Such thoughts pursued each other through my mind. I found little rest that night. I was yet awake when the Angelus Bell rang from the tower of St Beornwald's Church and roused a rooster to his duty in the poulterer's yard.
No one in Bampton Castle knew of my presence but for Wilfred the porter and John Chamberlain. So there was no ewer of warm water with which to fill my basin and wash hands and face, and no ale nor maslin loaf with which to break my fast. I sought John's chamber but found it vacant. As I turned from his door he appeared at the foot of the stairs which led to the solar and Lord Gilbert's and Lady Petronilla's chambers.
"Ah," he exclaimed. "You are well met. I have told m'lord of your return, and the circumstance. He would see you in the solar straightaway."
A blaze in the fireplace warmed the solar against the chill November morning. Lord Gilbert was licking his fingers after devouring a morning loaf as John ushered me into the room. Lady Petronilla was not present. I thought she might be in attendance upon her injured child, and that John Chamberlain was somehow mistaken in his declaration that there was nothing amiss with Richard. But not so.
"Master Hugh," Lord Gilbert roared as he stood to greet me. Most lords would remain seated to address their bailiff. I recognized the honor. "John has told me of your presence, and that some fellow has passed himself as a knight, requesting your return to Bampton on my command. What did the scoundrel say his name was?"
"Sir Walter Benyt, m'lord."
"Bah… never heard of such a knight. And he told you Richard had broken a leg falling from the parapet?"
"Aye, he did."
"The child may do so yet, for all the screeching from Lady Petronilla and his nurse when he steals away from their notice. But to my knowledge the lad was yet unmarred when the nurse put him to bed last night."
"Arthur and I were attacked while on the road yesterday, near Swinford."
"Attacked, you say?" Lord Gilbert's face blackened and his brows drew together in a great scowl. "There is treachery here! Some knight lies when he says he comes from me. His tale puts you on the road, where knaves waylay you. How did you escape them?"
I told Lord Gilbert of the floating log and Arthur's use of it. He laughed heartily when I described the horse toppling over into the river, its rider pinned beneath it.
"God's eyes," he roared, "I'd like to have seen that. His fellows did not pursue you then to Eynsham?"
"Nay. Or if so, we reached the abbey before them."
Lord Gilbert's laughter subsided and he went to pulling at his beard, a sure sign that his thoughts grew serious. "Whoever this Sir Walter Benyt may be, he and those who sent him to you with this tale will know that when you arrived here you would know the truth of the matter. They will expect you to return to Oxford. We must be certain they can do you no harm when you do. You do intend to return, do you not?"
"Aye. I have learned some things which may lead to recovering Master Wyclif's books, but that is uncertain. They are not recovered yet."
"Why," he puzzled, "would someone invent a tale to put you on the road where you could be assailed?"
"I thought at first, when the rogues were charging down upon us, that they sought my purse. But now, I think not."
"'Twas not your purse they wanted," Lord Gilbert agreed. "It was you, I think. How have you angered men so that they seek to do you harm?"
"I have thought on this. I seek stolen books. There are surely men who wish me no success. If they guess I may be close to a discovery, perhaps closer even than I know, they might wish to do me ill."
"And you are to wed a lass who had once a proud suitor who wished to do you mischief. I am told the banns were read in St Beornwald's Church upon Sunday. I congratulate you, Hugh. We must keep you alive and whole until you are wed. After that, the lass… Kate, is it? Aye, Kate… she may take responsibility then.
"You must be more cautious, Hugh," Lord Gilbert continued. "After dinner I will accompany you back to Oxford myself. We will travel with half a dozen grooms. I think three men lurking in a wood near Swinford will allow us to pass."
My appetite was better this day than when I last dined at Bampton Castle. For the first remove there was pork in pepper sauce, roasted partridge, and parsley bread with herbed butter. For the second remove there was a fruit-and-salmon pie and dates in syrup. For the third remove the cook presented roasted capon, an egg leach, spiced apples, and pear-and-herb fritters.
Returning to the pottages at Canterbury Hall would be a trial. But in Oxford I would be near to Kate. For her presence I will gladly bear the dietary afflictions of Canterbury Hall.
As the subtlety was brought to Lord Gilbert after the third remove, he gave order that horses be readied for the journey to Oxford. Bruce, and Arthur's old palfrey were weary from travel the day before, so Lord Gilbert did not press the beasts to much speed. I worried that the day would be far gone before he and the grooms attending us could return to Bampton. Even a powerful lord and his retainers might not wish to be on the road after dark. A noble's ransom will fetch more shillings than his purse will carry.
My concern was answered at Eynsham. Lord Gilbert drew our party to a halt before the abbey and asked — no, demanded — the porter to fetch Brother Giles, for so the hosteller was named. When he appeared he was told that Lord Gilbert and six grooms would require shelter that evening. The hosteller bowed and promised all would be ready when Lord Gilbert returned.
At Swinford Lord Gilbert raised a hand to halt our party and asked to be again told of Arthur's feat with the floating log. He chuckled anew at the tale and when Arthur urged the palfrey up to his side Lord Gilbert playfully swatted his groom upon the shoulder.
"I told you when I sent Arthur to accompany you to Oxford he was a useful fellow, did I not?"
"You did, and I have found him so more than once this past fortnight."
Lord Gilbert urged his courser into the river and our party splashed across the ford. When we had crossed he raised a hand again and asked whereabouts it was that the three horsemen had set out after Arthur and me the day before. I told him that observing the landscape had been low on my priorities when I saw men wielding swords emerge from the forest, but he charged me to take the lead and see could I not discover the place where the knaves lay in wait. We might, he asserted, learn something of the fellows did we find where they set their ambush. I thought this unlikely. I was wrong.
I prodded Bruce forward while attempting to recognize landmarks I had seen earlier going in the opposite direction on a galloping horse. This was not a successful endeavor until, some five hundred paces from the river, I saw an opening in the wood. A narrow path led to the north, which was the direction from which the three horsemen had appeared. This trail was near to overgrown with brambles, but it seemed possible that horses in single file might traverse it. I pulled Bruce to a halt and examined the forest through the aperture. Lord Gilbert reined his mount to a stop beside Bruce and studied the narrow opening.
"Was it here they lay in wait?" he asked.
"I am unsure. Does the path pierce the forest deeply enough that three horses may be hid from whoso may pass on the road? Fallen leaves obscure the ground. I see no hoofprints."
"We shall soon know," Lord Gilbert announced, and swung down from his saddle. I dismounted also, as did Arthur. Lord Gilbert instructed the others to wait with the horses, then plunged into the narrow, thorn-bordered path. Arthur and I followed.
Where this trail verged upon the road there was grass, but a few paces into the forest the track turned to mud. Too little sunlight penetrated the canopy for any but the hardiest brambles to prosper. The earth here was covered with a yellow overlay of fallen leaves, so that the bare ground was concealed until Lord Gilbert swept leaves from the track with the toe of a boot.