29 - The Oath (18 page)

‘I think it’s the King,’ Sir Ralph said, listening intently.

It was. Edward’s speech was short. The entire household was to be disbanded, he said. Sir Hugh, Roger Baldock the Treasurer, and a few of the King’s closest retainers and servants would remain with him, but all others were released from their service.

Sir Ralph had heard the King speak many times, but never with such poignancy and calm honour. Sir Hugh le Despenser stood at his side, head bowed, sometimes pushing a fingernail into his mouth and worrying at it, but for the most part avoiding the looks of all the others ringing them.

The King looked about him as he spoke, smiling and giving occasional nods of encouragement to specific men. ‘My friends, for I can call you all friends, you who have remained so loyal to your King, enduring all the hardships of our journey here, all the trials of the long march from London in so short a time. My friends, I am betrayed. Doubly so. My General, Sir Roger Mortimer, is now my greatest enemy; my Queen, the mother of my children, has turned from me and openly cavorts with Mortimer, of damnèd memory; and as we have marched, none of those from whom I demanded aid has helped us. Even today, I have learned that Leicester has turned from me, and now gives his support to the Queen along with all his retainers. My friends, I fear that my time here is to be ended. I must travel away to gather a new army, and when I do, I shall return to this unhappy kingdom and crush this rebellion. With your help we shall punish all those who seek to thwart my rule and who defy God by rejecting me; and I shall reward handsomely those who have sought to aid me. For
I
am God’s anointed King! I
alone
can rule this realm.
Me
!’

There was a low growl of support from the gathered men, and then, slowly at first, but gathering pace, men slammed their weapons against their shields, or rattled dagger-hilts against their pairs of plates, or simply clapped, until there was so much noise all about that the King could not be heard. He held up a hand, nodding and smiling, and then both hands, high over his head.

‘Friends! Friends, wait! I must board ship now, and I sail for Ireland with my good friend Sir Hugh le Despenser, where I hope to gather up such men as will follow me. I will come back, do not fear. Protect yourselves as you may. Go to your castles, your manors, your peasants, and hold them safely. For when I return, my friends, there will be many rich lands for all of you to share. Those who defy me will find their lands broken up and given away, all their animals slain or passed to you, all their costly silver and plate, all their buildings, all their honours – gone. They will lose all!’

Now the noises reached a peak, and there came a hoarse roar from hundreds of throats as the men began to cheer, weapons waving in the air, enthusiastic in the promise of largesse to come.

‘Sir Hugh’s father, the renowned Earl of Winchester, left this morning, because I have given him a new responsibility: command of all the men of the West Country. He is in charge of the men all about here, including Bristol. So those of you who live far away, go to Bristol to join with him, and protect that city for me. The rest of you, go to your homes and guard them against my return.’

‘All you have to do is prove yourselves loyal and hold on to what you own now,’ Sir Ralph muttered drily. ‘While the Queen and her men wander the land punishing all of you!’

‘Sir Ralph,’ Bernard said, touching his arm.

Sir Ralph followed his gaze. In front of them, the King was walking away down towards the sea, but Sir Hugh le Despenser was still in the same position, and now looking directly at them. As Sir Ralph met his gaze, Despenser raised a hand and beckoned him.

‘Damn. Bernard, take Alexander and Pagan and break our camp. I’ll be back as soon as I may.’

Bristol

Simon had entered many cities in his life, and although this was not the most imposing one, there was something about it that attracted his attention. It seemed neater and better regulated than London, and as he headed with Sir Charles towards the castle, he liked the feeling of airiness about the place. The limewash on the buildings was cleaner, the thatch newer, the streets less smothered with ordure generally. Which could have been the work of the rain over the last weeks, he reminded himself.

‘I like this, I reckon,’ he said to Margaret as they entered the bridge.

This was a smaller version of the great bridge over the Thames at London, with massive stone arches raising the road over the water, while houses and shops thronged the roadside, leaning out over the river on jetties.

