‘Perhaps so — but I can dream!’
‘Save your dreams for the night. You don’t want to fall from your horse.’
‘No. And thank you.’
‘What for?’
‘For helping to keep me sane. Without you helping me, I daresay I would have tried to jump on him and kill him. And that wouldn’t help me a great deal.’
‘It would be one way of ending all your wordly problems,’ Jack said with ponderous humour.
‘I’d rather find another means of resolving them.’
‘Good. Now, since he says you stole a possession from the King — can you tell me what this was supposed to be?’
‘There is a phial of oil at Canterbury — or was. It was given by St Thomas, they say, to help our King.’
‘So it was that? I heard about the robbery — it was the week before I got to Canterbury with the Bishop. Who would want to steal it?’ Jack asked.
‘Only someone who intends the King harm. Or someone who wants to do someone else good, I suppose.’
‘If this is holy oil from St Thomas, then it must be marvellous indeed, and very potent.’
‘I believe so. But since it’s been stolen, we may never know.’
‘Why does he say you stole it?’
‘I happened to be there at the priory a few days before the theft.’
‘So were many, I daresay. That’s no reason to accuse you.’
‘Yes. I don’t know why he thinks I may have taken it. I can’t see any reason to.’
‘You don’t hate the King, then?’ Jack said lightly, but regretted his words as soon as he spoke them. ‘Ignore my words. I sound like a cheap spy trying to have you confess to treason just so I can have you arrested.’
‘It is all right. No, I don’t hate the King. And I love our Queen. Those two I would do much for.’
‘But not Despenser, eh?’
‘Him, I would not piss on him if he was on fire,’ Thomas said, and in his mind’s eye he saw that cruel, arrogant face once more, spitting at the ground after he had cuffed Thomas for reaching to his dying brother during the coronation.
If he could, he would happily kill any number of Despenser’s men — and Despenser himself, if he had the chance.
It was late that night, when Thomas had rolled himself up in his blanket and cloak to keep the night chill off, sharing some straw for his bedding with a number of other men and some rats, that he suddenly woke.
He was not usually good at waking up. To him early mornings were a form of unpleasant torture that must perforce be endured, rather than enjoyed. But this time he woke with a start as though suddenly hearing the last trumpet.
It was no trumpet, though. Perhaps a rat had scrabbled past, too close to ignore, too fast to see? Or was it a random thought, something which had sparked like flint and steel in his brain and made him wake?
He was aware of the talk he had had with Jack earlier in the day, and suddenly he felt a wariness. Jack had said that he sounded like a spy, and in truth, yes, he did. It was precisely the kind of conversation which a spy would have had with a man, letting his words ramble on until enough had been said and the spy could denounce him.
But it did not seem right with Jack. Jack had been so helpful, so friendly, that he surely couldn’t be involved with Despenser.
He couldn’t be.
Near Sherborne, Dorset
Simon could not help but keep casting sidelong glances at Baldwin all the way as they rode, Wolf reluctantly loping along behind them.
They had made good time so far. Two days ago, after Baldwin had stated his desire to hurry, their little party had reached Okehampton by evening. Yesterday they had reached Furnshill fairly early, and then Simon and Baldwin carried on at a more urgent pace, and to Simon’s surprise they reached the old town of Ilminster. With luck today they might get as far as Shaftsbury, and tomorrow, perhaps, they would get to Winchester, although Baldwin had already said that they would be best served by making sure that they reached Stockbridge and then letting their mounts have a good rest.
Baldwin had been a good friend for so long now that Simon could hardly remember a time when they had not been companions. It was nearly ten years ago when they first met, over the fire at the little vill. They had discovered a band of trail bastons, ‘club men’ who were ravaging the countryside and killing wantonly. There were so many men who took to violence in those terrible days. The famine was hitting everybody hard, and there were starving families all over the country. Although Devon was not so badly affected as some regions, that only meant that there was an incentive to foreigners from up-country — Somerset and Wiltshire and beyond — to travel to Devon to steal what they could. That was what it felt like at the time, anyway.
Simon had been new to his elevated position as bailiff. It had been largely due to Baldwin’s help that he had caught the trail bastons and firmly secured himself to his post at Lydford. How ironic it would be if he was now to lose everything because of his friendship with Baldwin.
‘I don’t know that this is the best thing to do, Baldwin,’ he said at last. ‘Despenser is an irrational creature. He knows that you and I are thorns in his flesh. What if he decides that the best way to remove us both is to have us murdered?’
‘If he were likely to reach that conclusion, and thought he might get away with it,’ Baldwin said, ‘he would already have done so. No, he is a shrewd and cunning man. If there was merit in killing us, he would have sent that man Wattere with more men and killed you as soon as possible. But he did not. All he did in truth was send you warning that he intended to deal with you at some time in the future.’
‘True enough, but if he finds that we’ve followed him to London, won’t he think that we’re just growing too annoying to be supported? He’d rather just remove us.’
‘So you think you’d be best served by remaining at home and hiding?’
Simon wanted to make a sharp rejoinder, but instead he looked away. The idea of running from any man was repugnant to him, but there were some situations which deserved caution, and this was one such. The man Despenser was the most dangerous in the whole country. He had money, men, and the ear of the King. ‘Running away has never been part of my character.’
‘Nor mine. You could run away from him, Simon, but if you do, you will be forced to run for ever. Yes, if you were to sell the house in Lydford and return to Sandford, he would be thwarted for a little while, but he’d soon find you. He has spies all over the country. But it’s not you he wants, I don’t think. I hope I do not suffer from unjustified arrogance when I say that I think he is more concerned about me.’
‘So what do you intend to do?’
Baldwin gave a twisted grin. ‘I hope to have a chance to have a frank talk with him. I have never sought to be thrown into politics. At every possible opportunity I have tried to avoid it. And he may not realise that, nor that I have done all in my power to keep away from him. It is not that I mean to harm his interests, only that I have barged into his affairs wherever I have gone. He is strangely ubiquitous.’
‘And then, because you have always seen that his affairs tend to be unjust and unfair to the others who are affected, that is the only reason you have deliberately thwarted him?’ Simon said. ‘I don’t think that is entirely the right way to convince him to leave you alone, Baldwin!’
‘Perhaps not. But I would have an accommodation with him if it were possible. I do not wish to live with a permanent fear of him, dreading what he may do to Jeanne or the children; nor what he might do to you and your family. That is unbearable. So if I am forced, I will beg of him that he leaves me in peace.’
‘Beg?’
‘For the peace of my family and yours, yes I would beg,’ Baldwin said firmly.
‘Well, if we are to endure such an unpleasant experience, let’s get it over with,’ Simon said.