‘Yes, it is,’ insisted Roger. ‘At the end of the day, you are Tancred’s servant, no matter how many times you fought at his side — or saved his life. It is time you forgot him and accepted what God has given you: fertile lands, a good wife and a sister who does all the work.’
‘I am still going,’ said Geoffrey stubbornly.
Roger sighed and lay back down again, turning on his side and pushing Geoffrey with his back until he had them both in a position where he was comfortable. ‘Then you go alone, Geoff, because I will not ignore Heaven’s wishes. Ulfrith and I will ride to Durham once we see you to Dover.’
Geoffrey’s early escape was thwarted by Roger’s fay. Shortly before dawn, it resumed howling, although much closer than before. It woke everyone, and Roger’s declaration that it was an evil spirit looking for blood was sufficiently convincing that a consensus was reached that the gate should not be opened. By the time he announced that all fays must have returned to their dark holes, the sun was shining brightly. A bank of clouds in the distance and a nip in the air indicated it would not stay fine for long, however, and even as Geoffrey watched, the waves seemed to swell in size, as if in anticipation of another tempest.
They were served a meagre breakfast of ale, gritty bread and some kind of fish that stank enough to make Geoffrey’s eyes water. His dog declined the one he tossed it, so he decided to abstain, too.
‘Give the rest to me,’ ordered Magnus. ‘They are a Saxon delicacy and too good to waste on that revolting creature. This Norman fortress may be a temple to Sodom, but at least someone knows how to provide a decent meal.’
‘The cows are under the hedge,’ said Juhel conversationally, pointing to where four skinny bovines huddled near a straggly line of hawthorn bushes at the far end of the bailey. ‘That means rain is in the offing.’
‘And the gulls are aiming inland,’ agreed Roger. ‘That is always a sign of a brewing storm.’ He cast a baleful eye at Geoffrey.
‘What do you mean?’ asked Juhel, intrigued by the meaningful look.
‘I mean it is a sign from God,’ said Roger. ‘He has already sent several, warning against going to the Holy Land. I imagine He thought a shipwreck would have been sufficient to prove His case, but someone continues to be obstinate, so He is obliged to summon yet another tempest.’
‘The wreck was your doing, was it?’ asked Juhel, humour gleaming in his eyes.
‘Yes,’ said Roger before Geoffrey could reply. ‘And now he is intent on going to Dover, to find another boat that he will lead to its doom.’
‘Dover?’ asked Magnus. ‘That will take you back the way we came yesterday.’
‘I suppose it will,’ said Geoffrey.
‘Then I shall come with you,’ determined Magnus. ‘I need to travel that direction myself.’
‘I thought your destination was Ribe.’ Geoffrey was reluctant to have anything to do with him.
‘No — Fingar said he would make one or two brief stops en route,’ said Magnus. ‘One of those was my destination.’
Geoffrey frowned. ‘He told me he had no intention of stopping anywhere.’
Juhel laughed. ‘It would have been foolish in the extreme for him to put in along the English coast, given the amount of contraband he collected in Bristol. The King’s agents would have been after him in a trice.’
Geoffrey raised his eyebrows. ‘I knew he was smuggling, but I did not know it was on the scale you are suggesting. That answers why his crew was gathering up all the wreckage.’
‘Evidence,’ explained Juhel when Roger looked puzzled. ‘They can hardly wander off leaving barrels of contraband strewn across the beach. They must destroy it first.’
‘Is that what they were doing?’ mused Roger. ‘I thought they were hoping to sell it.’
‘Pepper and sugar mixed with sea water will not fetch much,’ said Juhel. ‘And that was what was under all those Irish pelts: spices — the gold of the East.’
‘It is a good thing Lord de Laigle is away,’ said Magnus. ‘He is an efficient taxor and would have arrested the lot of us. I doubt he would have believed we were innocent.’
‘But I had no idea there were spices aboard,’ cried Roger indignantly.
‘Neither did I until we were underway,’ said Juhel. ‘Although the cheap berth did arouse my suspicions. But that is immaterial — we all would have hanged at Fingar’s side had we been caught.’
‘I thought you dealt in parchment — a lucrative commodity,’ said Geoffrey. ‘Why should you seek out a cheap berth?’
Juhel winced. ‘Business was poor this year, and I am short of funds. Paisnel was able to pay for my passage, as well as his own, by opting for Fingar’s ship. What about you? Are you trying to evade justice?’
‘No!’ exclaimed Geoffrey, startled. ‘We just wanted a route that would not involve journeying through Belleme’s territory.’
Juhel nodded understanding. ‘He is a bad enemy, and I am fortunate that he likes me. But I may accompany you to Dover, too. Now poor Paisnel is dead I have two reasons for reaching Ribe: to make arrangements with Danish leather sellers and to deliver Paisnel’s dispatches to the Bishop. Paisnel was devoted to his prelate and would have wanted me to complete his work.’
‘I am leaving today,’ said Geoffrey. ‘But I am used to travelling quickly in unfavourable conditions. You should wait for better weather, then join a larger party.’
‘I cannot wait,’ objected Magnus. ‘I want Sir Roger to escort me to an abbey that stands nearby. It is no more than ten miles from here.’
‘Do you mean the abbey that was built after the battle?’ asked Geoffrey. His father had told him how the Conqueror had ordered a fine monastery to be founded on the spot where so many men had died. It had been a decision rooted in self-interest: the shocked Church was appeased over the terrible bloodshed, and it meant there were plenty of monks to pray for the souls of those who had died, lest the battle was held against the instigator on Judgement Day.
Magnus nodded. ‘There are a number of Saxon villages surrounding the abbey, and I will be safe there until I decide my next move. You will appreciate that, as the true claimant to the crown, I did not intend to be washed up in England with little more than my clothes.’
‘I shall come with you,’ said Juhel. ‘It would be prudent to pay for a mass, to give thanks for our deliverance. I do not want to experience another violent storm.’
‘I shall do the same,’ said Edith, coming to join them. ‘We are lucky to be alive, and I want God to know I am grateful. Philippa and I will travel with you to the abbey.’
‘We are not going there,’ said Geoffrey. ‘Roger is going home, and I am going to Dover.’
‘Actually, Geoff, I think we should, so we can purchase masses, too,’ said Roger. ‘And if you want to borrow money for your journey to the Holy Land, you must come with us — it is my condition for lending it to you.’
Geoffrey was unimpressed by Roger’s stipulation, although he did appreciate that they had had a narrow escape. He just wished Roger would simply let him say a few prayers in a church along the way instead.
However, his displeasure was nothing compared to that of Philippa and Edith when they learned that Lord de Laigle’s wife — somewhat fragile that morning — had offered to keep them at Pevenesel until their kin could collect them. Geoffrey accepted the offer with alacrity. Ulfrith was distraught, and Roger disappointed, especially as Edith’s irritation from the previous day seemed to have dissipated. She appealed to him to persuade Geoffrey to allow them to go to the abbey instead.
‘They will be no trouble, Geoff,’ wheedled Roger. ‘And it will please Ulfrith. He is like a moonstruck calf with Philippa.’
‘She will never submit to the charms of a squire, and they will have to be parted sooner or later,’ said Geoffrey, unmoved. ‘It is better to do it before matters get out of hand.’
‘Then I will make it a condition of your loan,’ countered Roger craftily. ‘Either we take the ladies or I will not lend you the money.’