Simon studied his daughter. She looked calm, if ratty at being accosted like this, but there was no trace of guilt on her countenance; no flush of shame. He was about to thank the lad at her side when he saw that from his belt the squire carried a woman’s token, and at the same moment he recognised Edith’s neck-scarf.
‘Father, Squire William rescued me,’ she said. ‘Even with his wounds, he came to protect me.’
‘Yes, very good,’ Simon said coldly. ‘And now I shall take you to your mother so that she can see you’re well. She was petrified; didn’t know where you had got to or whether you’d been captured by some felon.’
‘I shall come along shortly,’ Edith said distantly.
‘You will come now!’
‘I can look after her, Bailiff,’ William said.
‘I thank you, but I can protect her well enough,’ Simon said with poisonous gratitude.
William’s face coloured. ‘I think you should trust the man who has saved her already.’
‘Do you? I think I should not trust the boy she has been seeing behind her parents’ backs.’
‘I haven’t,’ Edith declared hotly.
‘No? You mean that he found that token lying in the road?’ Simon exclaimed angrily, pointing at William’s belt. ‘Don’t lie to me, Edith!’
‘Bailiff, there’s no need to raise your voice,’ William said.
‘I shall speak to my own daughter as I wish, and I would be grateful if you would not interrupt.’
‘Father, William simply happened to be there and saved me from the peasants behind the ber frois. I don’t see why you can’t be thankful that…’
‘Some puppy took you away from your mother? Or that he met you clandestinely and has been carrying your token? Or that in order to conceal it from your parents, you chose to lie to me?’
Edith froze at his furious outburst. ‘I didn’t lie to you.’
‘No, you were careful to deceive us more subtly, weren’t you?’
‘Bailiff,’ William tried again, but Simon made a gesture with his hand.
Approaching them, Baldwin saw Simon step forward. He saw him reach for Edith, but at the same time William retreated a pace, his hand whipping to the long-bladed dagger that hung at his belt.
Roaring, ‘No!’ Baldwin sprang forward the remaining thirty yards. Simon, he saw, jumped back as the blade danced in the sunlight; he heard Edith give a short shriek, her hand going to her mouth, while William took her shoulder and pulled her towards him. Simon made as if to reach for his daughter, but William’s knife was already there and Simon almost grazed his forearm on the wicked steel.
Baldwin darted to William’s side, and the boy saw his movement and shot a glance at him. As Baldwin saw William’s eyes take him in, he kept going until he was almost behind the lad. Simon made a grab for his daughter and William’s attention was diverted. He turned to face Simon and instantly Baldwin was in close, one foot lashing out to catch William behind the knees. The youth’s legs collapsed and he fell like an arrow plummeting into water, his wrist gripped in Baldwin’s hand. Simon took Edith’s arm and pulled her away.
William reached for his knife, which he had dropped, but Baldwin stepped upon it and put a hand on the lad’s shoulder. ‘Enough!’ he cried heartily. ‘There is no blood spilt, no harm done. I think we should forget that this ever happened.’
He held William’s gaze as he spoke, and although his tone was genial and pleasant, there was nothing amiable in his face. William could see cold contempt there, and glittering anger in his brown eyes.
‘I’d give a shilling on the Bailiff,’ one voice called. Another drily observed, ‘You think so? I’d give the boy my shilling. The Bailiff needed a friend to beat one boy.’
‘There will be no more fighting,’ Baldwin stated. ‘No, and if you want to see fighting, go and watch the jousts. That is where the action is. The squire here won’t fight with the Bailiff, after all. The Bailiff can’t be seen to be squabbling with a squire, and no squire who expects to be dubbed knight would want his honour stained by picking a quarrel with the father of his maid, would he?’ Baldwin smiled, still staring, unblinking, at William. ‘Not unless he wanted his lord to stop his promotion. A squire who fights Lord Hugh’s Bailiff can scarcely expect him to be impressed. Lord Hugh is more likely to refuse to knight a man who insults his officers like that.’
Squire William nodded in good part. ‘You are right, Sir Baldwin, and I am impressed with your skills. I’d like to pit myself against you in the tournament.’
‘I fear my own days as a jouster are far gone,’ Baldwin said untruthfully. If he never had to joust again, he would be content.
‘Perhaps we could test our relative prowess?’
‘There would be little merit in a fight between a youth full in his prime and an old fool like me,’ Baldwin countered politely. ‘I am sure your better training and the strength of your youth would show.’
He bent and offered William his hand. The squire grunted with pain and winced as he clambered to his feet. Baldwin motioned towards the knife. ‘Do not leave it or it might rust,’ he said.
‘Bailiff, my Lady Edith,’ William said, and gave them his courtliest bow. ‘I look forward to meeting you again soon. Sir Baldwin, good day.’
Baldwin watched him go with a small smile. ‘I used to be much like that,’ he said.
‘Thank God you’ve learned to be more respectful to your betters,’ Simon grated.
‘He was perfectly respectful until you insulted him!’ Edith burst out. ‘Why did you have to be so rude to me?’
‘You deliberately misled me and your mother,’ Simon rasped. ‘Don’t now try to blame us for your own failings.’
‘I did not lie,’ she equivocated.
‘When we asked you about your neck-scarf, you changed the subject, didn’t you?’
‘That has nothing to do with… ’
‘Come back now. I can’t trust you alone.’
She stamped her foot with a quick fury. ‘You can’t expect me to leave the field just because you want to go to the castle! I won’t!’
Simon stepped closer, and the light of battle was in his eye. ‘You can come back with me willingly or not, but by God’s cods, you are coming back right now. I will not leave your mother thinking you could be in danger, no matter how badly you behave.’
Edith drew in a breath, meeting his angry stare with a gaze quite as unflinching. ‘I won’t.’
‘Then I’ll carry you.’
‘You wouldn’t dare!’
Baldwin groaned. ‘May I interrupt? Edith, I think you should assume your father will dare do exactly that, so please do not tempt him. And Simon, Edith is prepared to fight you, so may I suggest that Edith comes back with me? If you would care to follow, Simon? There is no need to create even more of a spectacle than we already have, is there?’
His suggestion was followed, to Baldwin’s gratification, although some of his pleasure was dulled as he led the way to the castle when he heard a voice declare:
‘Wot, won’t there be a fight, then? I was going to bet tuppence on the squire.’
Chapter Twenty-Three
Philip Tyrel contemplated the field as the last of the squires handed his reins to a friend and dropped from the saddle with relief. It was a long way down, sitting up there, with the high seating position inches above the mount’s back. Once there, leaning back into the cantle that surrounded a man’s body, curving around his kidneys, one realised how far it was to fall.
He had witnessed the tilt between William and Geoffrey, but he had seen many such collisions in the lists – some fatal and others in which, miraculously, both seemed unhurt – and now his interest was taken by the direction in which William was going, back towards the pavilions.