‘Not from one like me,’ said Golde.
‘Her first husband was a brewer,’ said Ralph. ‘When he died, Golde inherited a prosperous business and took over the running of it herself. She was providing all the beer for Hereford Castle when I chanced upon her.’
‘Did she convert you to the drink?’ asked Ermintrude.
‘Never, my lady! It tastes like muddy water to me.’
‘Your wine is too sweet for my palate,’ said Golde.
‘I drink both with equal pleasure,’ volunteered Gervase, raising his cup. ‘Wine or beer. Both are enjoyable.’
The serving man reappeared with a jug of beer and poured some into Golde’s cup. He hovered while she tasted it. Her face puckered in disapproval. Ermintrude was alarmed.
‘There is something amiss?’ she asked in concern.
‘No, my lady.’
‘I can see that you do not like it.’
‘I like it well enough,’ said Golde, recovering quickly. ‘It caught me unawares, that is all. I am used to something a little stronger.
Something with more body. But this is perfectly good,’ she insisted, taking a long sip. ‘Yes, it is very acceptable.’
Ermintrude was not convinced. She snapped her fingers and Durand appeared out of the shadows that bordered the hall. The dwarf came trotting over to cringe before her.
‘Yes, my lady?’
‘Did you taste this beer?’
‘No, my lady.’
‘Why not?’
‘Nobody ever drinks it at table.’
‘Your orders are to taste everything, Durand. Even if it is not customarily served. I will have to mention this lapse to my husband.’
‘Yes, my lady,’ said the dwarf, bowing obsequiously but oozing resentment at the same time. ‘Let me take the jug away and I will taste it for quality.’
‘Do that.’
‘I will, my lady.’
Durand gave a signal to the serving man who followed him out with both the jug and the half-filled cup which had been set before Golde. Conversation resumed in earnest. When the taster returned after a couple of minutes, he was bearing a clean cup and a fresh jug of beer.
‘I think you will find this more to your satisfaction, my lady,’
he said, placing the cup before Golde and filling it with beer.
‘Please try it.’
Golde did and nodded in gratitude. The beer was still not of the highest quality but the second cup was an improvement on the first. Durand left the jug and backed away once more into the shadows, listening to what was said and memorising it for his report to Earl Hugh.
As the meal wore on, the talk became more personal and confidences were more readily exchanged. Ermintrude was intrigued to know how Ralph and Gervase had become commissioners and they were entranced by her description of her husband’s romantic courtship of her.
Earl Hugh had changed out of all recognition.
‘Memories are precious things,’ said Ermintrude with a sigh of regret. ‘That is why I cherish them so much.’
After conferring for most of the evening with the leading barons, Hugh d’Avranches called for torches to light his way on an inspection of the defences. He checked that sentries were posted at regular intervals along the battlements and that the gate was secured. Night was a time when extra vigilance was required.
The sentries were too frightened to relax. They knew the penalty for being slack in their duties. Throughout the hours of darkness, they would remain alert and watchful.
Accompanied by six of his men, Earl Hugh left the castle by the postern gate to confirm that the city walls were being patrolled with equal diligence. Mounting the steps in a blaze of light, he marched along the battlements until he came to the main gate.
It was well guarded. The stout timbers were proof against any but the most concerted attack and he resolved that no enemy would ever get close enough to batter a way in.
He was still high on the city wall when he heard the thunder of hoofbeats. A dozen or more horses were conjured out of the gloom.
Sentries drew their weapons and additional men came running up the steps. As the horses were brought to a halt outside the gate, the captain of the guard challenged the newcomers.
‘Who is below?’
‘Messengers from Rhuddlan,’ called a voice.
‘Why are there so many of you?’
‘To ensure safety on a dangerous road.’
‘This is Hugh of Chester who speaks,’ said the earl, taking charge of the situation. ‘Stand forth that I may see you more clearly and identify you.’
He leaned over the wall as the spokesman nudged his horse forward into the pool of light cast by the torches. Hugh could see from his armour and bearing that the man was no impostor.
‘Did you meet with trouble on the way?’ he asked.
‘Yes, my lord, but we outran the pursuit.’
‘What have you brought from Rhuddlan?’
‘An urgent message to be delivered into your hands.’
‘Did my own messenger arrive before you left?’
‘No, my lord.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Quite sure,’ said the spokesman. He gave a command and one of his companions towed a horse forward into the light. Across its back was the body of the messenger whom Hugh had dispatched from Chester at dawn.
The spokesman indicated the corpse with a forlorn gesture.
‘We found him by the wayside, my lord,’ he explained. ‘Stabbed in the back. He never got anywhere near Rhuddlan.’
Chapter Eleven
Morning found the castle in complete turmoil. Sentries were being increased in number and weapons sharpened, extra supplies of food were being brought in, men were herding sheep into a pen and drawing water from the well to fill barrels all around the bailey, and soldiers rushed to and fro in a frenzy of activity. It was almost as if they were preparing for a long siege. Earl Hugh was in the midst of it all, barking orders, pointing an imperious finger and cursing anyone he felt was slow to respond to his curt commands.
The castle gate was shut and barred. Nobody was allowed in without good reason and nobody was allowed to leave without express permission. Ralph Delchard was the first to protest.
With Gervase Bret at his side, he accosted their host in the middle of the courtyard.
‘We have just been turned back at the gate, my lord!’
‘On my instruction, Ralph.’
‘But why? We have business in the shire hall.’
‘Not today.’
‘Claimants have been summoned, witnesses called.’
‘Your deliberations have been cancelled until further notice,’
said Hugh peremptorily. ‘The town reeve has been given notice of this and will turn away anyone who comes to the shire hall in search of you.’
‘We had no warning of this.’
‘You are receiving it now.’
‘Why were we not consulted?’ demanded Ralph angrily. ‘We are the King’s agents. Our business has royal authority. It cannot be arbitrarily suspended on a whim of yours.’
‘What Ralph means,’ said Gervase, seeing the rancour in Hugh’s eye and adopting a more reasonable tone, ‘is that this interruption is highly inconvenient.’
‘It was forced upon me, Gervase.’
‘By whom?’
‘The Welsh archer who tried to kill me in the forest. The warriors who came out yesterday to assess the defences of Rhuddlan Castle. The murderer who stabbed my messenger in the back on the road to Rhuddlan. The villains who tried to intercept the couriers whom my nephew, Robert, sent to me. The army that is gathering on the other side of the border.’ He glared at Ralph.
‘Do I need more justification than that?’
‘No, my lord,’ said the other, assimilating the news. ‘I had no knowledge of these other worrying incidents.’
Hugh was bitter. ‘Well, now you do. So perhaps you will stop telling me that Raoul Lambert was struck down on purpose and that my fears of a Welsh rebellion are groundless. Talk to the men who came last night from Rhuddlan. They will soon convince you that the danger is real.’