Edward Marston - The Owls of Gloucester

‘Who was that?’ asked Gervase.

‘The man you’ve been asking me about.’

‘Your rent collector?’

‘Yes. Brother Nicholas.’

It was impossible not to notice the commotion. From the window of their chamber, Golde could see the activity down in the bailey.

Soldiers were being mustered, orders given, visible attempts at smartening up made. Provisions began arriving in large quantities; butchers, bakers and other tradesmen delivered their wares to waiting servants who hurried away to the kitchens. Inside the keep itself, the sound of bustle and urgency drifted up to Golde.

She guessed its meaning at once. A pattern of behaviour which she had seen so many times at Hereford Castle was repeating itself here. Important visitors were coming. The mild panic down below gave her an idea of the scale of their importance.

When Golde went down to join her hostess, Maud was not in her customary position with her embroidery. Instead, she was issuing shrill orders to a bevy of female servants before shooing them out with fluttering hands. She gave Golde a strained smile of welcome.

‘We are having more guests,’ she explained.

‘I gathered that.’

‘Durand has only just told me. That’s so typical of him. We have no time to prepare, no time to make the castle look its best. Why on earth didn’t you warn me, Golde?’ she scolded, waving a finger. ‘You must have known that this was in the wind.’

‘Must I?’

‘Of course. Durand told your husband when the message first came. And since the lord Ralph hides nothing from you, he must have confided the tidings.’

‘What tidings, my lady?’

‘The possibility of a royal visit.’

Golde was surprised. ‘The King is coming here?’

‘He should arrive by nightfall.’

‘I see.’

‘Bishop Wulfstan has already ridden into Gloucester and there may be other counsellors due before long. They will find us in disarray.’

‘Not at all, my lady,’ said Golde, trying to adjust her mind to the news. ‘It’s a great honour to be given a royal visit. I am sure that King William will find nothing about which he can complain.’

‘Durand has already found a hundred things. He left my ears buzzing. That is why I am rushing around in such a frenzy.’

‘Then I will not get under your feet, my lady.’

Seeing the chance to withdraw, Golde took it gratefully and moved towards the door. Maud hurried across to intercept her.

‘Answer my question first,’ she demanded.

‘What question?’

‘Are we not friends, Golde?’

‘Of course, my lady.’

‘Then why did you not have the kindness to warn your friend?

It is embarrassing to be the last person to know. How can I play the hostess if I am not told that guests are descending on me?’

‘It was unfair of your husband to keep it from you.’

‘Forget my husband. Talk about yours.’

‘Ralph?’

‘Yes,’ said Maud tartly. ‘When did he tell you?’

‘Well …’

‘Come on. You pretended to be surprised at tidings you already know. How long have you been keeping this secret from me?’

‘I have kept nothing from you, my lady.’

‘Then why remain silent?’ She saw the dismay in Golde’s face and her anger mellowed into sarcasm. ‘So? The lord Ralph is not the paragon you imagined. He is not the soul of honesty, after all. You have been deceived as cruelly as I have, Golde. The wonderful husband who tells you everything has this time held his tongue.’

‘With good reason, I am sure,’ said Golde loyally.

‘An excellent reason. It is the one used by Durand. I am a wife. A mere woman. I have to wait my turn in the queue before I learn what is going on.’ She gave a cold smile. ‘It’s comforting to know that there is at least one person standing behind me in the queue.’

Golde reddened. ‘You have much to do, my lady. Excuse me.’

‘The lord Ralph did not tell you because he did not think it fit.’

‘That is a matter between the two of us.’

‘I wish that I could be there when you raise it.’

Golde dropped a curtsey then went quickly out through the door. Bitter recrimination took her all the way back up the stairs.

Her hostess had crowed over her. It was galling to be put in such a position and the fault lay squarely with Ralph. She vowed to tax him on the subject at the earliest opportunity. Sweeping into the room, she gave vent to her humiliation by slamming the door behind her and emitting a yell of rage.

They had ridden only a short distance across the Westbury Hundred before they were challenged. A horseman approached, waved them to a halt then demanded to know their names and their business. Ralph Delchard gave him a dusty answer and sent him on his way, peeved that anyone should dare to obstruct his way. He rode on with Gervase and his escort, stopping only when they met some of the sub-tenants who worked the land nominally held by Hamelin of Lisieux. It was an area of rich pastures and gurgling streams, undulating gently and dotted with woodland. They could see why it was sought after so eagerly by all four claimants.

The sub-tenants refused to a man to discuss the competing claims. As far as they were concerned, Hamelin of Lisieux was their overlord and they accepted him without protest. The commissioners realised why.

‘Fear!’ said Ralph as they cantered on. ‘That’s why they’re all so tight-lipped, Gervase. Naked fear. The stink of it is unmistakable.’

‘The lord Hamelin knows how to instil loyalty.’

‘With a sharp sword. Not one of them has the courage to speak up for Strang or Querengar yet they clearly know both men. What’s happened to Saxon bravery? Is it extinct in these parts?’

‘Apparently.’

‘There must be someone who will tell the truth.’

‘Under oath, perhaps. And guaranteed indemnity.’

‘Then that is how it must be,’ decided Ralph. ‘I’ll summon every man in the Westbury Hundred before us if I have to. Get them in the shire hall and I’ll make the rogues talk.’

‘Do not blame them, Ralph. They are frightened.’

‘Then I will frighten them even more!’

‘Turn your terror on the lord Hamelin.’

‘If we find he is at fault, I certainly will.’

‘Why not mention it to him?’

‘What’s that?’

‘You have a chance to do it right now,’ said Gervase, gazing off to the left. ‘If I am not mistaken, he is coming to meet us in person.’

‘God’s tits!’

Ralph’s bellow was prompted by the sight of Hamelin of Lisieux riding towards them on a destrier with a dozen armed men at his back. Coming around a stand of trees in an orderly column, they galloped towards the visitors and came to a noisy halt in front of them, fanning out so that a wall of armour blocked their path.

Hamelin gave them a quizzical smile of welcome.

‘What are you doing on my land?’ he asked politely.

‘Finding out if it is really yours,’ said Ralph.

‘Can there be any doubt about that? Speak to the sub-tenants.’

‘We have,’ said Ralph. ‘They are too scared to talk.’

‘Too scared?’ mocked the other. ‘Scared of what? Of whom?’

‘Overlords who ride around with their men-at-arms.’

‘But that is exactly what you are doing.’

‘I am fulfilling the King’s command,’ said Ralph sternly, ‘and that means that nobody, however many swords at his beck and call, can stand in my way.’

‘We are not standing in your way, my lord. Ride where you will, ask what you wish. We merely came out to see what brought you here.’

‘We might ask you the same thing, my lord,’ said Gervase. ‘Your manor house is several miles from here, as are the bulk of your holdings. Why come to the Westbury Hundred?’