King's Gold

He rode in under the gatehouse with Edgar close at his side, Wolf lumbering along behind them. John had been with them until the day before, but then, during the morning, he had told Baldwin that he was unwell. It was true that he looked very pale and jittery, but to Baldwin, it looked as though the man was scared. To put it bluntly: petrified. Of what, Baldwin had no idea, but he was persuaded that it was something or someone to do with the castle.

Whatever the reason, Baldwin was of no mind to drag him back to Berkeley if he was unwilling. He was happy to let the fellow go and continue alone with Edgar.

Simon was in the court with his servant Hugh when Baldwin clattered into the yard.

‘Good God, Baldwin!’ Simon exclaimed, his face wiped free of the look of introspection that had clouded it. ‘It is good to see you, old friend.’

In a short time they were inside the hall with mazers of wine in their hands.

‘So, what brought you back before the muster?’ Simon asked.

Baldwin told him about the fight with the Scots. ‘They were from Donald of Mar. Since they were heading south, Lord Berkeley felt that they could be gathering in order to try to free Sir Edward.’

Simon nodded doubtfully. ‘Rebels made an attempt on Kenilworth, and were slaughtered. They must be lunatic to try it here as well.’

‘But everyone will know that the garrison here has been denuded and that Lord Berkeley is away. They may well try again. So we must improve the defences in the time we have.’

‘How long is that, do you think?’ Simon asked.

‘My friend, I have no idea,’ Baldwin said frankly. ‘It could be a week, it could be a month. Not much more, though, I would think. The Earl of Mar will want the advantage of surprise.’

Simon nodded bleakly.

‘Simon, what is it that clouds your face so?’ Baldwin asked. ‘You looked glum as I rode in.’

‘Sir Jevan was slain a little over a week ago,’ Simon told him.

Baldwin gave a frown. ‘Do you have any idea who was the killer?’

Simon shook his head. ‘There was no witness, no indication as to who could have committed the crime. Only the fact that an axe was used. Perhaps that-’

But Baldwin was ahead of him. ‘Any man who sought to show it was the same person as he who killed the carter would do that. The woman and the priest from the vill are both gone, are they not?’

‘Yes.’

Baldwin nodded slowly. ‘Then I think that for now Dolwyn and his friends cannot be released. But we need not see them languish in the gloom and cold of a dank cell. We should devote our efforts to the protection of this castle, and they can help. Perhaps once that is achieved, we can return to this matter again.’

Willersey

The day was a dull one. There was no rain, but it might as well have been pouring, from the priest’s mood.

His garden had been invaded by slugs which had eaten the majority of his lettuces and peas, caterpillars had taken refuge in his cabbages, and before he could deal with any or all of them, he had been called to listen to the last confession of a farmer up in the shadow of the hill. The fool had been trying to separate a calf from its mother, and had been gored by her. Nobody thought he could survive more than a few hours.

Father Luke returned to the vill with a conviction that the world was not functioning as it ought. Only a few days ago he had been a contented man with many blessings to count, and now he felt as though his life was an abject failure. He had lost the King’s money, he had lost a pair of good fellows from his flock, and no matter what he tried, he was not able to console Jen.

Only this morning he had seen the poor child looking desolate. Perhaps, he wondered, he ought to speak with Agatha about her? But the widow was already doing all she could, and did not need his interference. No, he was better leaving her and the child alone, surely, and allowing them to find their own way to peace.

At the same time he still had John’s confession on his mind. He recalled how he had thought John such a pleasant fellow when he first met him – a cheerful soul with the smile of a rogue, he had thought. Little had he realised that John would become devoted to homicide: to murdering Sir Edward of Caernarfon.

Berkeley Castle

The discussion with Sir Richard and Simon Puttock had been intriguing to Sir Ralph. However, it was a matter of days ago now. They had not succeeded in capturing the murderer, and he wondered whether they ever would.

Sir Jevan had not been a congenial companion, and Sir Ralph did not bemoan his passing, but he took a keen interest in any issues that could lead to danger to his charge. If a murderer stalked the castle, he would wish to see the man apprehended.

Sir Edward himself was difficult in the mornings with a sore head, and grew more amiable as the day progressed. There was, indeed, little to occupy him now that the common pursuits of chivalry were denied him. But no matter what, Sir Ralph did agree with Gilbert that to allow the King to leave the castle to ride would present untold dangers.