King's Gold

Second Tuesday after Easter

Berkeley Castle

The screams rose like those of a tormented banshee, and Dolwyn threw himself from his bench with the swift reactions of a man used to danger. He rolled to the corner of the wall, his fingers gripping his sword already, the blade a wicked grey blur in the air before him, his mouth slightly open as he listened intently.

‘What in God’s name was that?’ Harry whispered from the farther corner of the chamber.

‘My friend, I do not want to find out on my own,’ Senchet muttered from between the two.

They had taken this room for their own after the lord had ridden off to meet King Edward III. It was a good-sized room in the castle’s keep, with the added advantage that it was far enough from the guard rooms to leave them feeling safe from a possible stab in the dark, and the door had a lock that worked, and two bolts.

Dolwyn went to the door now, and tested the bolts. They opened smoothly. He had spread some butter thickly on them last week to make sure that he could slide them silently, and now that effort paid off. Without speaking, he pulled the door open and glanced out. ‘No one there. Come on!’ he whispered, and darted out.

He stepped quietly along the narrow passageway, listening. The screams came from farther up, and he moved cautiously, his feet finding the stone flags and testing each before he continued. The hairs on his neck rose, and he felt as though there was a band of steel wrapped about his breast, contracting with every step until to breathe was an agony.

Another ungodly shriek. Dolwyn felt sure that his lungs would burst with the strain – and then he saw a glimmer of grey in the corridor before him: a window, with the glorious bright moon illuminating the way. He pelted across the last of the stones and reached the window, feeling the cool night air flood his body, and then, as the next scream shivered through the very stones of the castle, he took courage and ran onwards, hearing Harry and Senchet close behind him.

He knew this place. It was a part of the tower where the outer walls had weakened and fallen. Below in the yard was the place where the labourers and masons slept, in tents and lean-to buildings. There were pieces of masonry all about, and he stumbled on rock chips as he went, searching for the source of those horrible screams.

When he saw the body, it was only the legs at first. They protruded, still kicking, from between two walls of rock, where the man had been deposited. Blood lay all around, and Dolwyn’s feet slipped on it as the man struggled and thrashed about desperate to keep a hold of his life.

Road near Stoke-on-Trent

They had made good time in a week, John of Shulton thought as he stirred himself from his bed that morning and peered about him in the gloom of a foggy day.

He had caught up with the lord’s men in only an hour or so of moderate riding, since the column was travelling slowly with so many carts and wagons in its train. Once there, he had made his way to Sir Baldwin, as being the most friendly face he knew. The knight nodded to him amicably enough, but Edgar’s smile was a warm welcome to John, who felt so lonely still.

As he gradually eased himself upwards, he winced with the stiffness that came from sleeping in the open air.

‘You slept soundly,’ Edgar said. He was already squatting at the side of a small fire. Others in the camp had fires, too, but Edgar’s was the only one which did not spit fitfully and smoke. Instead there were good flames licking upwards from the few sticks and chopped logs, and already he was about to set a pot on top to warm some water before making some soft bread.

‘Don’t I always?’ John said with a smile.

‘Not usually, no. It seems you are easier in your mind the further you are from Berkeley. Or the monk from near Gloucester.’

John felt a little silver of ice pass down his neck. ‘Really?’

‘Friend, I have no idea what you hurry from, but now you are joining us on a different adventure. We ride to war. There is no time for doubts and anxiety in battle. So whatever you flee, you are safe here.’

John tried to take comfort in Edgar’s words, but all he could see in his mind’s eye was Sir Jevan’s face – and that was no comfort at all.

Berkeley Castle

The castle had soon been roused and almost at once men had grabbed Dolwyn, Harry and Senchet, and thrown them against the wall.

‘We found him here,’ Dolwyn protested. ‘I was just First Finder – I didn’t hurt him, nor anyone else, either. Let me go!’

But his words were in vain. As he and the other two were forced back, swords at their throats, more men arrived, gazing down in horror as the light entered the corridor with the rising sun.

‘WHAT IS ALL THIS?’ Sir Richard demanded as he barged his way through the press. ‘Man killed, eh? Who is it? And who did for him? Where’s the First Finder?’