‘There is no need to say anything,’ Baldwin said gently. And he meant it. He could only imagine how Simon must have felt at the sight of his daughter being threatened with rape and humiliation. It was a scene he would remember for the rest of his life.
Edith took her leave of them both and knocked on the door. It was soon opened, and she was led through to the hall.
‘Peter!’ she cried at the sight of him. She ran in, and fell to her knees at his side, placing her head on his breast. ‘Oh, Peter, I thought I had lost you!’
‘I am all right.’
‘Peter, are you all right? Really? You look so thin, you poor darling. I was so scared for you.’
‘I survived it,’ he said with a shudder at the memory.
‘It was no thanks to your family, though,’ Charles said, entering the hall from the solar. ‘If it weren’t for your father, none of this would have happened. You realise that, don’t you? It was all your family’s foolish politicking against Despenser that made this happen. It is a disgrace that a good, honourable, decent fellow like my boy should be arrested and all but killed, just because his father-in-law has an unhealthy fixation with politics.’
‘It was not my father’s fault!’ Edith said hotly.
‘No? It was your father’s connections with the abbey that led to your capture, from all I have heard, and it was your father’s disputes with Despenser that meant you and my son were such easy prey. What will happen next time? Will my son be arrested and hanged just so your father can strike a small legal blow and feel himself the better for it? Do you want Peter’s blood on your hands?’
‘No!’
‘Well, if you are associated with your father, I believe that is what must inevitably happen.’
‘It won’t happen again, will it, Peter?’ she said, tenderly stroking his cheek.
‘No,’ Charles said. ‘It won’t, because I will not permit it. Edith, child, I am sorry: either you must leave your husband and return to your parents, or you must renounce your birth to your father and live here.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘It is very easy. Either you tell your father and mother that you will not see them ever again, that you reject them entirely; or you must leave Peter and go to them to live. I will not permit this danger to remain. Make your choice!’
Monday before the Feast of St Martin in Winter*
Thorney Island
Sir Hugh le Despenser received the messenger with a reserved welcome, but although he was less than enthusiastic, his interest was piqued. It was rare that he would have a messenger from a cardinal, and Cardinal de Fargis was an intriguing individual.
‘The Cardinal de Fargis bade me bring you this,’ the messenger said.
He was only a short little man, and his accent showed that he was not English, but from somewhere on the continent. Despenser had not travelled about the lands south of France, but he thought that this fellow had a similar accent to someone he had met once from Rome.
He opened the little scroll and read it, before looking up sharply. ‘What is the meaning of this?’
‘He asked me to give you this, too,’ the messenger said imperturbably. It was a second little scroll, the pair of them being from John de Courtenay, apparently.
Despenser threw them both down on the table. ‘These are strange indeed. And what have they to do with me?’
‘My master would like you to know that he is aware of these two and their contents. Also that he has made them known to the Holy Father, the pope. He urges you to desist from meddling further in the affairs of the abbey at Tavistock.’
‘I have done nothing.’
‘My cardinal also said to tell you that as a result of your interference, it is unlikely that either candidate now will become abbot at Tavistock. A fresh candidate may be selected by the pope.’
‘This is a king’s endowment. The king would be very disappointed if the pope chose to install a man whom he had not approved,’ Despenser said silkily.
‘Yes. My cardinal said you might mention that. He said that in the event that you chose to quarrel over any actions taken, he would have no hesitation in making your correspondence known to the king as well.’
Despenser picked up the scrolls and held them towards a candle. ‘I think it need not concern me. I have the scrolls.’
‘Copies. The Cardinal de Fargis possesses the originals.’
‘I see.’
‘There is one other thing. Just so you are in no doubt, the Cardinal de Fargis also said that he would petition the pope to have you excommunicated if you persist in this affair.’
‘You may tell him I will comply with his wishes,’ Despenser said. He waited until the messenger had left the room before picking up the table and throwing it over in his rage.
Dartmouth
It had been a long march across the moors, but worth it. Almost as soon as he reached the port, Roger visited the little house where the official sat with the customs accounts, and spoke with the clerk. The note he had brought from Simon Puttock appeared to work like a miracle, the clerk smiling with delight, and soon Roger had been introduced to a merchant and taken out to a ship that was lying in the river waiting to sail.
The last few days had been miserable, with the wind and rain making the journey as unpleasant as it could be. Still, as soon as he reached the town, the weather appeared to blow over, and that, together with the promise of a berth aboard ship, left him happier than he had been in a long time.
If he thought ever of Osbert, and his lonely death out on the moors, it never served to affect his general good humour. It was not the sort of thing that worried him. But when he was at last aboard the ship and ready to sail, it was noticed that he had brought with him a small white and brown puppy.
And although he was mocked for keeping it, no one was cruel to his dog. There was something in his eyes and stance that persuaded men to leave it alone.
*See ‘The Unreliability of Royal Household Knights in the Early Fourteenth Century’ by Michael Prestwich, Fourteenth Century England II, The Boydell Press, 2002.
*CUP, 1979
*12 October 1325
*13 October 1325
*14 October 1325
*15 October 1325
*17 October 1325
*19 October 1325
*20 October 1325
*24 October 1325
*11 May
*25 October 1325
*1306
*1319
*26 October 1325
*27 October 1325
*28 October 1325
*29 October 1325
*30 October 1325
*Night was separated into equal ‘hours’, as was daylight. There were twelve hours of daylight, and thus summer hours were longer than those of winter.
*2 November 1325
*3 November 1325
*4 November 1325