‘In what way, Brother Daniel?’
‘Soldiers can be very coarse when they’re alone together. Yet I’ve not heard an offensive word from them since we left Winchester almost a week ago. They’ve been becalmed by our two charming female companions.’
‘I’m glad of that.’
‘So am I. Obscenity offends me.’
‘I’d hate it if Alys were forced to listen to warm words from our escort.’
‘She’s subdued them, Master Bret,’ said the other with a grin. ‘And given them something far more interesting than my tonsure to stare at as we move along.’
Gervase was riding beside the Benedictine monk and directly behind Alys and Golde. He was finding Brother Daniel a talkative companion. Brother Simon, their usual scribe, had many virtues but his undisguised fear of the female sex and his hatred of soldierly banter ensured that every journey with the commissioners was an extended ordeal for him. Brother Daniel, by contrast, was a much more worldly man with a twinkle in his eye that suggested he was not unacquainted with physical pleasure before he took the cowl. Devout and learned he might be, but the lean, wiry, sharp-featured monk with the greying circle of hair was a red-blooded human being as well. His gaze was fixed admiringly on the two women in front of him.
‘I hope that I’ll not let you down,’ he said.
‘There’s no question of that, Brother Daniel,’ replied Gervase. ‘You come with the highest recommendation. I’m sorry that Brother Simon is indisposed but you’ll be an able deputy, I’m sure.’
‘Simon instructed me with meticulous care.’
‘Did he tell you what to expect?’
‘Yes,’ said Daniel, turning to him with amusement. ‘But I’ve so far encountered none of the things I was warned about. Simon spoke well of you, Master Bret, though he was less complimentary about the lord Ralph.’
‘Only because Ralph enjoyed poking fun at him.’
‘I take such teasing in my stride. It’s always good-humoured.’
‘What else did Brother Simon say?’
Daniel was discreet. ‘Enough to show that he didn’t appreciate the privilege he was being given. I do appreciate it, Master Bret. Very much.’
‘Let’s see if you still feel that way at the end of our visit.’
‘I’ve no doubts at all on that score.’
He returned to his contemplation of the two graceful figures in front of him.
They were eighteen in number, wending their way at a steady trot through the Norfolk countryside. Six knights from Ralph Delchard’s own retinue provided half of the escort, the remainder belonging to the new commissioner, Eustace Coureton. Like their men, Ralph and Coureton wore helm and hauberk and carried weapons. Gervase, too, though wearing the attire of a Chancery clerk, had a sword in his scabbard and a dagger at his belt. Such a show of force was necessary on a journey that took them through six separate counties. Outlaws would think twice about trying to ambush such a well-defended group of travellers. Alert and disciplined, the soldiers rode in pairs. Sumpter horses followed on lead reins at the rear of the column.
Leading the cavalcade were Ralph Delchard and Eustace Coureton. Ralph had been pleased when his habitual colleague, Canon Hubert, was replaced by a veteran soldier, but Coureton was not turning out to be the hardy warrior he had anticipated. A solid man of medium height, the newcomer had a vigour that was surprising in someone who was approaching his sixtieth year. He also had a scholarly turn of mind. Instead of wanting to discuss the finer points of military strategy or past battles in which he had fought, Coureton preferred to enthuse about Greek and Roman authors whose work he was reading in their original language. Ralph liked him immensely but was quite unable to follow his colleague through the thickets of Classical literature.
‘My favourite author is Horace,’ Coureton observed.
‘Who?’
‘Quintus Horatius Flaccus.’
‘Another noble Roman?’ said Ralph without enthusiasm.
‘A poet and a satirist.’
‘The only Romans I know are soldiers.’
‘Oh, Horace did his share of fighting,’ explained the other. ‘When Julius Caesar was assassinated, Brutus fled to Greece. Horace joined his army and fought at the battle of Philippi. Unfortunately, he chose the losing side. Horace had to obtain a pardon before he was allowed to return to Rome.’
‘I’ve never been on the losing side,’ said Ralph, proudly.
‘Then you’re too young to have borne arms when King William was merely the Duke of Normandy. They were desperate days, my lord. Feuds broke out from time to time in every part of the duchy. Unlicensed castles were built all over the place. Fighting never ceased. None of us won all the skirmishes in which we were forced to take part.’ He gave a shrug. ‘Perhaps it’s just as well.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Too much success can lead an overweening arrogance. Failure in battle tempers a man’s character. It did so in my case. I learned the value of humility.’
Ralph laughed. ‘Humility is only fit for monks.’
‘Monks and beaten armies.’
‘Victory sharpens the edge of ambition.’
‘That’s why I came to distrust it.’
‘Would you rather we had lost at Hastings?’
‘Of course not.’
‘Then why not enjoy the spoils of war?’
‘Because war is not always something that we should enjoy.’
They argued happily for a couple of miles. Ralph then lifted an arm to call a halt so that they could have a rest, water the horses and see to the wants of nature. The place he had chosen met all three needs. A fallen tree offered seating to the women while verdant grass welcomed the rest of them. Water rippled invitingly in a twisting stream and the nearby copse supplied enough privacy for those wishing to relieve themselves. Everyone was grateful for the break in the journey. It was a warm day and the sun kept peeping through a veil of wispy white cloud to test its strength on them. Soldiers in heavy mail shirts were eager to dismount and find some shade. Horses whinnied in approval.
Ralph helped his wife down from her palfrey and escorted her across to the fallen tree. Gervase was equally attentive to Alys, taking her by the waist to swing her gently to the ground. She gave him a dazzling smile of thanks.
‘I’m enjoying this so much, Gervase,’ she said.
‘You’re not bored, my love?’
‘How can I be when there is so much to see and so many things to talk about with Golde? She really is the perfect travelling companion.’
He pretended to be hurt. ‘What about me?’
‘You’re perfect in other ways.’
‘I’m relieved to hear it.’
‘Where are we?’ she asked, moving across to sit beside Golde.
‘I’m not sure,’ he replied. ‘But it can’t be more than ten miles to Norwich.’
‘That’s my reckoning as well,’ agreed Ralph.
‘What sort of a town is it?’
‘Who knows, Gervase? I’ve never been there. And if it were left to me, I’d not be going anywhere near the place now. Norwich holds no appeal for me.’
‘It will, my lord,’ promised Coureton.
‘You’ve visited the place?’
‘Once or twice. I was impressed and saddened at the same time.’
‘Saddened?’
‘War has been unkind to it.’
Ralph was wary. ‘Are you going to lecture me again about the defects of victory?’
‘Only if you’re prepared to listen,’ said Coureton with a chuckle.
‘Removing his helm, he settled down on the grass and explained his remark about Norwich. Though it was ten years since he last visited the city, it remained a vivid memory. He talked with affection and regret, holding their interest and sparking off a flurry of questions. The two women wanted to know about the castle where they would be staying, Brother Daniel enquired about the spiritual life of the community and Gervase asked about the trade in the area. Ralph’s attention soon wandered. It was not from lack of curiosity. He was as eager as any of them to learn something of the city, but another development took priority. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement in the bushes and let a hand drift at once to his sword. Having drunk their fill in the stream, the horses had been tethered nearby. To give the animals a rest, packs and leather satchels had been removed from the backs of the sumpters who now grazed contentedly.