King's Gold

‘Yes. It’s Matteo Bardi,’ Simon said. ‘He’s watching and listening to them, isn’t he? And he did accuse his brother of trying to kill him. Do you think Benedetto and Sir Jevan could be in league?’

Willersey

Father Luke had never been so glad to return to his church. Travel, he thought, may broaden the mind, but for him, remaining here in his vill was infinitely better. The whole journey had been a disaster. He had learned that his bishop viewed him as a vile womaniser, just because he had tried to help a widowed parishioner in need. And then the wretched castle at Berkeley, with the lord and his men keen to steal what they could. A horse and cart were useful items – and the fact that the thief Dolwyn of Guildford had dropped them into the lord’s lap made them only more attractive.

At least poor Agatha had her note from the kindly knight Richard de Welles, and he had promised to ensure that she did recover her property later. That was good. At least that knight was honourable, Luke thought to himself.

He was in his meagre garden, weeding and pulling the snails and slugs from his lettuces. It was good to bend and work like this, revelling in the sunshine and thanking God all the while for His bounty. At last, Father Luke felt that he was regaining a little of his composure.

Looking up, he saw Jen at the door to her house, a large pail of water from the well in her hand. She looked, if anything, more pale and fearful than ever, the poor child. She had been blooming before her father’s death, but his dying had changed her for ever. Any child would miss her father if he was taken from her prematurely, but to see his murdered body, with the axe still in his head . . . that must have been traumatic.

He saw her glance in his direction – a pale, seven-year-old child, skinny from lack of food, with eyes as wide as a puppy’s waiting for a thrashing, before she quietly slipped into her house.

Yes, it was terribly sad to see her in that state. He would pray for her. No young girl should suffer so much.

Berkeley Castle

Simon hailed the two as he and Sir Richard descended the stairs. ‘Sir Jevan, Master Bardi. Could we speak with you a moment?’

Sir Richard smiled widely at the sight of the two men. Sir Jevan was a smaller man than him, but very wiry. He would be a tough opponent, Sir Richard felt sure, if they were to come to blows.

Sir Jevan snapped, ‘Yes? What do you want?’

Simon pulled a face. ‘It is a difficult question to pose. You see, I have been discussing with the good knight here a troublesome matter.’

‘My friend is reluctant to mention it,’ Sir Richard said. ‘Sir Jevan, it’s said that you were in London at the time of the rioting last year. That right?’

‘Yes.’

‘And you went to have a meeting with this man, too,’ he gestured to Benedetto, ‘because you were arranging finance for the Queen, so we’ve heard. Nothin’ wrong with that. But the same day, a couple of youngsters were killed behind your house, Master Benedetto. Did you hear of that?’

‘Was it the same day?’ Benedetto enquired. He had a well-meaning smile on his face that Sir Richard did not trust for a moment. ‘I heard of their deaths, of course, but did not realise they had occurred on that very day. A terrible time. My brother was killed there, too.’

‘Yes,’ Sir Richard said without hesitation. Alured had told Simon it was the same day, and he was unlikely to have got it wrong. In one day, Alured had found rioters, seen the Bardi house invaded, found Matteo lying on the ground, and then discovered the two dead bodies. Sir Richard found such testimony convincing.

‘I don’t remember it distinctly,’ Benedetto said.

‘What of it?’ Sir Jevan barked.

‘There was a man seen with the two youngsters. He killed them. The witness said he wore good, Cordovan leather boots of a dark reddish-brown, with tassels to match,’ Simon said. He looked down at the tunic of Sir Jevan.

‘Half London wears good leather from Cordova,’ the knight said without lifting the hem of his tunic.

‘Perhaps so. However, half London was not in the area on that day,’ Simon said.

‘Do you accuse me?’ Sir Jevan said, taking a small step nearer.

‘I ask: was it you who killed these two young people?’ Simon demanded.

‘He was with me that day,’ Benedetto interjected.

Sir Jevan eyed Simon. ‘I do not recall the details of that day, but I do remember that there were many men running hither and thither. Any of them could have been a murderer, and yet you dare to suggest I had something to do with this crime? Your presumption is astonishing!’

‘Do you deny it, then?’ Sir Richard demanded bluntly.

‘Show me the fool who dares accuse me,’ Sir Jevan said. ‘I will see him in court, and he will pay for his presumption!’

Sir Richard watched as he stormed away.

Simon looked at him. ‘Well?’

‘He did it,’ Sir Richard said without hesitation. ‘And so now I think we should be cautious, my friend. A man like him should be treated with care.’

Simon nodded. Then, ‘I will warn Alured, too. He should beware of Sir Jevan’s temper.’