‘I love Flora.’
‘Hmm. That’s not a huge problem,’ Piers said, head cocked on one side. ‘What does she think about it?’
‘She feels the same. Promised to marry me.’
Piers nodded his head slowly. ‘Right. So she loves you too, but you feel bad? Not good? Not glad?’
‘I can’t do it. I can’t ask her to marry me.’
‘I… You don’t have much, no, but you’d make her a good enough husband, wouldn’t you? You’re not cruel or stupid – at least, I wouldn’t have said so until just now. What’s the matter?’
Osbert sat back, curled his arms about his legs and rested his chin on his knees. He remained there for some while, staring into the distance, and then gave Piers a disconcertingly straight stare. ‘You mean you don’t know?’
Piers held his hands out, palms up. ‘Don’t know what?’
‘My mother. She was never ashamed of me, of my bastardy. She always said, any man born like me shouldn’t regret his birth. The fact was, I was free, after all.’
Piers shrugged. He knew the rule of the law: a freeman who fathered a son conferred his freedom on the child, and a bastard must be assumed to be free. ‘So?’
‘Ben told me. I always loved Mary, and then, when she was gone, I fell in love with Flora. At least Ben saved us.’
‘What?’ Piers asked, confused.
‘I never knew my father. Mother always said it was because he’d married some prune-faced whore.’
‘Yes, well. These things happen,’ Piers said.
‘I always wondered why Mother didn’t tell me who it was. I thought it was because she was ashamed. Didn’t want to tell my father that she’d given birth.’
‘It’s common enough.’
‘You don’t understand, do you?’
Piers didn’t, nor did he particularly care. He had spent the whole day riding about the countryside seeking Mark, and now he was going to help Osbert escape, a man who had hurt his master’s son. It didn’t bear thinking about. ‘Neither of us have time for this, Os. Come on.’ He was brushing the twigs and straws from his backside when he heard the steps outside. Slow, thoughtful steps, Piers considered, not the sharp, swift footfalls of a man who rushed to a barn with a sword in his hand ready to kill or capture the men inside. Rather they were the reluctant steps of a man who was setting off on a long journey without knowing his destination.
Peering around the doorframe, Piers saw a familiar shape. ‘Oh, thank God!’
Osbert was not of a mood to notice a newcomer. ‘After he’d shoved his pork sword into my mother and got her with child, he fell in love properly.’
‘He married,’ Piers said without thinking, and opened his mouth to welcome his new guest, when Osbert spoke again.
‘No. The bastard fell in love with Huward’s wife. All those children of the miller’s? They’re Sir Ralph’s. Mary, Flora, Ben, and me too. We’re all Sir Ralph’s children.’
Hearing the sharp intake of breath, he looked up, just in time to see the ravaged face of Huward at the doorway.
‘I thought you’d soon be here.’
Esmon stood with a pair of his men-at-arms behind him in the main gatehouse guard room. His hand was still painful, but he found that clenching and unclenching it eased the pain a little, and he was sure that it would only marginally limit his ability to fight if he was forced to draw his sword. Not that there should be any need for that, he thought as he observed Roger Scut at the back of the little band. ‘What, a wounded servant, two watchmen, a cleric, a Keeper and a Bailiff? All to come and speak to me? This is quite a party. What do you want? More wine?’
Simon smiled calmly. ‘You have a reputation, Master Esmon. Men say that you raid and kill on the moors.’
‘Who accuses me? I’ll show my innocence,’ Esmon said offhandedly.
‘You will learn at the next county court. You will be attached.’
‘By you, Bailiff? Oh, I don’t think you have the power.’
‘I think I do, and so does the Coroner and this good Keeper. And since the murder concerns a man going about his business on the moors, a man who mined tin, I have every right to arrest you now and take you to my own court.’
‘I don’t think I’ll submit to that. And what would you want to achieve, anyway? I am a friend of the Despensers. Touch me, and you’ll regret it! Copy that Keeper. He seems content to maintain his dignity with silence. Perhaps you should learn from him, Bailiff.’
Baldwin looked up at that. ‘You think I was keeping quiet? I was only waiting to hear what the good Bailiff had to say.’
‘You’ve heard him.’
‘And I say that you are to be arrested and will be judged by me in my court for breaking the King’s Peace, robbing and ransoming to the detriment of the King’s subjects.’
‘What, nothing of murder?’ Esmon sneered.
‘That was a crime committed outside my jurisdiction, but the good Bailiff has accused you already.’
‘So do you intend to steal me away even now?’ Esmon demanded, and his anger was unfeigned. These people had come here and taken advantage of his father’s hospitality, and now they dared to accuse him! It was against all the rules of chivalry to behave so rudely. ‘I suppose you would like me to put on sackcloth and ashes?’
‘No, but I would like to hear you apologise for trying to ride me down in the road,’ Simon said.
‘What?’
‘It was you who rode at me and struck my servant here instead because he tried to save me.’
‘I was riding on a road – if your servant got in my way, that’s not my concern.’
Baldwin, who was watching Simon, saw the Bailiff’s smile subtly alter. Now only Simon’s bottom teeth showed, and that, as Baldwin knew, was an infallible sign that Simon’s temper was about to snap. He interrupted quickly. ‘Esmon, you knocked Hugh here aside and could have killed him. If it was an accident, it should be no trouble to apologise.’
‘I certainly think it was a shame I hit him,’ Esmon said, eyeing Simon with cold anger.
‘Good,’ Baldwin said hastily. ‘And now we can see the carter and Coroner Roger’s men released.’
‘No. They were found near a farmhouse where someone had robbed a woman. Until my father speaks to them and determines their innocence or guilt, they have to remain here, I fear.’
‘They shall be released,’ Simon said, slapping his sword hilt. Baldwin caught his elbow to stop him marching forward.
‘They stay here, Bailiff, and they’ll only be released when my father says so,’ Esmon replied. ‘I don’t know why you think you can claim authority over my father’s court, but he takes such arrogance badly.’
Baldwin heard a noise, and glancing over his shoulder, saw more men walking in through the doorway and fanning out to encircle Simon and him. ‘So you refuse?’
‘Certainly I do. These three were found near a theft. What would you do, Keeper? Let them run wild?’
‘Will you surrender to our safekeeping for the murder of the man Wylkyn?’
A woman’s voice called sharply, ‘What is all this about?’
Esmon could have sworn aloud. ‘Mother, please leave us.’
‘I asked what this was all about. Why are our guests in here surrounded like felons?’
‘These guests, as you call them, want to arrest me.’
‘Because of Wylkyn?’ Lady Annicia walked in like a lady, but her deportment was not quite as smooth as when she was completely sober. Baldwin could smell the wine on her breath. She glanced at Baldwin and Simon with a perturbed frown. ‘He was a terrible man, though. He killed Sir Richard Prouse, you know, and then he drew a knife against poor Esmon too. Last week he tried to hurt my son when he met him on the road, and Esmon defended himself. That is all.’