Michael JECKS - The Oath

Sir Charles looked at him.

‘Come, Bailiff. Let us try another jug of that wine. I’m not sure it wasn’t off, eh?’

Fourth Sunday after the Feast of St Michael [27] 26 October 1326

Bristol Gaol

The morning was, for once, blessedly dry, and even inside the repellent little chamber in which Saul the Fosser had been thrown together with three drunks, one of whom threw up for the early part of the night until he had emptied his belly, and then retched until he passed out, lying snoring in a pool of his own vomit, the difference in temperature was noticeable. Not warm, but not as icy cold as it had been.

‘Fosser? Someone wants to talk to you.’

The door was pushed open, the rusty hinges screeching. In that enclosed stone space, the sound was like a dagger being thrust between the ears. Saul climbed to his feet, then made his way out through the door, past the gaoler, with his reek of old garlic and armpits, and found himself in a small chamber. There was a man there, who stood playing with the little dagger with its two rubies.

He was a very calm, quiet man, with a peculiar slow blink of his brown eyes. His hair was very dark, while his flesh was quite pale, a curious combination. He was wearing a long, dark-green tunic of very soft-looking woven material. It made Saul feel even chillier than usual to see such a rich, warm-looking fabric.

‘You are the man who was trying to sell this?’ the stranger asked.

‘It wasn’t my fault!’ Saul said immediately. ‘I was trying to make a little money, my lord, not–’

The man wasn’t impressed by his assumption of his rank, nor by his protestations of innocence. ‘Know that the man who carried this weapon was a felon who deserved the full penalty of law. If you killed him, it will not be weighed against you. But, if you know where his body lies, you must tell me now. I want to see him dead with my own eyes.’

Saul considered. There was the risk that this man was lying, of course, but he had the impression that the fellow was telling the truth. There was certainly no indication of any sorrow on his part for the late departed owner of the dagger. On the other hand, Saul had no idea who the owner was, unless it was the tall knight at the graveside.

‘I don’t know who he was,’ he said, and told all he knew. About the knight watching the burial of the woman, how he threw the packet into the grave while Saul replaced the earth, and then disappeared. ‘I think he was in the castle. Perhaps he is in there now?’

‘Perhaps he is. Describe him.’

‘He was tall, with a long crimson robe, and…’ It took only a little time to describe the man standing in the cemetery.

The knight considered him without speaking for a while. Then he nodded to himself. ‘Very well. I believe you. You will remain here for a little longer, Fosser, but it’s not a punishment.’

‘Please, my lord, no! Let me go home. It’s not as if I’ll be able to run away,’ he said, gesturing at his leg, hoping for sympathy.

‘It is not in order to punish you, Fosser. It is for your protection,’ the man said.

Bristol

He had not expected to be treated quite so well as this, but Sir Stephen knew that the Queen must be grateful for the gift he had brought her. There were not very many men who would bring her an entire city. In the great Guild Hall, he felt honoured to he allowed some time with her, her lovely little maid and one guard.

Isabella was a delightful woman. Quite the prettiest he had ever seen. Her fair hair and pale features were set off exquisitely by the black material of her widow’s weeds, and everything about her appeared designed to drive a man’s fancies to thoughts of bed.

‘I am very keen to learn what is happening inside the castle, Sir Stephen. Do you know upon whom the Earl of Winchester depends most of all? He is a strong-willed man, I know, but all must have one or two whom they can trust above all others.’

He was tempted to make a flippant comment about her husband and the way that the King had always selected unsuitable advisers, but saw that such a view would be safer kept to himself.

‘My lady, Your Highness, I think that the Earl is less strong now than when you last saw him. When would that have been?’

‘It was last year, more than a year ago.’

‘And his health has not improved. He fights because he can see no alternative if he wishes to protect his son.’

‘His son will die for the crimes he has committed,’ Queen Isabella said flatly. ‘You know how he has insulted even me, his Queen? He took my city, this Bristol. All the revenues which were mine by law, he acquired to his own benefit. The city was a part of my dower, and yet he seized it all. It was ever an especial favourite of mine, Bristol. So pretty, is it not?’

‘I find it so.’

‘So, the good Earl is not content? And yet he must know that he cannot stand in our path.’

There was a knock at the doors, and in walked a youth. It was only when the guard snapped to attention, and the maid curtseyed deeply that Sir Stephen felt his heart lurch, and he bowed low.

‘My son, this is Sir Stephen Siward, who yesterday brought us the city of Bristol.’

‘You turned from your friends in the castle?’

Sir Stephen heard the pointed challenge. ‘Your Royal Highness, I thought, and still feel, that it is more important to remain loyal to the Royal Family than to others.’

‘Which others?’

Sir Stephen looked up. ‘Men who would use the law to terrorise and steal. I have had experience of the murders committed by the Despensers. I would not be able to support a Despenser.’

‘That is good.’ The Duke of Aquitaine, Edward, son of King Edward II, walked to his mother’s side, bowing and kissing her hand, before turning and studying Sir Stephen. Fair-haired like his parents, he had a glorious mane of hair, and his build was already that of a warrior, even though he was only just fourteen years of age. He also had some strength of character, from the way that he studied Sir Stephen with those serious blue eyes of his. ‘But I wouldn’t see all Despensers punished by association, either. The fact that one is dishonourable, dishonoured and must be punished for his manifest crimes does not mean his father is a felon. I respect the Earl.’

‘So do I,’ Isabella said. ‘He has been good to us in the past. Perhaps he would listen to reason and surrender the castle, do you think? There can be no benefit in his keeping the fortress only to see it destroyed about him. The rubble of a ruin is hardly worth a single life.’

‘I think he would plan to keep it in order to hold it for your husband, Your Highness.’

‘I have no husband,’ she said, and there was just a hint of heat in her response, although she recovered her sangfroid quickly enough. ‘But were Edward to come here, it could not be for a very long time. Did you not know?’

‘I am not sure what you mean.’

‘The King has left the country. That is why we are gathering today. He has left his kingdom, and that means the realm is without a monarch. It has been deserted.’

Cardiff

It was a relief to see the castle appear in the distance at last. Huge, and beautifully proportioned, it was a sight to make Baldwin smile: so regular and symmetrical, it appealed to his sense of balance.

He was at the rear of their party as they rode down the final plain towards the castle with the great town at its foot. There were men at the entrances to the town itself, and Baldwin and Jack rode slowly to the gates as the rest of their party rode on ahead.

Here at least there were signs of normality. Flags and banners flew from the turrets and there was an air of calmness and peace about the place that made Baldwin’s soul feel refreshed.