It was enough to persuade him that he never wanted to return to that castle. No: not to any castle.
He still had no idea what had happened to Ham or his money; all he knew was that the whole purpose of his journey had been to deliver the chest of gold, and he had failed quite spectacularly.
It put him in a foul temper, until he reflected that Ham could well have been caught by the posse that rushed past from the castle. That made his anger leave him in an instant. The idea that Ham was dead was awful. Luke would be happier to think that he had stolen the money and that the coins were going towards his family’s upkeep. At least Jen would have a dowry, if that was the case. He prayed that it might be so, and that Ham was even now in his house with the money.
Later he could find out.
For now, he reminded himself, he was a servant of God, and after the last days he should remember his duties. So rather than marching straight home and resting his sore feet, he first went to his church. Opening the door, he peered in, a little anxious in case a thief might have stolen the chalice or. . But no, it looked the same as usual. When he opened his chest, all was there, safe and well. Thieves, drawlatches and outlaws had become commonplace in recent years, and they were daring enough to rip the very crucifixes from the walls if they could see a profit in it. Nothing was sacred to such men.
The floor was a disgrace, though. Someone had been in here with muddy boots, and Father Luke tutted to himself. Before anything else, he must sweep. He fetched a besom and began to clean his little church, sweeping the dirt away from the red and cream floor tiles of which he was so proud, until there was a fine mist of particles hanging about the whole place. The sun illuminated these dancing motes and created bright columns of light in the church that gave it a still more magnificent aspect. Leaning on his broom, Luke felt his tiredness leach away, and a calmness settle upon him.
He returned his broom to its corner, and walked the length of the nave to kneel before the altar, hands clasped together.
‘Lord, forgive me for my anger and black choler, and I praise You for this peace. It is surely true that a man must seek comfort in the little things, in prayer, work, and-’
Just then, the door was thrown wide, and Father Luke snapped his eyes open, turning to see the woman striding towards him.
‘Where is he?’ Agatha demanded. ‘Where’s that good-for-nothing churl of a husband of mine? I suppose you left him in some ale-house where he could watch the wenches with his tongue hanging out? We’ve work to do here, and the fool is hiding somewhere!’
‘Agatha, I was going to ask you the same question!’
‘Me? How would I know where the useless prickle was? He was away with you, Father.’
‘But I haven’t seen him in days. I thought he was already here,’ the priest protested.
‘Oh, yes, of course you did. That’s why you sidled into town like a cur expecting a boot up its backside, is it? I wasn’t born yesterday, Father. I know you men. You promised you wouldn’t tell me, eh? You can say this, though: when will he be back? I need to know that, at least.’
‘Mistress Carter, I do not know,’ Luke told her. ‘We reached the castle three days ago, but as we got there, a fight broke out, and many men were killed. I was sure that your husband escaped, and. .’
Father Luke slowed and stopped. In his mind’s eye he saw again that furious posse hurtling along the road, falling upon the group of fleeing men and cutting them to pieces, before carrying on after the purveyor and the Dominican. If they had come across a lonely peasant with a cartload of money, Ham wouldn’t have stood a chance. The men-at-arms would have slain him before checking his cart. If they did check and saw the weapons. .
No, surely not! They were riding after the other two, the blackfriar and the other. He had seen the arrows flying after them, and shortly afterwards the posse poured out of the gatehouse. They must have passed by the carter on their way after the two — if, indeed, they even noticed him.
‘Yes, he must have escaped them,’ Father Luke said reassuringly. ‘I am sure that he is fine, mistress — you will simply have to be patient. He will return.’
‘Aye, as soon as he’s used up all his pennies, I suppose,’ she declared. She tugged at her belt, hitching up her breasts as she did so. ‘Well, I hope you’re right, because if that niddicock isn’t back soon, I don’t know that I’ll be responsible for my actions!’
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Balsall
The cart rattled along comfortably enough, while the carter strode beside it, and Dolwyn jolted and rolled on the thin plank that served as a seat. This cart was a goodly size. It gave Dolwyn a feeling that it could be useful somehow in releasing the King. Not that he had any idea how that might be achieved.
‘Where are you from?’ he asked conversationally.
The man was uncommunicative, as so many peasants were. Dolwyn had wandered into a small town on his way up here to Kenilworth where the grubby urchins in the street eyed him with unconcealed alarm. They were incapable of speaking with him, because he was foreign. He came from more than ten miles away. It was the sort of insular attitude which had always upset Dolwyn when he was at home.
He was about to press the man, when a grudging comment came: ‘Willersey. Small vill down southwest.’
‘What were you doing up there?’
‘Purveyor, he said he was. Came and told me to bring my cart. Said the castle wanted lampreys brought, and perry, and that I’d be well paid. Huh — never saw one penny. Then he set a load of swords and maces on my cart and there was that fight, and now I’m a hunted man, I think.’
‘You are,’ Dolwyn said with quiet conviction. ‘But so are a lot after that attack. What is your name, anyway?’
‘They call me Ham.’
‘So then, Ham Carter of Willersey, what will you do now?’
‘Go home, I suppose.’
‘That would be sensible. But when you get there, what then? If they can trace you — and the King and Mortimer have very good spies — will you have brought danger to your wife, children, friends?’
Ham plodded on, but his head sank in dejection. ‘What should I do?’
‘My friend, I am sure that you will be safe enough. I merely asked. Now, for me, I will strike out westwards, away from the castle, and then follow the River Severn for a while. That will take me away from any search, I think.’
‘How can you be sure of that, sir?’
‘Good Ham, you can call me by my name: I am Dolwyn of Guildford. I am sure enough because only a strong force would dare to attack the Earl of Lancaster’s castle at Kenilworth. Not only is it a mighty castle, it is owned by the second most powerful man in the realm.’
Ham’s face grew longer. ‘Master Dolwyn, what can I do? I am only a simple yeoman, when all is said and done, and I don’t want any part of this sort of nonsense.’
Dolwyn smiled. He felt for his dagger. ‘Look, friend, let’s take our rest, eh?’
Nodding, Ham led the cart off the road onto a patch of common land, and began to unhitch the pony as Dolwyn climbed down.
He wouldn’t feel a thing, Dolwyn told himself as Ham turned away to pull a pot from the cart for boiling water. He would make it quick, he thought, his hand on the knife. . But then he changed his mind. Not yet — not today. For now, travelling with a second man was perfect, in case anyone was looking for him. On his own he would stick out like a priest in a brothel. Here, on a cart with a man who was almost local, he would be less noticeable.