King's Gold

Under Baldwin’s incessant demands, however, the majority of the rebuilding works had been completed. The labourers and masons were working with less urgency now that the main weaknesses were restored to their earlier strength.

‘Look at it,’ Baldwin had said to Simon the day before. ‘I would almost wish that they would try to storm the castle now. Never was a fortress so quickly renewed to its former power. Those masons deserve a good portion of the money held here for their efforts.’

Simon could not dispute his words. The men had worked really hard. Even those who were unused to stone workings, such as the four who had arrived from the vill to the north, had slaved with the rest.

He saw Senchet and Harry over towards the keep’s main entrance, and was idly wondering about going to talk to them, when he heard hoofbeats outside. They were galloping wildly, and now a guard on the ramparts was calling down to the gatekeeper, and the three men with polearms at the gate walked out to intercept the rider. There was still a strict control on any new people coming into the castle.

Soon there was an excited babbling at the gate, and Simon hurried over to learn what he could.

There was a young man of perhaps four-and-twenty, lolling in his saddle with exhaustion. His horse was all but blown, and it was clear that they had ridden for miles.

‘What is it?’ Simon demanded, looking up at the fellow.

‘This man says that the Dunheved brothers and their gang have been causing more riots,’ the gatekeeper explained, ‘but this time in Chester!’

Simon, who had at best only a rudimentary understanding of the realm, asked, ‘Where is that?’

‘Sir, it must be fifty leagues from here. About a hundred and fifty miles.’

‘Yes?’

His incomprehension only served to delight the happy gatekeeper. ‘Sir, if the gang is raising Cain a hundred and fifty miles away, they aren’t down here readying themselves to attack us, are they?’

CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

The Feast of Corpus Christi

Berkeley Castle

It was happy, that feast day. Father Luke joined in the festivities, Simon was glad to see, and even the grim-faced Benedetto unbent a little and managed to smile as the minstrels entered and began to play for the company’s pleasure.

‘It does me heart good to hear music,’ Sir Richard said, leaning back in his seat with a contented sigh. The little maid was a short distance away, and she moved nearer to serve him with more wine whenever he held his mazer out. Simon shook his head once more in honest bemusement at the effect the hoary old warrior had upon even the prettiest young maids. It was, as other members of the garrison were fond of repeating, ‘Not fair.’

But for now, no one cared. All had taken the feast day to heart, especially since the messengers Baldwin had sent to Gloucester, to Tewkesbury and farther afield, had started to return with the news that there was no longer any signs of the Dunheved brothers in the vicinity. Their murderous plundering appeared to have ceased, and all the lands about seemed empty. King’s Wood, Michael Wood, the Heath, and even Berkeley Vale were searched and the local villeins interrogated about any gangs of wild men in the area, but all the answers came back that the whole of the lands about Berkeley were clear. The gangs had disappeared as completely as a summer’s mist.

The men in the garrison were celebrating; even now they were close to cheerful rioting. It was best, Baldwin said, to allow them to let off a little steam after the last tense weeks. Now that there was no apparent danger, tonight the men-at-arms were permitted more licence than usual, and Sir Richard was keeping his maid close at hand to protect her from drunken fumblings or worse.

‘Master Puttock,’ Benedetto said, leaning towards Simon. It was fortunate that his wound was only shallow. Matteo’s blade had missed its target, and Benedetto’s rib had been scored, instead of his heart. Now, although sore and in some pain, he had begun to recover: his eye was clear and his manner sober, for all that he had drunk more than a pint of wine already. ‘Do you think it would be safe for me to leave the castle? Would I be able to make my way to Oxford and thence to London, do you think?’

‘I would think so, yes,’ Simon said. He looked further along the tables until he saw the man with the bandage about his face. ‘Why do you not take Alured with you? He is a loyal and resourceful fellow, from all I have heard. And Dolwyn, of course. Both would help you on your way.’

‘Perhaps so. Yes, I shall think of that. They are both good fighters, and that is what I need now.’

‘You should have less need of their fighting skills, but it is always best to plan for the worst,’ Simon agreed. ‘But you must wait here and rest. You cannot ride with that wound.’

‘It is little more than a scratch.’