Baldwin did not rise to that bait. All knew the rumours of the homosexual nature of the King’s relationship with Sir Hugh le Despenser. ‘That would mean that all their issue …’
‘Yes. All the Queen’s children would become bastards. Our own Edward, the Prince of Wales would be disinherited, no more to be considered than the King’s other bastards.’
For all the accusations of homosexuality that had eddied about the King, there was no disputing that he was a virile man. He not only had the four children by Isabella, but all had heard how distraught he had been to hear of the death of Adam, his natural son, while they were on campaign against the Scots some years before.
‘They say that he can’t father children now. Since the birth of Joan he has grown so infatuated with Despenser that he can’t sire another with a woman. It’s been some years,’ Martival muttered contemplatively.
‘There are many couples who cannot breed to command,’ Baldwin pointed out.
‘We all know that. However, he is the King, and it is his duty.’
‘Things have come to such a pass that it is unlikely his Queen would happily accept his advances now, surely?’
‘True enough.’ The Bishop was quiet for a few minutes, and then he said, ‘You are an intelligent man, Sir Baldwin. I get the impression that you are not entirely in accordance with the opinions of Bishop Walter? He would seek to have the marriage annulled. He actually requested my support for such an action.’
‘I should consider such an annulment to be a cynical denial of oaths made before God,’ Baldwin said heavily.
‘You should be aware, then. I would not have you launching yourself into a void without aid. There are other rumours: that Despenser may have tried to force himself upon the Queen,’ Martival said.
That stilled Baldwin. All knew how dangerous an enemy Sir Hugh le Despenser could be, and for the Bishop to repeat a story like that, was either astonishingly foolhardy, or meant that it was common knowledge.
‘Yes, I know the dangers of repeating such rumours,’ said Bishop John, reading the knight’s expression correctly, ‘but you are going to speak with men such as he, and I would not have you advising the Bishop or others without being fully informed. The Queen has enemies — and chief among them is Despenser. You know what Bishop Adam Orleton called him?’ The Bishop cleared his throat. ‘Perhaps that is one detail I should not impart. Suffice it to say that the man is viewed with alarm by many of us in the Church, Sir Baldwin.’
‘Why are you so assured that I am a safe person in whom you may confide all this? I could be a Despenser ally, or someone seeking preferment.’
‘You could — I agree,’ Martival shrugged. ‘However, I do not think so. Your reputation has reached here. It is said that you detest any form of injustice, that you prefer to see men go free than convict an innocent man. Someone like that is hardly in the same mould as Gilbert Middleton or the other felons from the King’s household.’
Baldwin smiled wryly at that. Middleton, a knight from the King’s household had been upset when a relation was gaoled for making deprecating comments about Edward and his northern policies. In revenge, Middleton set out on a spree of robbing and killing that culminated in the capture and assault of two papal legates on their way to Scotland to try to agree a new truce between Bruce and King Edward. ‘No, I hope I am not made in the same way as him.’
‘So do I,’ Martival said, and would have continued, but then Simon walked in, and both men turned the conversation to less turbulent matters.
It was interesting, though, Baldwin thought now, that the two Bishops disagreed so radically; maybe that in itself was an indication of the kind of dispute he could expect here at the King’s council. Although, of course, he could not be sure of the reason for the Bishop of Salisbury’s extraordinary frankness. Perhaps it was largely because members of the Church were growing alarmed at the increasing tyranny of the Despenser family, father and son.
The country needed a counterweight to balance their power. Sadly, at the same time it needed to resolve the dispute with the French King in order to rescue English territories over the water.
All of which should make for an interesting time, Baldwin told himself. He glanced back at the Abbey and the palace area. Both were close enough now that only the grander buildings could be seen above the walls: the enormous belfry in the Abbey’s precinct, and the roof and towers of the main abbey church. Beyond was the roofline of the mighty hall behind its own walls.
There was the abbey gatehouse right ahead of them. Baldwin had thought that they would enter here, but instead the Bishop took them about the walls, into Thieving Lane, and up to the gatehouse where King Street met the Great Hall’s wall. Here there were houses built for the merchants who came each year for the Abbey’s fair, as well as smaller dwellings for the servants who worked in the Abbey or the palace.
The Bishop’s party rode past, entered the King’s palace area at the main gate, trotted past an inn, and then all dismounted at the rail near a stable-block.
Baldwin took in the scene. This was New Palace Yard, a wide space, but filled with timber buildings of all sizes, some houses, some kitchens, some storage-sheds. Alehouses lined the walls, and pie and cookshops were mingled among them to cater for those who visited to present their suits at the King’s courts or who came to see the clerks of the Exchequer. Stalls had been erected in the middle of the court, and the lawyers and clerks hurrying by were plied with sausages, pies, roasted thrushes, all manner of sweetmeats, and drinks.
Everywhere was bustle. Children played in the freezing mud, dogs snarled and bickered over bones, men gambled at an impromptu cock-fighting pit, while stevedores unloaded cargo from the barges on the dock and carried provisions to the undercrofts. A sergeant cook walked among the cattle, choosing which should die first, while pig and mutton carcasses lay nearby on trestles, a merchant and a carter arguing over their cost. And in among all this, men clad in the King’s arms barged past: messengers and purveyors, sergeants-at-arms and kitchen grooms, all hurrying about.
To the south, a wall ran along from the main outer wall down to meet the Great Hall. Beyond that wall were more yards, he guessed, but those would be only for the Royal Household, not for visitors and the likes of him.
And then he noticed two other things. First, there was the sound of hounds baying nearby, but for once Baldwin took no heed. Of much more interest than hounds or alaunts were the men who stood with polearms ready, each of them studying him and the other members of the party with suspicion.
Chapter Twelve
Thorney Island
On Friday morning, after very little sleep, Sir Hugh le Despenser was sitting in the Exchequer, when he saw from the window the new group arrive. Despite his fatigue, he was already leaving the room before they had dismounted, beckoning a guard. ‘You! Come with me.’
This was becoming one of the worst days he could remember. There were those other bad days he had suffered, like the one when he and his father were banished and condemned to exile, or the one when he had been told that he was to lose the Gower. But both times he had prevailed. Other, seemingly more powerful barons had been arrayed against him, but he had beaten them all in the end. This time he would succeed again, he told himself.
‘Who are you?’ he demanded as he approached the newcomers, his hand on his sword.
Apart from the three men-at-arms who were in the lead, the first man there was a tall fellow in a faded red tunic with an old stained and frayed cloak. He had a hood, but it was thrust back behind his head, and his greying hair and beard were neatly trimmed. He had a scar at the side of his face that spoke of a martial past, but any man reaching his age would have a number of scars. It was a part of life as a knight.