And now he was as dead as the elm plank on which he lay. The men set the plank on the table and gradually tilted it until he was lying on the table itself. Not that it was large enough to accommodate his frame. He overhung it by a good few feet, his legs dangling from the knee.
Ant sidled across the floor on his backside, gurgling, and reached out for the nearer leg. Agnes had not the heart to stop him. Instead she turned to the men. ‘You have my gratitude, all of you. And now I would like to prepare him for his grave.’
‘I will ask my wife to-’
‘No. I will do this alone. He is my man. I will see to him,’ she declared with absolute determination. ‘It is not for anyone else.’
They left soon after, and she stood for a long time staring down at his face. His poor, bloody, ravaged face. She wanted to speak to him, to ask him what he had been doing, to rail at him for having the temerity to die when she hadn’t expected it. But the only words that came were, ‘It was only until next Michaelmas, you fool. Couldn’t you have stayed alive that long?’
Ant was on the floor, looking up at her with a face that showed only utter concentration, once more as always, assessing her mood, ready to fit his own to suit hers. And as she gradually subsided into sobs, deep, womanly sobs for the life lost, the future snatched away, he began to wail too.
Furnshill
Baldwin watched, almost hopping from foot to foot, as Jeanne ministered to the girl.
Given a sword in his hand, an enemy charging towards him, a horse beneath him, Baldwin was in control. He knew his strength, he knew how to fight, he understood the points at which to aim his weapon, how to reverse his blade, how to fight in unison with others, how to deceive and slash or stab to win swiftly — but in a situation like this, with a young woman weeping and desolate, he was as useful as a wooden trivet over a fire. ‘Do you want me to-’
‘No,’ Jeanne said curtly. ‘Go and sit down. You are being a nuisance.’
‘I don’t understand, though,’ Baldwin said, once he had taken himself away a short distance. ‘How can they think that your husband is involved in some form of treason?’
‘I don’t know! I wish I knew — I wish I could find out! Sir Baldwin, you will help us, won’t you? Peter’s father is doing all he can, but he says he has no influence with this new sheriff. He said I should ask you. You are Keeper of the King’s Peace, and you have been to London to see the king himself — can’t you help us?’
Baldwin looked at her. She was weeping all the time, her face red with her distress, and he felt his heart torn. ‘I will do all I can,’ he said, ‘but you have to understand, I am not so popular with the sheriff or others. They think of me as an enemy of their master, Despenser, and would prefer to see me hurt and broken. If they thought it would offend me to keep your husband in gaol, they would do so. It is hard, I know. What of your father? Simon must be told of this too.’
‘That was what they said. They said that they were holding Peter because of my father. Something about Peter being taken because of him. They said he wouldn’t have been arrested if it wasn’t for Father!’
Baldwin slowly walked to a stool not far from Edith and sat, studying her seriously. ‘You are sure of that?’
‘It is what my father-in-law said. As soon as I saw him and told him what had happened, he went straightway to see the sheriff, and the man said that it would have been better if Peter had never … never met me!’
Baldwin’s face hardened. His sympathy for Edith knew no bounds, because he had known her since he first arrived here nine years ago, when she was only a child, and looked upon her as a man would a favourite but occasionally wayward grandchild. There had been times when he had been made angry by her rudeness to her father in recent years, but he was forced to admit to himself that most of those had been situations in which any young woman would tend to illogical humours. Even his own darling Richalda would probably display the same kind of intolerance of her father when she grew to become fourteen or more. It was the way of young girls.
No matter how often Edith had insulted Simon, she was still Simon’s daughter, and Baldwin would do all in his power to protect her.
‘I will go and see this man. In the meantime, Edith, you must rest here. Jeanne, we should send Edgar to Simon’s house to let him know what is happening and have him come to join me travelling to Exeter to see the sheriff.’
‘Will you both be safe?’ Jeanne asked quietly. She was afraid that her husband and Simon could both be arrested in their turn.
‘Simon and I will visit Bishop Walter first,’ Baldwin said. ‘We shall be safe enough.’
‘Perhaps Edith would prefer to be with her own mother when you ride to the city,’ Jeanne considered.
‘Quite right. What do you think, Edith? Do you want to remain here, or ride to your father’s?’
‘I must ride to Exeter,’ Edith said without hesitation. ‘My husband is there — he needs me.’
‘You cannot go before us,’ Baldwin said firmly. ‘When we leave, you can join us, of course, but until then you will have to wait here. It would be too dangerous for you to travel alone.’
‘I reached you here,’ she pointed out.
‘That is true, but the roads are too dangerous. The fact that you managed this far is no reason to compound your danger by riding back,’ Baldwin said with a smile. ‘Better by far that you wait here and rest. If not, you may of course come with me and Edgar when we go to speak with Simon.’
‘I should be at my husband’s side,’ Edith said fretfully.
‘And you will be, Edith,’ Jeanne said. ‘As soon as we can get you back there safely. But you know it’s not safe for a pretty young woman to travel the roads here all alone.’
‘And you cannot go back to Exeter now, in any case,’ Baldwin said. ‘You are plainly exhausted. You must rest. I am sure that would be for the best. Meanwhile, I’ll have Edgar go to Simon’s.’
‘Could you not send me back to Exeter with one of your men? Wat is a big fellow,’ Edith said. ‘If you are worried about my safety, he would be a deterrent to all but the most determined of attackers.’
Baldwin had to smile at the thought. ‘Wat may have the build of an ox, but he has a mind to equal it. If he was attacked, he’d have not the faintest idea what to do about it,’ he chuckled. ‘No, if you are to be safe-’
‘Sir Baldwin, I know you mean well, but what you are asking me to do is to wait here until you have sent a man to my father’s house, wait for him to return, and then go to Exeter. That means at least a whole day. And in that time, my husband lies in gaol. I will not do it, Sir Baldwin,’ Edith said, and in her face Baldwin saw the resolution of her mother. Margaret, usually so gentle and calm, would every so often display the stubbornness of a mule. Edith was demonstrating a similar temperament.
‘I do not think that we have any choice, child. The roads between here and Exeter are too dangerous.’
‘Then let me go with Edgar to my father’s house. At least then I will be doing something. We can all ride straight to Exeter afterwards and meet you there.’
Baldwin considered. She was clearly desperate to be kept busy, rather than sitting about. She was young and resilient, as he knew. But when he glanced at his wife, Jeanne shook her head slightly.
Jeanne touched Edith’s arm. ‘You need to rest. And Edgar can ride faster on his own. Do you let Edgar fetch your father, and then you can go with them to Exeter when you are rested.’
Edith’s chin became more prominent. ‘I will not rest. If nothing else, I shall ride to my father’s house. It is my husband who is captured, and I would tell my parents myself.’
Jeanne was about to argue, but Baldwin shook his head. ‘Very well, Edith. You shall ride with Edgar and me when we go to fetch your father in the morning. However, we are not going to go anywhere today, because you are already exhausted.’ As Edith began to argue again, he held up his hands. ‘Enough! I believe this is best for you, and I will not have dissent. This is only because we wish to ensure your safety. Rest, and tomorrow I shall ride with you to Simon’s.’