saw Agatha hurtling from the gates, her face a tragic mask.

‘My cart! They’ve taken my cart!’

It was a disaster. To think that only yesterday she had been upset at the thought that the priest might leave her here, and now her family’s most valuable possession had been taken. It was hard to think of anything worse, other than that her house might collapse with her and Jen inside.

‘What will become of us?’ she wailed, and fell to her knees. ‘I am ruined! No man to run the house, no cart! How can I provide for my little girl?’ She began to sob with great racking gulps.

The man she knew of as the bailiff was walking towards her. ‘Mistress?’ he called, but she didn’t pay him any attention.

‘Mistress, come,’ Simon said, and put his hand out to her.

‘Get off me!’ she snapped, and beat at his hand. ‘You don’t know what this is like. How could someone like you understand? I have nothing! How can I provide for my little girl, when everything is gone?’

‘I have suffered too,’ Simon said. ‘I lost my house, my daughter . . . But all is well again.’

‘I don’t know what to do,’ she wept.

Simon looked up at the men of the castle who were standing about, and caught Sir Richard de Welles’s eye.

Behind the loud, obstreperous exterior, Sir Richard had a kindly soul. He stood over the woman with a stern expression, and trumpeted, ‘Woman, how far is it to your home?’

‘Many miles.’

‘Your daughter is there waiting for you?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then you should return home to her. But before you go, I will give you a note which will confirm that your cart and horse have been taken by the lord’s purveyors. It is clear that you will have to have a receipt to mark the confiscation. And when the lord’s men return here, if you have any difficulty with them in terms of giving back your cart, you need only speak with the steward here.’

‘They won’t do as I need!’

‘Madam, they will do anything you ask if it means they will not have to answer to me,’ Sir Richard said with calm certainty.

‘I thank you,’ she said, wavering. It was only when she saw Father Luke that she hurried off to tell him too.

Simon eyed the knight with a grin. ‘Can you do that, or were you raising her hopes?’

‘It’ll do her and her daughter no good to be separated. And as coroner, if I tell her that I’ll try to recover her property, so be it. I will.’

‘What was it Baldwin said to you when he was about to ride off?’

Sir Richard’s smile faded. ‘He told me the King – Sir Edward, that is – wants the man Dolwyn freed if possible. God Himself knows why.’

‘You don’t think he was innocent?’