King's Gold

‘Well?’ she repeated. ‘What did he say?’

‘He said, if I thought he had time enough on his hands to call on the posse and organise a search for one cart and one horse, no matter what was on the cart, I was a fool and didn’t deserve my living at Willersey. He let me understand that if I didn’t find enough to occupy me there, he would find someone else who would be happy to take my place, and further, there were posts in much colder, less pleasant places, where recalcitrant priests could be sent. Then he told me that if no one had reported the theft of the horse and cart when Ham was found, perhaps neither was there in the first place. And if it was true that a horse and cart were stolen, then the vill had been trying to evade their fair taxes.’

‘Did you tell him about the money?’

He looked at her. ‘You see this church?’ he asked rhetorically. ‘It costs a lot to run. If he heard of any money, that would be the last the vill would see of it.’

‘Oh.’ She sighed. At least that meant that only she and Father Luke knew of it. The secret was safe. ‘So we must return, then?’ she wondered. And then what – just leave the cart to whoever had stolen it?

‘I will not,’ Father Luke said. ‘The good Bishop has no time for such matters, but your husband is dead. The man who committed that murder and stole your cart and horse deserves punishment.’

‘What now, then?’

Father Luke stared at the altar as though seeking inspiration. Slowly, he said, ‘We could go to our lord and beg his aid.’

‘To Berkeley?’

‘Yes. My Lord Berkeley owns our manor. It would be reasonable for him to send men to hunt down this thief and murderer.’

She looked at him, and then slowly nodded. ‘If you are sure.’

‘I am.’ His face showed a stern determination. Agatha could not see that within his soul, he seethed at the way the Bishop had spoken to him.

‘Why do you seek this cart, Father?’ the Bishop had demanded satirically. ‘What is so fascinating about it?’

‘It is a matter of distress to Ham’s widow,’ Father Luke said.

‘Ah, see – and is this widow buxom? Has she a good broad hip to take hold of?’ the Bishop laughed.

‘My Lord Bishop, she is only recently widowed, and besides, my vows would not permit me to consider her in that light!’

‘So you say, so you say,’ the Bishop said easily. He had a mazer full of wine, and now he drained it, studying Luke over the brim. ‘But you listen to me, good Father Luke. I will not have my priests attempting to take advantage of the women in their care, you understand? If I hear you’ve been trying to get under her skirts, you will find yourself in my gaol faster than a drawlatch on Christmas Day.’

Agatha caught a little of his black mood. ‘What did he say to you?’

‘Nothing that matters,’ he lied. He had seen the clerk and asked that a priest be sent to Willersey for some days while he was away. He hoped only for a matter of a week or so, but it was impossible to say. ‘What does matter is that we should make our way down to Berkeley now. It should only take us two or three days. And there, with fortune, we may be granted a little justice.’

Friday before Palm Sunday

Near Tidintune

Harry le Cur heard the man roll over. There was a quiet moment, in which Dolwyn opened his eyes and glanced about him, and then he tried to sit up, and groaned loudly.

‘You should rest yourself,’ Harry said. He walked over to stand at Dolwyn’s side. ‘You’ve been very ill.’

‘It feels like I’ve been squashed against a wall by an ox,’ Dolwyn said gruffly. ‘My whole body aches.’

‘Aye, well, you should be glad you have any feeling. You ought to be dead,’ Harry said.

‘What happened?’

‘You were stabbed in the side, remember? We came across you in the road, but you collapsed. We’re lucky that the woman here was prepared to help and nurse you. She saved your life.’

‘I am grateful,’ he said. His eyes were still dulled with the fever that had ravaged his body for the last days. ‘Is she here?’

‘She sleeps,’ Harry said, pointing to the palliasse on the floor a few yards away. Helen was exhausted and deeply asleep, snoring very faintly and whistling. ‘She’s nursed you for three days. Without her, you would have died.’

Dolwyn nodded and sank back on his bedding. He shivered slightly, and pulled a blanket up over his body. ‘You said three days?’

‘Yes.’

‘That cannot be.’

Harry looked down at him. ‘You can take my word on it.’

‘But I must get away!’

‘To deliver your weapons?’

Dolwyn went quiet, watching like a rabbit who fears the snare. ‘Weapons?’

‘We found everything. Why would a carter have need of so many weapons?’

‘I don’t think . . .’

‘It interests us. But I suppose it’s none of our business.’ Harry looked at him doubtfully. ‘We found a casket there, too. Filled with riches beyond my dreams – and my dreams are vivid.’

‘It isn’t mine,’ Dolwyn stated blankly. Riches? A treasure? Who had put that there?

‘I was sure of that already,’ Harry said drily.