Edward Marston - The Stallions of Woodstock

‘All that is needful has been done,’ said d’Oilly firmly. ‘My men searched the scene of the crime for clues and they are now combing the forest of Woodstock itself.’

‘A man could hide for ever in there and elude capture.’

‘We will flush him out. And then …’

‘I’ll hang him from the tallest tree.’

‘No, Bertrand. He will stand trial in a proper manner. If his guilt be proved, he will not escape the direst sentence.’ His voice darkened.

‘Nor will you, if you attempt to take the law into your own hands.

That is no idle threat but a stern warning. I will brook no meddling.

Is that understood?’

Gamberell held back another heated rejoinder. Nothing would be gained by alienating the one man in the county who might be able to track down the assassin. He gave a reluctant nod of consent. The solemn procession moved on. Hyperion let out a long neigh of sorrow by way of an epitaph on his rider.

It was late evening by the time the commissioners reached their destination and Oxford was largely in shadow. That did not dismay them. They were not in the mood for sightseeing. With their bodies weary from the long ride and their apparel damp from the thunderstorm, their main priorities were food, rest and an opportunity to change into fresh clothing. All else could wait until a fitter time.

The only building which they were able to appraise to any degree was the one which opened its huge studded gates to them. Even in hazy silhouette, Oxford Castle was an imposing structure. Like other Norman fortresses which had appeared in such giddy profusion all over England, it followed the standard motte and bailey design, but it differed from most castles in two significant respects. It was built of stone and it was not set up on a commanding height to give it prospect and natural defensive qualities.

Robert d’Oilly, its first constable, had spent over fifteen years constructing and extending Oxford Castle. It stood at the west end of the town and guarded the river approaches with chilling effectiveness.

Those in its massive keep or behind its high, forbidding walls were not simply well protected. Their castle was a declaration of Norman intent to maintain their supremacy over the Saxon population of the area. When they looked up at the four-storeyed tower of the church of St George’s-in-the-Castle, the citizens of Oxford were not reassured by the presence of religion within a military compound. The fortress was to them a symbol of oppression and — as some of the bolder spirits in the community had discovered — a hideous place of imprisonment.

As they clattered in through the gates, the visitors paid no heed to the more sinister aspects of the castle. All that they saw was an end to a tedious and exacting journey. The steward was waiting to welcome the commissioners and to conduct them to their apartments. Brother Columbanus was taken under the chaplain’s wing and guards helped the rest of the party to stable the horses before leading them to their quarters. The newcomers were pleased with their reception.

‘This is better than being caught in a storm,’ said Ralph.

Golde smiled. ‘It is a relief to have a sound roof over our heads at last. I thought that we would never get here.’

‘I determined that we would and we did. Are you not grateful to be married to such a masterful man?’

‘Profoundly,’ she said with a laugh.

‘I have all the attributes of a perfect husband.’

‘Save one.’

‘What is that?’

‘Modesty.’

‘Perish the thought!’

‘You are too ready to trumpet your virtues when they already go before you like lighted torches.’

‘That was elegantly put, my love.’

‘Take credit for that yourself, Ralph. It was you who instructed me in the finer points of your language. But only because you could not get your tongue around our Saxon vowels.’ She began to undress. ‘I so long to get out of these wet garments.’

‘I will enjoy watching you do it,’ he said with polite lechery. ‘A day in the saddle with the others has made me yearn for some privacy with my wife.’

They were in a chamber high in the keep. Fresh rushes had been spread on the wooden floor and clean linen was on the bed. It was a serviceable lodging. The window looked out on the bailey but Ralph closed the shutters on the scene below. His attention was concentrated on Golde as she removed her chemise. Even with her back to him, she could read his warm thoughts.

‘We do not have time,’ she said pleasantly.

‘Let us make time.’

‘Later.’

‘One minute, two minutes.’ He ran his hands down her bare arms.

‘I can wait that long, Golde.’

‘You will have to be more patient than that.’

‘Three minutes would test me to breaking point.’

‘We are famished, Ralph. How can you even think about it?’

‘By looking at you now and being reminded how beautiful you are, my love. And how fortunate I was to find you. You are the one good thing to come out of this ceaseless meandering I do at the King’s behest.’ He turned her to face him and pulled her close. ‘I want you.’

‘Stifle your desire until we have eaten.’

‘Are you resisting your husband, Golde?’

‘No, I am merely putting his empty stomach before my satisfaction.’

Ralph gave a ripe chuckle. ‘Now change into a dry tunic and you will feel more comfortable.’

‘Is that an order?’

‘A simple request.’

He kissed her on the lips and took her by the hips to lift her in the air and twirl her in a circle. When her feet touched the floor again she pushed him playfully away. While she dressed herself in fresh apparel, he began to take off his hauberk. There was a feeling of deep contentment between them.

‘You have no regrets, then?’ he asked.

‘Regrets?’

‘About riding with us to Oxford.’

‘You invited me. I came.’

‘But willingly, I hope.’

‘Very willingly,’ she said. ‘I hate to be apart from you even for a short length of time. My only fear is that I will be a hindrance to you.’

‘A most delightful hindrance.’

‘You are here on urgent business. I am in the way.’

‘That is not true at all, Golde.’

‘Maurice Pagnal thinks so.’

‘Only because he does not yet know you well enough.’

‘Canon Hubert knows me well enough yet he is always uneasy in my company. Brother Simon is plainly terrified.’

‘Neither of them is here, my love. If you want my opinion, this illness of Hubert’s is a true benison. By losing him, we also rid ourselves of that walking cadaver, Brother Simon, who will not stir from his side. In their stead we have Maurice Pagnal and Brother Columbanus. An experienced soldier and a merry monk, sound fellows both, though I could do with less of that Benedictine’s affability. I take them to be improvements on the canon and that corpse known as Brother Simon.’

‘I still feel out of place, Ralph.’

‘That feeling will soon wear off. It has troubled you in the past at first. During our stay in York and then again in Canterbury. Yet in both places you proved your worth to us and rendered practical help.’

‘I pray that I may do so again.’

‘You will. I sense it.’

He reached across to cup her chin in his hand before placing another kiss on her lips. They looked deep into each other’s eyes and forgot all else but their happiness. Marriage had changed both of them in ways they did not foresee and many compromises had been made on both sides. During a tender moment like this, all those compromises seemed a small price to pay for the resultant togetherness. Ralph enfolded her in his arms and held her tight.

The mood was soon shattered. A loving impulse had taken them into the embrace but a sudden commotion forced them instantly apart.