Sir Simon stalked from the chamber with as much dignity as he could muster, and when he was gone Sir Roger turned to me and grinned. The corners of his eyes crinkled beneath those massive brows, which I saw could express mirth as well as wrath, although in truth Sir Roger’s brows are most capable when displaying choler.
“What of Geoffrey Homersly?” I asked when Sir Simon had departed.
“What is it you wish? You believe he had part in the plot, or was he obedient to Sir Simon’s demands?”
“Sir Simon is a hard man against those beneath him in rank,” I suggested.
“Aye. A rabbit before his betters, a wolf to those inferior. What is your desire?”
“Leave him for a night in the dungeon, then tomorrow send him to his father in Cote. And tell him also he may not reside in Oxford for a year, nor set foot near Bampton. His father was recently injured and requires assistance on his manor. The youth will be well served doing useful work rather than following some rogue knight about Oxford.”
“Very well. It will be done.”
Chapter 14
The night was again spent in my father-in-law’s upper chamber. The evening was warm, so Caxton left open the windows. Any who violated curfew would have heard from the openings a quartet of snores, grunts, and snorts. I slept little, partly because of the racket, and partly because of thoughts I could not escape.
Sir Simon was the man who had plunged a dagger into my arm, and would have driven it through my back but for my good fortune. My supposition that these attempts upon my life were designed to bring an end to my search for Thomas atte Bridge’s murderer was now proved wrong. Sir Simon knew nothing of Thomas atte Bridge, and from Geoffrey Homersly’s testimony Sir Simon’s wrath was turned against Kate as much as to me. I had come to Oxford convinced that Homersly was responsible for all. He was responsible for none.
I turned on my pallet and entertained more pleasant thoughts. I would soon return to Bampton with ten pounds in a pouch, enough to rebuild Galen House. Indeed, enough to build better than the house Sir Simon burnt.
Arthur, Uctred, and I consumed a leg of lamb and bowls of pease pottage at an inn on the Canditch for our dinner next day, then made our way to the castle. Several men awaited the sheriff’s pleasure in the anteroom, but Sir Simon was not among them.
The clerk was instructed, I think, to notify Sir Roger when I arrived. So soon as I entered the chamber the man sprang to his feet and hurried to the door. Sir Roger appeared a moment later, ushering some petitioner from his presence. When the fellow had departed the sheriff motioned me to enter his chamber.
“I expect Sir Simon at any moment. If he arrives past the ninth hour he knows I’ll see him in the dungeon.”
“What if he does not return?” I asked.
“Then the devil take him… after I’ve done with him. He’ll come.”
“With ten pounds?”
“He is his father’s youngest son, apple of his eye, ’tis said. Such a lad can do no wrong. Sir John will fume a bit, but he’ll not withhold ten pounds if the sum will keep his lad from Oxford Castle dungeon, or a gallows.”
“Would the King’s Eyre send Sir Simon to the scaffold even though he failed to murder me and Kate?”
“Likely not. Sir John has displeased the king, to be sure, but he has yet some influence. Sir Simon knows this, but he does not know how much authority his father yet commands. Would you risk your neck on such an uncertainty? For ten pounds?”
The question required no answer, nor was there need for one. We heard voices in the anteroom and a moment later the clerk’s face appeared at the door.
“Sir Simon Trillowe is arrived, sir,” he announced.
Sir Roger opened the door between his chamber and the anteroom. Sir Simon stood stone-faced before the clerk. Behind him were two others. I recognized one: Sir Jocelin Hawkwode. Sir Jocelin had suffered some from his association with Sir Simon, but evidently not enough to cause him to end the relationship.
“You have Master Hugh’s coin?” Sir Roger asked abruptly. Sir Simon took half a step back as the sheriff approached him.
“Aye,” Sir Simon muttered, and produced a leather pouch of great size.
Sir Roger looked to his clerk. “Count it,” he ordered. To Sir Simon and his cohorts he commanded, “Sit, ’til Master John has made sure the amount.”
Sir Simon dropped the purse heavily upon the clerk’s table and sat sullenly while the clerk dumped the contents upon his board. I saw groats and pennies, some half-pennies, and golden gleams indicating Sir Simon had included many nobles in the heap.
Sir Roger and I stood while the clerk ordered the coins into piles, each with its like, then scratched upon parchment with his quill the number in each mound. He rubbed his chin, reviewed his count, then said, “’Tis two pence short, Sir Roger. Here is nine pounds, nineteen shillings, and ten pence.”
The sheriff glared at Sir Simon as if the knight had robbed a widow of her last two farthings. Sir Simon turned to Sir Jocelin and muttered something I could not hear. Sir Jocelin reached for his purse, produced two pennies, and after peering up at Sir Roger to be sure his standing from his bench would not be taken amiss, quickly thrust the coins toward the clerk. Master John placed them with their brothers, then proceeded to count the piles again. There were sixty-two nobles, and perhaps four dozen groats. All else were pennies and half-pennies, with a few farthings. The coins made a considerable heap, gleaming dull silver and gold upon the table.
“Ten pounds,” the clerk affirmed. Sir Roger, who had stood all the while with his arms folded across his chest, observing his clerk’s work, turned to Sir Simon. “Two years. Do not be found in Oxford or near Bampton for two years. It will go hard for you should you defy me. Now, begone from Oxford before nightfall.”
Sir Simon managed a weak scowl in my direction, but otherwise seemed eager to do the sheriff’s bidding. He was immediately upon his feet and with Sir Jocelin and his other companion disappeared into the corridor beyond the anteroom. I heard their rapid footsteps fade as they descended the steps at the end of the passage which led to the ground floor and the castle yard.
“Come,” Sir Roger said, and waved me before him into his chamber. From a window in that room we watched as the three knights entered the yard, took the reins of their horses from grooms, mounted, and spurred their beasts through the gatehouse into Great Bailey Street.
I was pleased to see Sir Simon’s back disappear past the gatehouse, and hoped he would heed the sheriff’s warning. Perhaps in two years’ time his ire would cool and his companions no longer bait him regarding Kate and his misshapen ear. Mayhap he would discover some other lass, one who would not mind a jutting ear, overlooking the deformed appendage for his better qualities. Of these I was unaware, but there must be some, else Kate would not have one time considered the man. I must ask her some day. Then again, perhaps not.
We bid Sir Roger good day, and I took my leave of the sheriff with much thanks. The leather purse hung heavy from my hand, and attracted some attention as we walked the Canditch to Holywell Street and Caxton’s shop. Arthur noted this scrutiny and when we arrived at the stationer’s bid me wait there with Uctred while he retrieved our horses from the stable behind the Stag and Hounds.
“Seen too many folk eyin’ the purse,” he explained. “Won’t do to have you about the streets. Even in day there be folk willin’ to risk their neck for a takin’ like that.”
I thought Arthur’s advice of merit, and while he was gone asked my father-in-law for a length of cord. This I tied under my cotehardie and fastened the purse there, hidden. I appeared then as a young man too much given to his trencher, but when I was seated upon Bruce the bulge would be little noted.