Michael Jecks - The Prophecy of Death

All of which was frustrating. But there was nothing he could do about it, and besides, he was in no hurry personally. Jack idled the early morning away, watching the preparations with some amusement.

Until, that is, he saw the man in a herald’s uniform.

Lydford

‘How could he have let the bastard loose?’ Simon demanded. He clenched a fist and slammed it into his cupped hand. ‘Sweet Jesus! Didn’t he know the bastard would be a threat to us?’

The messenger from the Bishop stood, somewhat disconcerted by the reaction to his news, and immediately Wolf grumbled deep in his throat. The man looked at him, alarmed. ‘I was only asked to come and tell-’

Baldwin shook his head at the man, and held out both hands soothingly. ‘Simon, be calm! Wolf! Silent!’

‘My love,’ Margaret said, pale but calm, ‘he is an old friend. I feel sure he would never knowingly put us in danger. He knows us all so well, and he is so kindly towards us. Can you imagine him willingly hurting us or our children? Of course not!’

‘Whether he intended it or not is irrelevant, Meg,’ Simon said harshly. ‘That goat-swyving churl is a danger to us while he lives, if he remains with his master and in Despenser’s service.’

She was silent as he stalked away and stared from the window.

‘I begin to wonder whether the Bishop is truly our friend,’ he said, and there was a cold tone to his voice she hadn’t heard before.

She turned to the messenger. ‘Was there anything else the good bishop wished us to know?’

‘Like I say, he has released the man Wattere, but only because Sir Hugh le Despenser has asked for his man to be sent back to him so that his transgressions may be investigated.’

‘I suppose Bishop Walter couldn’t do that himself in Exeter?’

‘Simon!’ Margaret snapped. ‘Let the man finish!’

‘He has been taken by the Bishop with his entourage. The Bishop has been summoned to advise the King in Westminster. He told me to tell you that it is a matter of grave importance about the affairs in France. And he said to tell you that the man will not be likely to come here to trouble you. He will remain with the Bishop all the way to London.’

‘How reassuring!’

She hated seeing her husband like this. It was unnecessary; pointless. She had been nervous, of course, when the horrible man had turned up and threatened her. It wasn’t something she was used to, having been a bailiff’s wife for so long. People usually tended to show her and her family respect. But perhaps this was just a sign of the troubles to come.

Simon and she had known that when the Abbot of Tavistock died, it was possible that their lives could become more difficult, for Simon had already been sent to Dartmouth to work, ironically, as a kind gesture by Abbot Champeaux, who thought he was rewarding Simon for all his work in the past years. Sadly, though, it was the worst thing he could have done. It split their family, and made it extremely difficult for Simon to maintain contact with their children. Let alone the debilitating effect it had on his relationship with Meg herself. When she heard that poor Abbot Robert had died, she was slightly relieved to hear it. She knew that with Abbot Robert gone, there would be a change in power at the abbey which must inevitably lead to Simon being asked to give up his post on the coast.

As had happened. However, she had not been prepared for the fact that both of the protagonists seeking the abbacy might try to put someone in Simon’s place on the moors as well. If he were not to have his old post as bailiff, when he had already lost his position at Dartmouth, then what would they do for money? It was hard to tell. Perhaps he would be forced to leave this area completely?

At least Simon was not a serf of the abbey. He was one of Sir Hugh de Courtenay’s men, so he could leave here whenever he wanted, and they could return to their farm, if need be. The little farm near Sandford. It would be a shame to leave this house. She had been very happy here — but the farm was a good property, too. It had been a wrench when she had first been told that Simon had won the post at Lydford. With a sad little smile, she could now remind herself that she had not wanted to come here. It was odd how attitudes could change.

It was Jeanne who tried to placate him now. ‘He tries to be your friend.’

‘You don’t understand,’ Simon said.

‘I think she understands better than you, Simon,’ Baldwin said.

‘What does that mean?’ Simon demanded.

Margaret said, ‘Surely if Despenser’s demanded the release of his man, the Bishop can hardly refuse? The Despenser is the most powerful man in the country after the King, you keep telling me.’

‘He is, yes, but the Bishop must be almost as powerful. The King listens to him, and-’

‘There is no “and”, Simon,’ Baldwin said. ‘You were in London with me. You saw how the King deferred to Despenser. The two are close. Very close. And the good bishop has little power compared with Sir Hugh.’

Simon turned to face him. His face showed his bitterness and concern. Margaret would almost have called it fear. ‘You want me to just accept it, then? Should I give up my home here? Make a gift of it to Despenser? What is it to him, after all? The man has so much, so many houses, castles, entire provinces! What does he want with this little place?’

Margaret shook her head. ‘He doesn’t care about the size. From all you’ve said, he’s like a hound who feeds until he cannot eat more. He won’t stop eating because he’s full, because he doesn’t know when he can gorge again; in the same way Despenser won’t stop stealing all he can because he doesn’t know how to. While he is in a position to, he will seek to continue taking all he can.’

She stopped and looked about her. This little house had been her delight. She still loved it. That screen she had had built a while ago, a neat, wooden construction that kept their private chambers beyond warmer and less draughty. She had had paintings on the wall, one of St Rumon, the patron saint of the Abbey at Tavistock, and one of St Boniface of Crediton, to remind them always where they had come from, where they had been so happy. This had been her home for almost ten years. It was a long time. Hard to give it all up. But better that than find a man like Wattere appearing again.

‘No man just keeps stealing for the fun of making mischief, though,’ her husband was saying.

‘But, Husband, he isn’t. He is doing this to upset you, as he has succeeded, and to upset Baldwin through you,’ she said. ‘Why else would he do this?’

Simon stopped and stared at her. It was Baldwin who responded, though.

‘I think you are quite right, Margaret.’

‘What can we do, then, Baldwin?’ Simon said. ‘If you two are correct, and the evil bastard son of a whore is trying to anger you and me, what should I do?’

‘Well, there is little point arguing with his henchman,’ Baldwin said. ‘It is he alone who can prevent any further problems.’

‘But would he? He hates us both, so he’ll hardly want to help us, will he? He could deny all knowledge of Wattere’s actions, and support Wattere in the background, and we’d not be able to do anything. We could take Wattere to court, and with his money, Despenser would be able to bribe any justice, any jury … I would be ruined in no time.’

‘There is no point, Simon,’ Margaret said sadly. She looked about her again. The picture of St Boniface had a lovely smile to the face, and she smiled with a weariness she hadn’t known since her boy had been weaned. ‘He has won the battle. There is no point in struggling against him. We should rent this house, and move back to Sandford. That way, we gain more time. And it won’t matter, because you aren’t Bailiff any more.’