King's Gold

‘Sir Roger suggested Berkeley Castle. It’s safer. It’s a pleasant place-’

Edward rasped, ‘It is a charmless hovel with views of bog and marsh. It has little to redeem it, most particularly as it is the seat of the Berkeley family.’

‘They’re honourable men.’

‘By their own lights. They are also allies of Mortimer. Lord de Berkeley is his son-in-law, and he is my sworn enemy.’

‘Sir Roger commands me to escort you there. I am sorry, these are my orders.’

‘What would the world be if a serf did not carry out his orders? Tell me: if you were ordered to kill me, would you obey that, too?’

‘My . . . Please, I-’

‘Would you feel happier to thrust a knife into my bowels here? Now?’ Edward said, holding his hand to his belly. ‘If your esteemed Sir Roger, the traitor, were to command it, would you do his bidding?’

The steward stepped forward as though to protect him, but Edward waved him back.

‘He is honourable,’ Gilbert said miserably. ‘Murder would be-’

‘You think Mortimer has not considered such a contingency? He has thought of transporting me from Kenilworth, in which there are few who bear me ill-will, and instead install me in the castle of his friend and ally. I like this not, master. I consider this a most ungenerous suggestion. If I could guess, I would say that Berkeley is likely where I shall die.’

He spoke the truth. In his mind’s eye the castle of the Berkeleys was draped in a perpetual twilight, a foul black outline against the sky like a tomb. His tomb.

A thought struck him. ‘How did he know of the attack? Is he here?’

‘No. He is a day’s ride away, in Wales. But a strange thing happened two days ago. A man masquerading as a messenger came to the castle. He escaped before I could catch him, but I deemed it necessary to let Sir Roger know.’

Edward could have cursed. So Dolwyn had been seen! He tried to sound off-hand, but only succeeded in peevishness. ‘So, a man tried to harm me, and you’ll send me to the man who wishes me dead?’

‘You’ll be better guarded there than here.’

‘By the son-in-law of Sir Roger Mortimer himself. Yes, I will be well guarded. To the death.’

‘I shall ride to Berkeley with you, if it would please you.’

‘So, my gaoler and those whom he selects shall take me to my death. How reassuring!’

‘My lord,’ Gilbert coughed, ‘if it would help, is there someone I could have join us to protect you on the way? A man or two whom you would trust?’

Edward of Caernarfon passed a hand over his eyes. ‘Someone from our kingdom to protect me? Whom should I ask, I wonder.’

He went silent. There were two men who had proved their valour to him, out on that pasturage in Wales just before his capture: he saw his steward fall, his body cloven by a sword, he saw the men pounding towards him on their great destriers, and he saw the two who strove to get between him and his enemies. Two knights, one with the black beard that followed the line of his chin, the other with the serious eyes that watched so carefully.

He gave the guard their names: Sir Baldwin de Furnshill and Sir Ralph of Evesham. ‘If you can win these two men for my party, I shall agree to go wheresoever you wish to take me,’ he said.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Wednesday before the Feast of the Annunciation

Bubenall

Father Luke peered out from the little barn in which he had passed his second night up north of Kenilworth. It was a clear, cool dawn, and the grass was bejewelled with dew. Luke would normally have felt his heart lighten at the sight, but not any longer.

The battle two days ago had shocked him to his core. In the past he had imagined what a battle might look like, but never had he thought to witness one. It was hideous.

Luke had stood gaping, only dimly aware of his own danger, as other men were shot down. It was only when an arrow fell with a loud thwock into the ground near him, the clothyard quivering, that he too fled.

He was over the causeway when he heard the rumble of pursuing horses and knew that his ordeal was not yet over. In terror, he hurled himself into a muddy ditch, pulling his cowl over his head and praying with a desperation he had not known since he was a child. His urgent entreaties appeared to work. The posse of men-at-arms galloped past him, the men screaming their war cries.

As the terrible hoofbeats died away, Luke sat up cautiously, dripping, and watched with horror as the riders caught up with the small group of fleeing attackers. He saw weapons slashing, and then there came a great paean of fierce joy as they trampled the bodies with their hooves, making sure of all their victims. But they had not forgotten the two on horseback, and soon the party was off again.