‘I will try.’
‘Make him understand how much this means to me.’
‘Yes, Bristeva.’
‘And talk to Edric as well. In some ways, he is worse.’
‘They see things rather differently from us.’
‘Why?’
‘When you are older, I will explain.’
‘I cannot believe that I am doing anything wrong.’
‘You are not, Bristeva.’
Amalric was working in the field when they rode up. He shot them a hostile glance then turned away without even offering them a greeting. Bristling at the insult, Ordgar vowed to confront him at once and compel his obedience. They dismounted and Bristeva went running into the house, eager to scavenge in the kitchen for food. Her father waited until she was out of sight then swung round and marched purposefully towards the field. He was soon overhauled.
‘One moment!’ called Edric the Cripple, hobbling after him on his crutch. ‘We need to talk.’
‘The accounts will have to wait, Edric.’
‘This is nothing to do with the accounts.’
‘I must speak to Amalric first.’
‘Let me save you the trouble, Ordgar.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Stand still and I will tell you.’
The old man came to a halt and Edric moved in close.
‘I know what you are going to say to your son.’
Ordgar was forceful. ‘I will say the same to you, Edric. Leave Bristeva alone. I will not have the girl baited by either of you. She has had precious little enough to smile about since her mother died. Now that something good has finally happened to her, I will not let you and Amalric ruin it. It is not kind. It is not fair.’
‘I know,’ admitted Edric shamefacedly. ‘I am sorry for pouring cold water on her happiness. It was a terrible thing to do. Why should I spoil the girl’s pleasure? I have reasons of my own to loathe Oxford Castle and all that it stands for but it means something else to Bristeva.
I see that now.’
‘Do you?’
‘Yes. Mine is one story, hers another.’
‘It is such a relief to hear you say that!’ exclaimed the other, embracing him warmly. ‘In all the years we have known each other, this is the one thing on which we have disagreed.’
‘Not any more.’
‘Do I have your word on that?’
‘I will not censure Bristeva again,’ vowed Edric. ‘From now on, I will hold my tongue in her presence.’
‘This pleases me more than I can tell you. I want amity in my home.
I am so grateful, Edric. If only my son would come to his senses in the same way.’
‘It will take more time to persuade Amalric’
‘He is threatening to cause mayhem on Saturday.’
‘Leave him to me,’ advised the other. ‘Challenge him now and you will only stir up his anger. The boy needs a day or so to calm down properly. I’ll choose the right moment to reason with him.’
Ordgar was touched. ‘Would you do that for me?’
‘For you and for Bristeva.’
‘I want my children to be reconciled, Edric.’
‘They will be.’
‘What will you say to him?’
‘I am not sure yet. But I will find the words.’
‘You always do.’
Ordgar knew that the steward had far more influence with his son than he did. Edric the Cripple was like a second father to him. His values were the ones that Amalric admired, his life was the one which the boy wanted to emulate. There was a time when Ordgar had resented his son’s obvious preference but he was now resigned to it, and saw how it could actually work to his advantage. At a stroke, Edric had relieved him of the task of reprimanding his son and guaranteed that Bristeva’s role as a performer at the banquet at the castle was no longer under threat.
The two men headed back towards the house.
‘We will go without him,’ decided Ordgar.
‘Without him?’
‘On Saturday night. To the banquet. Amalric and I were invited to join the feast so that we could listen to Bristeva sing. It would put too much of a strain on him. He can be so impulsive. He might do something wild.’
‘Not if I curb him strongly enough.’
‘Amalric is not easily curbed,’ sighed Ordgar. ‘Besides, you will not be at the banquet. Suppose he loses control? Suppose my son starts an affray? He would bring shame down on the whole family.’ He flung a glance over his shoulder. ‘It will be safer to leave Amalric here.’
‘But he has been invited, Ordgar.’
‘That is true.’
‘How many times will he be asked to sit at the sheriff’s table and revel in his company?’
‘Never again, probably.’
‘Then why take this one opportunity from him?’ said Edric. ‘It is not every day that the Bishop of Coutances visits Oxford. Let your son see the great man in the flesh. He will not like him but that is no reason to deny him the right to meet him.’
‘I hate to deny my son anything but I have to lean towards caution here. Amalric can be hot-blooded. We both know that. How can I enjoy the performance of my daughter if I am afraid that my son may suddenly disrupt the banquet?’
‘There is one obvious solution.’
‘Is there?’
‘Take me to the castle with you,’ volunteered Edric. ‘I will undertake to stifle Amalric. He might defy you, Ordgar, but he would not dare to disobey me.’
Ordgar was surprised. ‘Can you be serious?’
‘I would never make such an offer lightly.’
‘After all that has happened? You would be prepared to attend a banquet at Oxford Castle in the presence of Robert d’Oilly and the Bishop of Coutances?’
‘Yes, Ordgar.’
‘Here is a change indeed!’
‘It is long overdue,’ admitted Edric. ‘Even hatred mellows with time.
I am coming round to your view. When I was in Warwickshire earlier this week, I gave much thought to the problem. Bitterness destroys. It eats you up from the inside. I will not spend the rest of my days fighting a battle that was decided many years ago.’
‘These words are music to me, Edric’
‘Take me with you to the castle on Saturday.’
‘I will.’
‘Amalric will cause no upset. I give you my promise.’
Brother Columbanus faded so completely into the background that they almost forgot he was there. With the work of the tribunal suspended, the monk’s official duties ceased until further notice and he exploited his unexpected freedom. Gervase Bret was coming in through the castle gates when he met Columbanus. He was pleased to see the beaming countenance of his friend once more.
‘Well met!’ he said. ‘We have missed you.’
‘I have deliberately made myself scarce, Gervase.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I do not wish to get in your way.’
‘We enjoy your company, Brother Columbanus.’
‘And I delight in yours,’ said the other genially, ‘but therein lies the danger. When I break bread with you, I also have the urge to sup ale and that is a temptation I must suppress in every way.’
‘A monk is allowed to drink ale in moderation.’
‘Yes, Gervase. But what is moderation? If I drink one cup of ale, I tell myself that a second cup is a moderate amount. After that, a third is irresistible. By the time I am reaching for a fourth, all thought of moderation has left me. You see my dilemma?’ He gave a merry chuckle.
‘I am a weak vessel.’
‘Recognition of your weakness is a strength in itself.’
‘That is my solace. Since I cannot always resist the temptation, I will henceforth avoid it altogether. That is why I have been absent from the table.’
‘Where have you been taking meals?’
‘Here and there, Gervase,’ said Columbanus. ‘Here and there. The canons of St Frideswide’s fed me last night and gave me spiritual nourishment as well. I am on my way there now to draw on their fellowship.’
‘Then I will not hold you up.’
‘When will I be needed again?’
‘Not until Canon Hubert arrives.’
‘And when will that be?’
‘A day or two at least,’ reckoned Gervase. ‘Probably more. We rode from Winchester on swift horses. Canon Hubert will only travel on his donkey and that sets a much slower pace. He may not arrive until Sunday.’