Now Hugh frowned, his head low on his shoulders. ‘There’s some cold meat and ale. And bread.’
‘Excellent! Capital! You know, this reminds me of a manor I used to know a long way from here. Up towards Wiltshire,’ the knight said, staring out over the view. A happy smile spread across his features as he stood surveying the little plot of pasture, the field beyond, the small coppice and shaw, and the hill that rose steeply in the distance, thick with old trees. ‘A pleasant little farm, that was. And they brewed some fine ales there. Hah! I hope yours is as good, eh? Where’s the hall, then?’
Hugh called for a groom, cursorily throwing the horse’s reins over a tree’s limb, before hurrying inside.
The house was a simple one: the cross passage was screened from the hall, and two doors on the right led to the buttery and pantry, while beyond was the little dairy. Margaret had persuaded Simon to modernise, and now there was a chimney rising from the hall itself, a recent innovation that did little, to Hugh’s mind, to alleviate the thick smoke that always filled the room.
In fact, he could see Rob still blowing ineffectually at the fire, trying to force a glimmer from it, while Sir Richard strode inside. The knight was peering down at him with a frown on his face, watching intently.
‘GOOD GOD, BOY!’ he bellowed at last. ‘DO YOU HAVE NO IDEA?’ He pushed Rob aside, then went down on all fours, blowing steadily. In only a short time there was a strong crackling noise and Sir Richard sat back on his haunches, studying the burgeoning flames with satisfaction. ‘That’s how you get a fire going, boy! Now, off with you. I need bread, cheese, ale, some scraps of salad if you can find them, and if you have a meat coffin, so much the better. A little pasty always works a wonder on an empty stomach. Oh, and if the ale’s thin, a pint of wine too. I need to keep me strength up. Stop!’
Rob, who had been sulkily making his way to the door, paused and turned to look at the knight.
Sir Richard’s eyes narrowed and he subjected Rob to a short study. ‘You are the boy from Dartmouth, eh? The one the good Keeper of Dartmouth found?’
Rob gave a surly nod.
‘Ah. I had cause to chastise you there, I remember. You didn’t get up in the morning, did you? Don’t make me have to do so again, lad. Go on, be off! And look sharp, too!’
Sir Richard shook his head as the fellow darted into the buttery. ‘Master, that churl deserves the whip more than a number of the felons I see before me in my courts. He needs a firm hand, eh?’
Hugh said nothing. The boy needed discipline, it was true, but Hugh didn’t need help or advice from the knight. He had taught enough dogs to know how to raise animals.
The food arrived shortly, and Sir Richard looked at the wooden platter with an approving eye as he seated himself. Picking up the quart jug of ale that Rob placed at his hand and sniffing it with every sign of pleasure, he raised it to his mouth, closed his eyes, and sank a pint in three immense gulps. In a few more moments, the second pint was gone and the knight gave a belch of happiness as he passed the empty container back to Rob. ‘Refill it, boy.’
He then pulled a knife from his belt and began to cut his meats, shoving each piece into his mouth with gusto. Only when the bread was gone, and his trencher clear of all meats and leaves, did he lean back and take up the third quart of ale, a beatific smile spreading over his face.
‘There now, that feels much better,’ he said. ‘Where’s your master, Hugh? Did you say he was away? What about his wife, eh?’
‘They’re at Exeter. Seeing their daughter and grandson,’ Hugh said.
‘That so, eh? Right. I’ve urgent messages for him. You’d best tell me how to reach him there.’ Sir Richard glanced out through the open window. The sky to the south was darkening, with pink and red and orange clouds standing still as the sun sank to the west, out of sight. ‘Can’t go tonight, though. We’ll have to go in the morning.’
‘I can’t leave here,’ Hugh objected. ‘My master told me to stay and look after the place.’
‘He’ll want you with him, when he hears my news,’ the knight said with certainty.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Mickleton
Alured and the three men guarding Master Matteo di Bardi were conscious of the trees and bushes on either side as they rode up towards the village, and their eyes moved from one possible hiding-place to another.
For a London man, this landscape was alarming. Alured would rather be walking alone and unarmed in a narrow alley in London, than here. Any tree trunk could conceal a bowman, while all the greenery about the ground would be ideal for a determined band of outlaws ready to make an ambush. Alured had heard of many bands which roamed about the kingdom preying on poor travellers, and he had no intention of becoming one of their victims.
It was as they were approaching the village, dusk darkening the countryside around them, and as the men about him were beginning to relax, that they saw the man walking along in front of them.
He looked as though he had spent many days on the road already, and from his scuffed and muddied boots to his worn hat, he was a picture of exhaustion. Alured paid him little heed, but when he heard Matteo give a sharp intake of breath, he hurriedly turned in his saddle. ‘Master?’
‘Dolwyn?’ Matteo was staring at the fellow with a gaping mouth. ‘I thought you must be dead! What have you been doing?’
‘You want me to tell you?’
Matteo threw a look at Alured. ‘No, no, you are right. Master Alured, please take these other men with you to the vill. Find a tavern to rest in. I shall follow on shortly.’
‘I’ll stay,’ Alured said. ‘You could be in danger.’
‘There is none here. You know my man. . He is my confidential adviser.’
Alured looked from Matteo to the tatty man glaring at him. ‘I remember Dolwyn. I have told you before these other men that I don’t think I should leave you,’ he stated. ‘If you insist, I will go, but I don’t like it. Will he guard you to the town? This is dangerous country.’
‘Just be gone,’ Matteo said wearily. ‘I shall join you at the tavern as soon as I may.’
‘Very good, Master Matteo.’ Alured called to the others, and clucked his horse, urging it onwards. They were soon in the little village, and there Alured busied himself with arranging accommodation and food, but all the while, his attention kept returning to the roadway.
The tavern-keeper lighted candles and told him, ‘I’m supposed to keep the door closed and locked at night.’
‘You will be paid. This door remains open until my master is back.’ Alured held the man’s gaze for a long moment, until the landlord looked away and nodded.
Alured sat up and waited for Matteo to return, sitting on a stool outside the tavern’s door, staring back the way they had come, wondering what on earth Matteo was doing with the man.
Willersey
It was late when Ham steered the cart into the side of the roadway at the top of the enormous hill that spread out east of Broadway, and he sat there for a long while, staring down into the plain. In the gathering gloom, he could make out little twinkles of light where candles had been lighted, and there was a series of columns of smoke rising in the still air. It looked so peaceful.
Down there was his home.
He had thought often enough that it was a prison. It was a place he’d been tied to by land, by custom and by duty. So many times he had thought about breaking free, running away and finding a new life. But it was a dream, that was all. There were bonds that kept him here, especially his love for his daughter.
On occasion he had thought of the death of his wife, with a kind of longing. He could never kill her himself, but the idea of her death was attractive. Agatha was like a leaden weight about his soul, preventing him doing any of the things he wanted. Lonely, without the comfort of a woman’s love, Ham existed in a world of unremitting toil.