At least this visit would be different, he reflected, looking about him. Everyone enjoyed watching the spectacle of a tournament and even the townsfolk would be happy with the profits they could make from the visitors to the market.
On entering Oakhampton, people on either side came out from shops and houses to gawp, a few to cheer, knowing that Lord Hugh’s household meant increased sales of food and drink, and that the celebration of the tournament would soon begin. Shabby townspeople thronged the streets, while urchins ducked under arms and stood at the roadside to gape at the men-at-arms in their finery, with their caps on their heads, their mail chinking merrily like so many coins as they walked, the badges holding the enamelled insignia of Lord Hugh shining at the horses’ harnesses, the leatherwork squeaking and groaning, the weapons gleaming blue or silver, the edges well-honed, the polearms slung over men’s shoulders ready to be swung into play. Well might the townsfolk stare. This cavalcade of twenty horsemen, carts, wagons, thirty more men-at-arms on foot and all the supply horses, not to mention the great destriers eagerly skipping and occasionally lashing out at each other or at a bystander, was the largest that the town had seen in years.
Sir Peregrine could see that Lord Hugh’s mind was not on the hordes waiting upon each side. His thoughts were still on the King and the recent death of Thomas of Lancaster.
The suddenness of Thomas’s death had shocked men up and down the country. For the wealthiest man after the King to be dealt with so peremptorily was terrible. A short hearing, then justice: he was set upon a mule to be taken to the gallows, but at the last moment his punishment was changed to simple beheading rather than hanging and quartering as a traitor deserved. Wiser counsel had prevailed: his noble blood was acknowledged in his death.
Lord Hugh had been a mover behind the scenes for some years, helping those who sought to obstruct the King’s foolish spend-thriftiness. Especially when Gaveston was created Earl of Cornwall and given rich estates. It was pathetic to see how the King doted on him. After Gaveston’s death he saw those who brought Gaveston to the block as traitors, and Lord Hugh knew that the King waited to hear of treason on his own part. As soon as that happened, Lord Hugh de Courtenay would be condemned.
In part it was to distract him that Sir Peregrine had suggested a tournament. Lord Hugh was an enthusiastic supporter of martial arts and his wife eagerly seized upon the idea: she knew her husband needed to relax. However, there was an ulterior motive: if the King should take it into his head to attack the West Country, it would be far better that Lord Hugh’s knights should have had practice, and that as many of the youngsters who wanted to win their spurs should do so, receiving spurs and arms from Lord Hugh himself. A man would only rarely consider treachery against the lord who had given him the collée to dub him knight.
Sir Peregrine knew King Edward II distrusted him. Last year Sir Peregrine had unsuccessfully advised his lord to join the Marcher lords standing against the King. For a time the alliance had been successful and the two Despensers, Hugh the Older and his son Hugh the Younger, had left the realm, the father to take up the idle life of an exile, his son to become a pirate thriving on the trade ships which passed along the Kent coast; but now the Despensers were back, and strengthened in pride and arrogance by the removal of their most bitter foe, Thomas of Lancaster.
Hugh Despenser the Younger had a long memory for those who had thwarted his appalling ambition. When Hugh the Younger was not given what he wanted, he imprisoned those who stood in his path – or killed them – and Sir Peregrine of Barnstaple was known to be implacably opposed to him. That was why Sir Peregrine wanted Lord Hugh’s men fully prepared for war.
His attention moved on to the strange knight who had appeared in the castle at Tiverton with his squire and archer. They were a very unsettling trio. Wandering knights were common, especially since the Earl of Lancaster’s men had been so fearfully cut about and dispersed, but Sir Edmund of Gloucester looked more dangerous than most. It was there in his grim, intelligent features, in his quick, assured movements and curious stillness when he stood silently observing others. He warranted watching. Sir Peregrine didn’t trust him, which was why he had sent the man and his companions on ahead with Lord Hugh’s harbingers and heralds.
Looking up, Sir Peregrine saw that they were almost at the castle and he looked about him, all senses alert. If someone wanted to harm him or his lord, it would be an ideal place for an ambush, here in the river’s cutting before the road took them all up to the castle’s barbican. Sir Edmund had an archer with him, Sir Peregrine reminded himself.
He glanced to either side, his tension growing. The townspeople didn’t look cheerful; they should have been happy to see their lord, yet there was a pall of anxiety or worse hanging over the place.
As Lord Hugh clattered over the timber bridge to the barbican, Sir Peregrine gazed up at the walls above. A short Welshman with a cruel scar from one ear almost to his nose, one of Sir Peregrine’s own men, nodded cheerily from the battlements and Sir Peregrine relaxed a little. If he thought all was safe, Sir Peregrine was content.
Men had been sent on with the harbingers to ensure that the place was prepared for Lord Hugh and the others. All told, Lord Hugh and his household were almost sixty men and that many required a goodly number of barrels of ale and of wine to be prepared, let alone the grain that must be put by for breadmaking. Oats must be stored for the horses, meats bought, the hall cleaned, the yard cleared, tapestries hung to stop the draughts from behind the shutters once the place was closed up for the night, and the portable altars set out.
Oakhampton might be small compared with other castles, but it offered Sir Peregrine a sense of safety as he entered the tunnel to the bailey, and he smiled to see his men at their posts. The main gates opened, and he trotted in behind Lord Hugh, their hooves ringing and striking sparks from the moorstone that paved the courtyard.
Chapter Fourteen
While the lord and his men ensconced themselves in Oakhampton Castle, Baldwin went with Margaret and Edith to watch some of the pre-tournament displays and to seek Simon.
‘I thought he’d be here when we arrived,’ Margaret said. She sounded a little disappointed.
‘There is much to be organised still,’ Baldwin said. He cast her a quick look. ‘And someone was murdered here last night so he has extra work.’
The shadows were growing and people lounged at rails watching a succession of hopeful squires exercising their masters’ horses through the lists, galloping the great mounts to warm them, turning and charging back again.
There were other entertainments as well. A juggler was sending an endless succession of balls up into the air, while idlers watched and unemotionally chewed pies or slurped from jugs of ale. Boys shot arrows at targets while farther on, a pair of men were circling warily, bare-chested, both holding small riding swords, fighting for God knew what reason – perhaps merely for money. Sometimes fights were staged to resolve arguments, sometimes just for display, but either way these combatants were winning a good reward. Every time the two backed away from each other, spectators threw coins.
It was an unequal battle, for one of the men was taller and had a longer reach, while the other had short arms. The shorter fellow was already wearing a pattern of bloody slashes across his chest while the other had only a couple of cuts on the palm of his left hand where he had defended himself. Baldwin, Margaret and Edith watched the two for some little while, having sent Hugh for a jug of wine, but soon it became obvious who would win and they lost interest. Edith professed a desire to see the weaker man prevail, but it was a forlorn hope; he had no chance, especially a moment later when the taller man ran him through the shoulder.