The trio reached Revelstoke early in the afternoon, as they had been delayed in fording the Erme because of the high tide. The manor-house was set behind a stone wall and a deep ditch as, being so near a lonely part of the coast, there was always the danger of sea raiders. Though a few crofts and tofts lay around it, the manor was more diffuse than the usual village, with some large bartons farming the extensive field systems that occupied much of the peninsula. There were more dwellings down at Noss, where crofts and fishing huts faced Newton across an arm of the branching Yealm river.
The bailey around the manor-house was guarded by a sturdy gatehouse, where a surly porter let them in as soon as he recognised Raymond de Blois. Inside, Alexander saw that the large bailey surrounded an imposing stone-built house of two storeys, with a number of timber outbuildings and barns at the rear. Jan the Fleming knew his place as a servant and took the horses off to the stables, leaving the Frenchman and the alchemist to be received by the steward. As they climbed the wooden stairs to the elevated door, this rather pompous head of the household staff bowed his head to the French knight, but gave only a cursory nod to the Scotsman, accompanied by a look of disapproval that suggested that such curiously garbed eccentrics were not welcome at Revelstoke. He led them inside the large hall, however, and indicated a table near the fire-pit where they could enjoy refreshments while they waited for the manor-lord, whom he said was presently with his wife in the solar. Servants rapidly appeared, bearing hot mutton pies, slices of ham and pork, together with fresh bread, butter and cheese. Washing these down with wine and ale, the ill-assorted pair ate in silence, their travel-chilled bodies warming up by the heat of the glowing logs. When they had finished, Raymond began to get impatient at being kept waiting for so long by a knight of equal rank to himself. Though he had met Richard de Revelle several times, both here and in Bristol, he did not like the man, thinking him a sly and supercilious fellow who could not be trusted.
Just as de Blois was working himself up to protest to the hovering steward that he did not like to be kept waiting, the former sheriff of Devonshire appeared in a doorway at the side of the hall. Richard was a slim man of average height, with a narrow face that appeared almost triangular, as he had a pointed beard of the same light brown as his hair, which was worn slightly longer than the severe crop favoured by most Norman gentlemen. He was an elegant dresser, favouring green in most of his tunics, such as the one he wore now, which had a crenellated pattern of gold embroidery around the neck and hem. A jewelled belt of soft leather ran around his waist, from which a purse dangled from plaited cords. His shoulders were covered with a surcoat of a darker green velvet and his shoes had long curled toe-points in the latest fashion.
The visitors rose to their feet as De Revelle walked across the hall, ignoring the bows of his steward and two other servants, to extend his hand to Sir Raymond, grasping his forearm in geeting.
'I regret my delay in attending upon you, de Blois, but my wife was indisposed,' he brayed, in his rather high-pitched voice. 'I am afraid that Lady Eleanor is of a somewhat delicate disposition.'
The Frenchman murmured some sympathetic platitudes, then turned to introduce Alexander of Leith. De Revelle regarded the apparition with obvious distaste, echoing the response of his steward.
'Does he speak our language?' he loftily asked Raymond in the Norman French that was his first tongue.
'Ay, and Latin and Gaelic as well — but I am more comfortable in English!' tartly retorted the little man, using the speech of the more lowly inhabitants of the islands.
Richard reddened, then regarded the strange tunic and long tartan kilt. He came to the conclusion that such eccenticity must betoken considerable academic and technical skill, and adjusted his manner accordingly.
'You are welcome, magister. I trust that you can help to achieve what is required?'
Alexander scowled, as he had also taken an instant dislike to this arrogant lord. But as they had a mutual purpose, for which he was to be well paid, he felt obliged to swallow his resentment.
'Much depends on these other people, sir. I have great experience of my art, yet have so far fallen slightly short of the desired goal. With the help that is promised by them, we shall suceed.'
The three men sat again at the table and Richard snapped his fingers at his steward for more wine.
'I have not yet set eyes upon these others who have come to assist you,' he said to Alexander. 'Have you all that you require at this den which has been provided?'
'What I saw in the short time I was there seems adequate,' replied the Scotsman, cautiously. 'I too have failed to meet these alleged geniuses of my art.'
De Revelle's eyebrows rose as he turned to Raymond de Blois. 'Where are they, then? I thought it was agreed that it would be unwise for them to be seen abroad more than is absolutely necessary.'
The Parisian knight gave a very Gallic shrug. 'They seem to do as they please, Sir Richard. Communication is difficult, as only one speaks a bastard kind of French and none of them has a word of the English tongue. They seem to come and go as they wish, like ghosts in the night.'
De Revelle scowled. 'This is not satisfactory. The Prince would be concerned if he knew, as would your king. Have they achieved anything yet in their task?'
'I doubt they have tried — they seem to be waiting for Alexander here to join them.'
The talk continued for some time, consisting mainly of the former sheriff haranguing the others to ensure some action and to keep their associates in line. He ended with a stern recommendation to them to have a good night's sleep after the evening meal and to set off home early the next day to get on with the job that they had come so far to complete. Rising from the table, he bade them a curt farewell and, throwing his cloak dramatically back over his right shoulder, stalked away to his private chambers, leaving a Frenchman and a Scot united in their dislike of their host.
John's journey westwards was long and arduous, mainly because he was deprived of the usual gossip from Gwyn and the banter between his officer and Thomas de Peyne. With Matilda alongside him, stiffly upright on a decent sized palfrey hired from Andrew's stable, conversation was as sterile as usual. The maid Lucille, muffled up to her thin nose in a dun-coloured cloak, trotted miserably on the other side of her mistress on another rounsey hired from Andrew's stable. Gwyn sullenly kept well out of the way, riding behind with the two men-at-arms that John had commandeered from the garrison to act as an additional escort. Normally, de Wolfe rode alone with Gwyn, but he felt that their efforts to repel any attack by highway thieves might be hampered by the presence of a lady, so he added this pair as a deterrent.
As with their last journey, they stopped at Buckfast for the night, rather than Totnes, for accommodation for female travellers was better in the large abbey hostel than in Totnes Castle. Though there were no nuns there, the hostel was run by lay servants, whose wives and daughters were employed in the segregated part reserved for women.