Michael Jecks - The Bishop Must Die

‘I have heard men say that there is a fleet off Normandy. It could sail in less than a month. I do not say that I believe it — I have no corroboration — but it shows the thinking in London. And just because there are no ships in Normandy doesn’t mean that a fleet is not to be gathered.’

Baldwin felt his heart chill. This was worse than he had feared. In all the time he had known the bishop, he had never seen him so downcast. Even the last year when they had escorted the young Duke of Aquitaine, Edward, the king’s heir, to visit his mother, and death threats had been issued against the bishop, even then Stapledon had remained suave and calm. Now there was a distraction to his manner, as though the threat of invasion was a constant weight on his mind.

‘Is there anything I can do to help?’ Baldwin asked.

‘There is only one thing we can all do,’ Bishop Walter said, ‘and that is prepare for war. Do you return home and see to your men, sir. You may have need of armed force before long. When the array is commanded, I am sure that the king will ask Sir Hugh de Courtenay to take charge with me of this part of the country, and I will wish to delegate the task to you, so that I myself can ride to the side of the king. It is where I should be,’ he added quietly.

He could not meet Baldwin’s eyes.

Church of the Holy Trinity, Teigh

Richard de Folville winced as he clambered upright. Kneeling to pray was painful since that bastard’s whelp had come to visit. Ranulf Pestel, he called himself. Well Richard called him Rancid Pestilence. The shit! Richard’s leg was sore, his chin ached where he had been knocked down, his belly was still bruised, and his back hurt where Ranulf’s men had kicked him as he lay on the ground, angry that there was no evidence of his guilt.

‘Little brother, you look as though you’re worn out after a long night’s swyving a bishop’s slattern.’

Richard nearly jumped out of his skin. Turning, he saw his brother Eustace. ‘What are you doing here, you fool!’ he hissed. ‘Don’t you realise that half the country is looking for you? The men from Kirby Bellers have been here already. They half-kicked me to death, and if they find you, what will happen then?’

‘Calm yourself, little brother. You worry too much. If God wanted us to be caught, He’d have sent us to hell the day we killed Belers. That bastard deserved to die, and God Himself knows it.’

‘He may do, but Ranulf Pestel doesn’t.’

‘Who is he?’

‘A man-at-arms who served Belers. He was here two days after, and he threatened me, trying to find out where you were.’

‘And you didn’t tell him?’

Richard looked at his brother with exasperation. ‘I didn’t know,’ he said, walking with a hobble to the door. Peering out, he could see Eustace’s horse, a few yards away, and two more men on horseback. ‘What will you do?’

‘Oh, I shall keep quiet, and when it’s safer I-’

‘Don’t you understand yet? It’s not just a local squabble! Belers was a king’s official — a baron of the Treasury! His men, and Despenser’s, are all after us now. There is nowhere to go in the king’s realm. Brother, you will be found and killed!’

‘And if that happens, so be it. Richard, you are the man who is supposed to be telling me of the wonderful life to come. What is the matter with you?’

‘The matter with me is that you should run away. Go abroad, perhaps. To France, or Flanders. There are many nobles who would be happy to have your sword at their side. Don’t stay here and get killed. It would be shameful.’

‘It would be more shameful to run and hide,’ his brother growled.

‘Better to live than die,’ Richard said. ‘Find a ship to take you over the water. You can make a new life.’

‘You are most keen to dispose of me, brother,’ Eustace said.

‘You haven’t seen these men. They have no respect for God’s House; they will kill even a priest for fun.’

‘They were harsh with you, then?’

‘Very. Look at this.’ Richard lifted the hem of his robe.

The bruises stood out lividly against his pale flesh, and suddenly Eustace’s face altered. ‘They did this to you? What were their names?’

‘I only know the leader — Ranulf Pestel. A big man, strong and cruel. I thought that he was going to kill me when he started, but they only knocked me down and kicked me a few times. It could have been much worse.’

‘I will find him. And when I do, I’ll castrate the son of a whore for hurting you, little brother.’

‘Eustace! No! Look, he hurt me, yes — but it was only because he was frustrated in his search for you and the others. If you kill him too, you will have the full might of the king’s men on your backside. You will never be able to escape them. Just leave me and fly the country. Please.’

‘You know who Pestel is, don’t you?’ Eustace said grimly. ‘He’s the king’s man, all right — one of those who lives and breathes his service to his master. If he’s on my path, I had best kill him before he finds me.’

‘How do you know him?’

‘He was in the king’s household at the same time as me. This makes it all more troublesome.’

‘Why?’

‘If he is showing an interest, then who else is involved? It could be the king, but who else would want Belers avenged?’

His tone was thoughtful as he and Richard left the church and walked towards the rector’s modest home. Richard glanced at him. ‘Is there anyone? His widow? A relative?’

‘Or perhaps his colleague …’

‘Who?’

‘Sir Walter Stapledon. The present Treasurer wouldn’t want to think that the sort of man who could kill Belers might still be walking abroad, would he?’

‘No. It cannot be him.’

‘Why not?’

‘The bishop is not here. He must be in Exeter, or in London. Pestel was not sent here at short notice from either city — he was here already, arrived at the church too soon after we killed Belers. No, it can’t be the bishop.’

‘Perhaps you’re right. But I know this, little brother: the man Stapledon is a danger to all. He will steal our money and say it’s fair taxation; he’ll hold an Eyre and say that we don’t have this or that right; he’d sell our souls if he saw profit in it.’

‘That may all be true, but it makes no difference. You must go. There is nothing more for you here, Eustace.’

They had reached his house, and now Richard entered and brought his brother a skin of wine. ‘Take this — but leave now. Don’t delay, and don’t come here again, in Christ’s name! There is only death for you here. Run abroad.’

Eustace gave a lopsided grin. ‘Aye, you were ever the bold one, Richard, weren’t you? Maybe I will, at that. There’s nothing here for a man with balls. The country’s falling apart. Perhaps France would be better. My thanks for the wine.’

‘Godspeed, brother,’ Richard said, and stood at his door to watch the older man stride out to his horse and mount.

Then, with his companions, he waved once, wheeled, and rode off.

Richard was sad to see him go, but glad at the same time. His brother was a potential embarrassment, after all. But then, he thought he caught sight of some smoke. Peering in that direction, he saw a rising cloud of dust. And it approached at speed, before moving off around the vill and hurtling off in pursuit of Eustace.

He couldn’t see the faces of the men in that posse, but the rider in front, he saw, was a large man. Like Pestel.

Exeter

It was late afternoon when Baldwin finally walked from the bishop’s palace and into the bustling High Street.

He had left Edgar at the market seeking two horses, and had hopes that his servant would have had some luck, but trying to make his way there was sorely trying in this crush. He had to push past many men and women, scowling ferociously all the while, until at last, when he was close to Carfoix, he was ready to bawl at anyone who came too close, let alone shoved him. And it was here that he saw Edith, Simon’s daughter.