They made Simon whistle. ‘Look at them, Meg – wouldn’t you like that? You could sit at your parlour and stare out over the river, watching the shipping. It’d be a little like Dartmouth, but without the fog and the sea pounding at you in winter, or the sailors cursing and swearing all day long. And your privy would be right over it, too. No need to have a box of ashes and empty it over the field every so often.’

She shuddered. ‘No! I’d be constantly worried that the house would topple over and fall into the river, and as for the sailors, the ones who go to the quayside up here would be just as rude and unmannerly as any in Dartmouth, I reckon.’

Simon chuckled. She was a farmer’s daughter, and he would never convince her that life in a city was remotely better than a quiet life in a rural haven. It had been hard enough to persuade her to join him at Lydford when he had been given his job there by the Abbot of Tavistock, Robert Champeaux. Until his death, Abbot Robert had been Simon’s patron in all matters. The kindly gentleman had seen to it that Simon had been promoted to Bailiff of the Stannaries, and then, as an especial reward, he had given Simon the post of Keeper of the Port of Dartmouth – a generous gift which had unfortunately missed its mark, since Simon had no desire to move to the coast and, more to the point, neither did his wife. In the event, the post was only to be short-lived, for the Abbot of blessed memory died quite suddenly and Simon found himself removed, but the sadness at Abbot Robert’s death was tempered by the fact that it helped refresh his marriage, which had been tormented by the inevitable separation while he was based in the south and his wife remained in Lydford.

It was strange to think how much they had both travelled since then. Simon had been to London, to Paris, and many strange places between. Margaret herself had joined him on his last journey, which had proved to be the most dangerous yet, because of the mobs. At least now, they should be safer.

‘Simon, please, join me at the castle for ale,’ Sir Charles said with a laugh. He cantered past them as they walked slowly on their horses up the slight incline towards the castle itself.

‘It is a lovely city,’ Margaret admitted. She smiled at two urchins who ran beside her, begging for coins, found a farthing and threw it to them. One caught it and bowed gravely, while the other danced and skipped.

‘You shouldn’t spoil them,’ Simon grumbled.

‘They will hardly be spoiled for the cost of one farthing,’ Margaret said tartly.

‘If they learn that they can get all they want by begging, they’ll never see the need to work,’ Simon said.

‘Perhaps they will see the advantage of money, and thus learn to love work, husband,’ she replied.

‘And perhaps they will learn to love reward without effort, woman.’

Margaret leaned forward and laid her hand upon his wrist. ‘Are you angry, Simon?’

‘No,’ he smiled.

‘Good, because you are speaking like a horse’s arse, dear,’ she said sweetly.

‘I don’t think—’ he began, but stopped as they turned a corner and saw the castle before them.

The curtain walls were enormous, at least as large as the Tower’s in London, and as befitted the second city in the realm, the castle within was as imposing as the White Tower. However, it was not the sight of the buildings or the enormous walls that stilled them both.

It was the carts, wagons, and men who lined the roadway, waiting to enter the castle with provisions. Simon felt ice invade his bones. He and Meg had seen that selfsame picture only a matter of weeks ago, in London.

‘They think they will soon be under siege!’ Margaret breathed. And the sob in her throat was enough to make Simon’s heart lurch.

Near Chepstow

The ship was an old cog, a round-bellied sow in the best of weather, Sir Ralph of Evesham thought to himself. He hated sailing.

Sir Hugh le Despenser led the way to the gang-plank, and from thence out to the rear of the vessel. There was an ill-fitting door here, that squeaked loudly as it opened, giving access to a small cabin. Sir Hugh walked in, leaving the door wide for Sir Ralph, and went to stand at the window. It was an opening covered with a sheet of waxed parchment that allowed a yellowish-grey light into the chamber, leaving it brighter than it would have been, while keeping the worst of the wind at bay.

