King's Gold

‘I have done,’ Sir Richard said loudly. ‘He will remain in the gaol until I am ready to release him. That will be a long time.’

‘Is there anything you need?’ Baldwin asked.

‘Only sleep, I think. But I thank you. Could you arrange for someone to protect Matteo while I am unwell?’

‘You believe him in danger?’ Baldwin said.

‘Matteo firmly believes Benedetto tried to kill him. I thought it was an irrational fancy, but now I’m less sure. If Matteo is right, Benedetto may succeed. Please, don’t let him.’

‘We will do all we can,’ Baldwin promised. ‘Now rest. My servant will guard your master. However, we need to protect you as well, I think.’

‘Hugh can stay here for now,’ Simon suggested. ‘He will be adequate against the henchmen of a banker.’

The three men left Alured in his chamber.

‘Benedetto must be held until this matter is resolved,’ Baldwin said. ‘Lord Berkeley would not be happy, were he to learn such a fight took place in his castle. He will be angry enough to hear of Sir Jevan’s death.’

‘We cannot keep the banker indefinitely,’ Sir Richard protested.

‘They won’t want him until the Scottish campaign is over,’ Baldwin said with certainty. ‘He can wait until then at least. He should be glad we aren’t placing him in the gaol for his men’s behaviour tonight.’

CHAPTER FIFTY

Willersey

Father Luke sat at the table beside the reeve and ate, although his appetite was flown.

All he had ever wanted to do was protect the souls of his parish. He had no ambition to become a bishop; for him the greatest pleasure in life was to help to save the eternal sparks of life that existed in the people here. They were an amiable group: kindly, generous, happy. They misbehaved occasionally, but there was no rancour in it. He loved them.

He felt as though Agatha had betrayed him.

She was there at the farther end of the hall, sitting with her girl at her side, eating with gusto, as though there was nothing on her conscience. She had not confessed, and that meant that her soul was in mortal danger. If she were to fall into a well tonight, and die unshriven, she would go straight to Hell, without any possibility of redemption. He must not fail her! And yet if she refused to confess, what could he do?

He remained at the table as others drank themselves silly. There were games afterwards: two youths throwing knives at a target on the wall; three men gambling in a corner; one enterprising woman attempting to ply her trade with some of the unmarried men, while wives watched with tart disapproval and Luke with unseeing eyes.

Rising, he made his way from the room. Outside it was dark, and he looked for the moon. It was a large, silvery shape behind clouds, but there was enough light to show him the way to St Peter’s. Inside the church, he used flint and tinder to ignite a scrap or two from which he could light a candle.

‘You guessed, didn’t you?’ came a voice from behind him.

His heart pounded painfully. ‘I did, yes, Agatha. I should have realised sooner, I suppose, but I was always an innocent, as you once told me.’

‘You don’t have to tell anyone.’

That stung. He flung himself around. ‘Do you think that is in my mind, woman? Do you think I care about broadcasting your guilt? My fear is for you, for you and Jen. If you do nothing, you will burn in Hell.’

‘Huh! What do I care of Hell? You tell these stories to make men and women behave, but when have the demons come and taken away a man from the vill? You know of men who have killed, and do they receive punishment? Those men who went with you to Kenilworth, did they get their judgement?’

‘It is not punishment here on earth, Agatha – don’t you see that? After all this time, surely you realise that God is watching you all the while. No matter what you do, He is up there,’ Father Luke said, pointing with a finger. ‘Even now, He is up there, looking down upon you and hoping to save you. But you have committed a grievous crime.’

‘I’ve done nothing wrong. I put down a useless wastrel – the same as killing an injured dog. He meant nothing to me,’ Agatha declared.

‘I don’t believe you. You grow pale as you speak. Come, sit here with me now, on the floor, and let me hear your confession, I beg.’

‘All I wanted was a better life,’ she said, her voice choked. ‘My friend managed that with her husband. What was so special about her that she could have that, while I must struggle and scrape?’

‘We cannot tell what His purpose is, but be assured that her example was there to-’

‘Alice isn’t an example! She’s just luckier, that’s all. She wedded a man who became rich, and now she has servants and maids falling over themselves to do her bidding, while I stay here and work my hands to the bones, and then that useless doddypoll Ham went with you to the castle and came back with nothing.’

‘How did you know?’