King's Gold

A clerk in Holy Orders could help a widow. He had a duty to each member of his flock. A priest was educated, he would understand the courts and help her to win the justice she needed. From all she had heard, Father Luke had an interest in finding the cart, too.

She had seen the tyre marks of a cart when she went and looked. The tracks were some distance from Ham’s body, but distinctive. Even days after his death, they were plain on the ground. She knew that he had done as he usually did: hobbled the horse, set the cart in a quiet, hidden place among trees, and then gone to sleep a short way away.

Someone had found the cart, or discovered the horse hobbling about, and took them, together with all the valuables on the back of the cart. Well, Agatha wanted them all back.

She heard the priest knocking on her door and calling. It took her no time at all to kiss Jen, make her promise to listen to the other adults in the vill, and to see the neighbours if she had any difficulties, then collect her food and drink, wrapped in a large square of muslin, and join the priest at the door.

‘You are sure you wish to do this, mistress?’ he asked hopefully. He would prefer to avoid another walk.

‘Of course I am,’ she snapped. ‘I have to look after us now that Ham’s dead, don’t I?’

Father Luke nodded sadly. The journey to Worcester was a long one, and he had already endured enough travelling to last him many years. Even the prospect of a pilgrimage to Canterbury, which he had until recently viewed with enthusiasm, was not to be borne. No, if he could, he would remain here in Willersey for the remainder of his days.

‘Come on!’ she called. ‘If we don’t leave now we’ll never get anywhere.’

He glanced about him at the little vill as she set off, stumping heavily up the roadway. Jen stood in the doorway, her hands on the doorpost, staring wide-eyed after her mother, like a child who feared she would soon be orphaned.

All her confidence was gone now, Father Luke saw. The little girl who only a few weeks ago had continually surprised him with her maturity and intellect, was lost. With her father gone, she had realised that the world was infinitely more dangerous than she could ever have foreseen.

He set his jaw, took his staff, and moved off after Agatha, filled with a grim resolution. He would find that damned cart, and the chest – and he would keep it. The man who had been King had no use for the money, for it would not change his life one whit, but here, in this vill, it could work a wonder. It could even save that little girl from living in fear.

Somehow, he would find that money.

Kenilworth

Matteo walked down to the yard as Lord Berkeley’s men gathered there. The lord was giving orders to his men, and Matteo bowed as he presented the indenture.

‘My lord, this is for you. It is the authorisation for you to take Sir Edward of Caernarfon to your own castle.’

Lord Thomas took the parchment and opened it. ‘Good. Where is the Earl?’

‘He is away,’ Gilbert said reluctantly. He had been standing over at the entrance to the hall, but now he stepped forward. ‘May I help you, my lord?’

‘This is an indenture for the release of Sir Edward into my hands. I am to take him to Berkeley,’ Lord Thomas said pleasantly. ‘It is signed by the King.’

‘My lord, I have no . . . Please, can you wait until my lord the Earl returns? He should only be a little while longer, and I am sure-’

‘I have urgent business,’ Lord Thomas said tersely. ‘Prepare Sir Edward for his departure.’

‘My lord, I-’

‘At once.’

‘My lord, I do not think you should attempt to remove Sir Edward until Earl Henry has viewed the indenture,’ Sir Jevan said.

‘You are?’

‘My name is Sir Jevan de Bromfield.’

‘You are a household knight of the Earl of Lancaster? I am glad to meet you, Sir Jevan. However, I have been ordered in the name of the King to remove Sir Edward for his own protection. It seems that the defences here were insufficient. Perhaps that was intentional – I don’t know. However, my task is bring Sir Edward to safety and that, Sir Jevan, I shall do. If you wish to thwart me and my men, I think you will find it difficult.’

Thursday before Palm Sunday

Kenilworth Castle

‘Morning, Master Puttock. How are ye this morning, eh? It’s a fine morning for a sore head, I daresay. Good God, breathe that air. Makes you glad to be alive, hey?’

Simon heard Sir Richard approach from the far side of the outer ward where the good knight had been glancing over his rounsey, and now he nudged Simon with a beaming smile. ‘Bad head, eh? I know what it’s like. You need a quick cup of strong ale to settle your stomach, man, that’s all.’