‘Sir Ralph,’ he said, ‘we must sail as soon as practicable. We shall take some few men with us. You, I would prefer to remain behind.’

He studied a forefinger, then thrust it into his mouth and worried at the stub of a nail. His nails were already bitten back to the quick, leaving half the bed exposed, and when Sir Ralph glanced at his hand, he saw that there were little red crescents about each nail where he had chewed down too far and made them bleed.

The sight was repugnant. No man should so lose control of himself that he made such a display of weakness. ‘What do you want of me?’ he asked.

‘Today the King will send two friars to meet with the Queen and try to negotiate for the lives of all aboard this ship.’

Both men knew what that meant. The Queen would not have any desire, surely, to murder her husband, nor would she have much against the inoffensive Baldock. She had only ever harboured a detestation for two of the King’s friends: Bishop Walter Stapledon, and Sir Hugh le Despenser. Those two she hated with all the ardour of a lioness who has witnessed the death of her cub. Stapledon had aided others to curb her authority and power, while Despenser had taken away her husband. She would want to see Despenser suffer for all the insults he had offered her in the last six years or more.

‘The friars will return here. We are to try to make our way to Ireland, if we may, and the friars will join us there, with fortune. We would ask that you serve the friars and ensure their safety.’

‘I shall do so, if it be the King’s desire.’

‘It is.’

‘Where shall I bring them afterwards?’

Despenser took his finger from his mouth with an expression of pain. He stared at it a moment, then looked up at Sir Ralph, and for a second or two, Sir Ralph could swear the man had forgotten he was there.

‘I didn’t mean for this, you know,’ he said. ‘I never intended to hurt the king. I love him.’ He put the finger back in his mouth, and turned to face the window.

Speaking with a low, thoughtful tone, he went on: ‘It all began as a simple way to support him. They put me into his household to watch him, you know. Thomas of Lancaster, Walter Stapledon and the others all wanted the King observed so that he could be controlled. But Bishop Walter and I disagreed with the whole idea when it became clear that Earl Thomas wanted to control him. What right did we have to keep an eye on him all the time? None. So soon after I was made Chamberlain, I began to learn how to help him. He is a kind man, you know?’

He turned as though seeking support. Sir Ralph had little idea what to do, so he nodded his head. It seemed sufficient, and the King’s closest adviser turned back to the window.

‘I gradually began to win his trust. And we discovered a closer friendship, too. A mutual affection. It was little more than that, I swear. But we have similar interests; fascinations. Why should we not? And I have enriched myself, but that is no crime. All before me in the same position have taken what they can, just as I have, and just as any will do after I am dead. Any man who doesn’t enrich himself when he may, is a fool.’

‘I think I need to join my men.’

‘I’m finished, aren’t I?’ Despenser said suddenly. He turned from the window and seated himself in a little chair. ‘There’s nothing we can do. If we raise a host of men from Ireland, will we be able to bring them back here? I doubt me that. And if we do, there will be a bloodbath, and the people of England would never forgive me, nor the King, for the waste of English blood. That
bitch
has managed all without killing a single man. She landed without dispute, runs about the country without hindrance, and soon she will be here and will have taken the whole kingdom.’

‘If the King were to hold his banner against her, perhaps her allies would refuse to fight him,’ Sir Ralph said. ‘Just as during the Marcher Wars. The Lords Marcher would not lift their standards against his. All submitted.’

‘That was then. This is now. She has already put money on my head, did you know that? The impudence of the bitch! She dared to offer money for my capture, yet she is the invader. But her men are all from Hainault, and they will obey her, the daughter of the King of France, rather than bow to King Edward of England on his own land.’

‘Perhaps so.’

‘So I will be exiled. I’ll have to go to the Holy Roman Empire or beyond, to avoid her clutches, and those of her brother. I shall become a wanderer without home or property. And Mortimer, her lover, will win all he wants. His family has beaten mine at the end.’