‘It is an interesting theory.’
‘More than that, it’s likely,’ Jack said smugly. ‘Now, what we must do is get the oil back.’
‘What will you do with it?’
‘Bring it to you so you can take it to the King.’
‘Good.’
‘Unless …’
Ayrminne held his face carefully blank. ‘What?’
‘Unless you felt it better that you took it to the Queen.’
‘Me? Why should I wish to do that?’
‘I know you are in her favour. And then, when I get back to France, you can ask her to look on me favourably. I’ll have saved it for her son, so he can use it at his coronation.’
‘What makes you think she wouldn’t punish you for keeping what was her husband’s?’
Jack grinned. ‘It’s you who’ll take it to her. I’ll just keep in the background until you tell me to come to her. Is it a deal?’
In answer, Ayrminne opened his travelling chest, he took out the little soft leather purse and hefted it in his hand. Not quite a king’s ransom.
‘Be careful. The King is keen on the story of St Thomas. He would dearly like to bring punishment down on the head of the man who killed a monk down there in the priory where Henry II had seen to the slaughter of the saint.’
‘Oh, I’ll be careful,’ Jack said. It would be the last sentence he spoke to Ayrminne.
Baldwin and Simon were wary as they approached the King’s son.
All Simon could think of was how young the Earl looked. His own first-born son would have been how old now? About ten? This lad was two years older than that, if he was right, and yet he hardly looked it. He held himself well, though. His manner was haughty, and he had a cold eye for Baldwin and any others he glanced at. He wasn’t impressed by rank, clearly. No reason why he ought to be. He had as many servants looking after him as any king, and he had knights and bannerets in his household, too.
‘Your Highness, you asked to see us?’ Baldwin said.
‘I noticed that you had taken some interest in my behaviour at the King’s hall just now.’
‘No, I was merely looking about the hall to see who else was there,’ he said.
‘You were both watching me and my friends,’ the Earl corrected him. ‘And I wish to know why.’
Simon kept his head down, but his mind was whirling. The Earl must be perfectly used to being observed by others at all times, surely.
Baldwin was more conciliatory. ‘My Lord, I was not aware I had caused you any offence.’
Bury was bristling with righteous indignation. ‘You stare at the Earl and think you do him no insult?’
‘Does my glance occasion such an insult?’ Baldwin said, staring fixedly at Bury.
Bury was quiet for a moment, and then opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, the Earl held up a hand. Instantly Bury was stilled.
The Earl eyed Baldwin closely. ‘If I were King, I could consider your attitude to be insolent.’
‘When you are King, I shall be more cautious, I swear,’ Baldwin said, but he was smiling, and he lowered his eyes to avoid the Earl. ‘I promise you, upon my honour, that I meant you no harm and didn’t mean to insult or offend you. I was only looking about the hall.’
‘Why?’ the Earl snapped.
‘Because it occurred to me that among the men of the hall may be the man who had murdered the monk at Canterbury, and stolen your father’s oil. And I caught your eye because I was reflecting to myself that the oil itself, were it to be recovered, may be extremely valuable to you.’
‘You suggest that I stole it for myself?’
Baldwin shot a look upward, and stared a moment. ‘My Lord, the oil would be valuable to you, I said. I meant that, were someone to try to blackmail you by demanding money in exchange for the oil, you might feel forced to agree to pay.’
‘I might be more inclined to take the bastard’s head off for stealing what would be mine anyway. As well as declaring him to the King for treason, in stealing what is the King’s.’
‘And perhaps also for bringing about another instance of embarrassment at Christ Church.’
‘Yes. The man who killed the monk there was obviously not a friend to the King,’ the Earl said. He was eyeing Baldwin with a speculative expression now. ‘You are saying all this for a reason, are you not? What is your interest in this?’
‘I am a humble knight,’ Baldwin said. ‘But I do have my own interest.’
‘I thought as much. What is that?’
‘Your father’s friend has instructed me to investigate the matter for him. He has his own reasons for wanting to know where the oil is.’
‘Despenser, you mean?’ the Earl said with a raised eyebrow. ‘You may tell him from me that you do not need to investigate further on his behalf. I will not have the oil in his hands.’
‘I …’ Baldwin was for the first time in a long while confused. It would have given Simon some pleasure, were it not for the fact that his own life and security depended upon his not upsetting Despenser.
‘I would prefer you to seek the oil, find it, and bring it to me,’ the Earl said.
‘But, my Lord Earl, that is very difficult. I cannot simply-’
‘You can decide whether to obey him, or me. He is the ally of my father the King — but that position could change at any time. The other alternative would be for you to support me. And those who do so will become my firm friends for the future. You understand me?’
‘Earl, I am afraid that the Despenser has already demanded my help in locating the oil, and if we do not help him, he has sworn to make my friend here suffer the direst consequences.’
The Earl gazed at Simon with a pursing of his lips. ‘Let me guess — that he’d take your house?’
‘And rape my wife and see to my death,’ Simon said quietly.
‘You love your wife?’
Simon was about to respond with a wild demand to know what Chester meant to suggest, when he reflected that the Earl had seen his own parents’ marriage dissolve under the pressures of politics and the King’s infidelities. He swallowed back his angry response, and merely nodded. ‘Yes. I love her dearly. I would not do anything that could endanger her.’
The Earl looked at him, then back at Bury. ‘Then I shall have to consult to see how best to ensure that you are safe, Master Bailiff. I am sure that there must be a way.’
‘What do you think?’ the Earl said to Richard of Bury as Baldwin and Simon backed away from him.
‘I would find it difficult to like that knight. He does not seem a sympathetic soul,’ Bury said scathingly, adding, ‘I doubt he owns a single book.’
‘Do you think so? I should have said he was quite an educated fellow. Still, no matter. The main point is that I felt sure he was honest. I would trust him.’
‘He has already confessed that he is working for Despenser,’ Bury said warningly.
‘And gave good reasons why he and his friend were forced into it.’
‘It is hard to trust a man who is the ally of your enemy.’
‘Sir Hugh is not my enemy — yet!’ the Earl said with a faint grin. ‘And aren’t you always saying that I should have faith in my own judgement of a man? I judge this one to be honourable and decent. And as you know, my mother was herself complimentary about him. She had some experience of him, and then was happy with him as her guard on the way to Paris.’
‘True. And yet-’
‘And yet nothing! I trust him well enough. That is enough.’
André and Pons were both seated at a bench in the gatehouse tavern, when the messenger arrived. Jack looked about him at the people inside for some little while before he recognised the two. He smiled to himself, and then crossed the floor to them.
‘Friends, I think you are fortunate today,’ he began.
Pons looked at him, then across at André, before looking back up at Jack. ‘What do you want?’
‘I think you can guess that, can’t you? I am like you two: a man-at-arms for the Bishop. I shared your journey all the way to Canterbury, where you two decided to flee. I have had a hard life, you know. A little money would go a long way for me. But I have the problem that I am not now a free man to take whatever I want. So I have to seek an accommodation if I want ready cash.’