‘Nothing like that,’ Alured protested, and frowned. ‘Really He was being kind and offering to pay us for your food and cleaning. He was generous.’
‘My brother is a clever, clever man,’ Matteo said. ‘I don’t think he ever makes a simple request. He may still be at Berkeley, Alured. When we reach it, I want you to swear to me that you will watch over me all the more carefully.’
‘Very well. I swear it,’ Alured said, but he did not believe there was any need. Benedetto struck him as a pleasant soul.
John was not of a mind to be convinced by a statement. ‘Who are you?’
‘I am William atte Hull,’ the man said. ‘Nephew to Michael here.’
‘He is telling the truth,’ Brother Michael said urgently. ‘You have to trust him, as you trusted me.’
John felt his resolution waver. His flank was hurting abominably, and he was confused and lost without Paul. If Paul were here, he would be able to understand better what he should do for the best. Now, on his own, he was unsure about everything.
‘I was sorry to hear of your companion’s death,’ William said. ‘I heard about the attack. It must have been terrible to see so many good men die.’
‘Paul was indeed a good man. He and I rode together for many years,’ John said. He looked from one to the other, and made a decision. If these two were enemies of his, he was already lost. They need only shout and half the escort would come in here to take him. Sighing, he thrust his sword back in the sheath. ‘He was the sort of man in whom you could place your trust. Not perfect, because he had his faults like all of us, but he was yet a kindly man. Honourable and courteous.’
‘I know. I met him a few times,’ the monk said, ‘when he was here with the King.’
‘He and I used to travel with our lord, Despenser, and the King quite regularly. They knew that they could count upon us. But he died after the adventure at Kenilworth.’
‘What actually happened there, John?’ William asked.
‘We were sorely beaten,’ he said shortly. As if in sympathy, his wound flared again, and he had to put a hand to his side with the pain.
‘I forgot your injury!’ Brother Michael castigated himself. ‘You are in pain. Come over here and let me see to it. I have some skill with curing ailments.’
John disliked the idea of taking his mail off, but the notion that this kindly-looking old monk might be seeking to hurt him was on the face of it ludicrous.
He began to tell them about the attack, while William helped him to remove his tunic and mail, setting them on a nearby bench until John was down to his braies. He had spoken to no one of that awful day since the meeting in the tavern, and to be able to unburden himself felt good.
‘We’d stopped earlier to pass the weapons to Stephen, as was agreed, but by the time he got to us, the rest would have been in the castle some hours, all of them waiting for us and the cart. God knows what he was thinking of, but he stopped at an ale-house, and that delayed us all. So when we reached the castle, the gatekeeper was already bellowing to have the gate locked. Stephen rode on ahead to try to delay that, because without the cart of weapons, we could achieve nothing. Paul and I went to assist, and suddenly all hell was let loose. A man in the gateway was preventing us from getting in, and there were arrows everywhere. .’ He broke off, remembering. ‘I was stabbed in the flank here by a man with a lance or something. The same fellow managed to strike Paul in the throat.’ He swallowed. ‘There was nothing I could do.’
‘I understand,’ the monk said, peering. ‘You have been lucky, indeed, my friend. The blade stabbed into your ribs — and painful though it is, that injury prevented the point from thrusting into your vitals. If your lungs or liver had been penetrated, you would not be here now.’
‘He paid for his attack,’ John said bleakly. ‘I saw to that.’
‘Good.’ The monk had a wad of cloth in his hand; he smeared some honey onto it, then added some paste from a jar. ‘You have a melancholic appearance. This should help soothe the injury.’
John winced as the thick pad was placed on his wound, and then Brother Michael began to wind a length of muslin about his chest and shoulder to hold it in place. He tied it up and stood back to survey his work. ‘That should hold for you,’ he said. ‘You must avoid any excessive strains with that arm.’
‘Is that intended to be a joke?’ John demanded, swinging his sword arm to see how painful it was.
Michael gave him a nervous smile. ‘No. I am sorry.’
John gave him thanks, and then began to dress once more. William helped, and then stood back as John bound his sword-belt about his waist.
‘You will be able to ride tomorrow when they leave?’ William enquired.
‘Yes, I will. What of you?’
‘I shall join you, I think. I have heard that there is a need for builders at the castle at Berkeley. I can carry a hod well enough.’
John nodded, then glanced at Brother Michael.
‘I, my son, will remain here,’ the elderly monk said. ‘It would be difficult for me to leave my priory without a lot of tedious explanation.’
‘And the less there is of that, the better,’ William said briskly. ‘This whole business is too important to leave to you and a few others, Master John.’
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Llatony Priory
Edgar was walking back from the stables, in search of Sir Baldwin, when he saw John stalk out from the small chamber. He knew that the man had been injured, after all — his stiffness and occasional winces had been noted, and John had explained that he had pulled a muscle — but he felt that John had a curiously shifty look about him now, and he moved off in a hurry as though eager to be away from the door.
Shortly afterwards, a friar appeared in the doorway too, glancing furtively about the court as he stepped aside to let another man out. Then he locked the door behind him, giving Edgar a challenging stare as he did so, as if daring him to comment.
Edgar was not the sort to be easily intimidated, so he simply smiled back and was about to walk onto the field in which the tents were being erected when on a whim he dawdled, and made his way slowly in the same direction as John.
‘Ride all this way, and then they expect us to set up camp for ’em too,’ Hugh grumbled. He was shuffling his way along the outer perimeter of the cloister, and had caught up with Edgar.
‘That man,’ Edgar said, pointing with a jerk of his chin at John. ‘Do you know anything about him?’
‘He came to Kenilworth with you, didn’t he?’
‘Yes, but I begin to wonder about him. He does not look like an ordinary man-at-arms.’
‘He’s just a guard who’s been with us from the castle,’ Hugh grunted.
‘He’s no knight,’ Edgar said. ‘He’s been injured though, hasn’t he?’
‘He said he’d pulled his muscle. What of it?’
‘Nothing, I daresay,’ Edgar said, and bestowed a beatific smile upon the glowering Hugh. ‘But it was curious to me that he arrived here with us and instantly appeared to know where he was, where to go, and what to do here. He knew a friar, and has already been treated for a wound, when the larger portion of our group are still erecting the tents.’
Hugh frowned. ‘He went to the infirmarer, did he? So what?’
‘Probably nothing,’ Edgar said easily. ‘But we are transporting a highly important man, friend Hugh. I would not wish for something unpleasant to happen.’
‘Nor me,’ Hugh said with certainty. ‘I’m going to sleep like a newborn pup when I get to my bedroll. Nothing’ll wake me.’
‘I am glad to hear it. For myself, I think I shall sleep more lightly tonight,’ Edgar said. He watched as John glanced about him, and then walked off towards the stables once more.
Hugh might not find anything suspect about the man, but Edgar did — and Edgar was too experienced a warrior to ignore his instincts.