And the man was worth the effort.
Simon and Baldwin had been to France themselves, and Simon knew all the problems of long-distance travelling — not only the exhaustion, but the misery of a ship in poor weather, the emptiness of the belly after hours of throwing up, the natural desire for the journey to end. And late last year, he and Baldwin had been forced to fly from France in peril, so they believed, of their lives, since their friend Bishop Walter had been threatened with death while there. Now, as Baldwin had mentioned once or twice, the actual threat of death from men while they were on an official embassy from England, was probably less than they had perceived at the time. Still, Simon could all too easily remember the petrifying terror of their flight.
This fellow, so he said, had experienced the same. It was quite possible.
‘Well? You will have to answer us now,’ he said, his sense of urgency overwhelming him as the man reached across and lifted the jug. He seemed about to raise the whole thing to his lips, but Simon’s scandalised expression made him reconsider, and he poured some into a little green-glazed pot.
‘I would like to, masters. But perhaps I should wait until the king’s own sheriff has arrived. This is very important information.’
Baldwin stirred, but said nothing. His head fell to his breast, and he appeared to study the table’s surface near him. It was left to Simon to speak with a touch of asperity in his voice. ‘I am the Keeper of this Port, and as such I have authority. If you have any news for us, I suggest you tell us quickly. You wouldn’t want your information to become out of date, would you? Your value would reduce accordingly.’
‘You think I care about such things?’ Paul said loftily. ‘I know my place, and the importance of my information, Keeper, so there is no point you trying to get what you can out of me.’
‘What is that supposed to mean?’ Simon demanded, and he felt the blood rush to his face as the fellow gave him a calculating look.
‘Keeper, I am no fool. I know how the world works. You intend to take the news I bring and get credit for it, don’t you? It won’t be the first time it’s happened, and it won’t be the last. Well, this time I intend to gain full reward for all the risks I have taken. I’ll not give it all up to the first officer who pays me one lamb shank and a cup of wine! Hah! Only a fool would do that.’
Simon sprang to his feet and would have grasped the man by the throat across the table for his insolence, but Baldwin held up a hand to stop him. ‘Let me speak with him a moment, Simon,’ he murmured.
Paul had shoved his stool back until it was at the wall behind him, and now he curled his lip disdainfully as he contemplated Simon. ‘That’s right, man. You sit down again. Your friend here doesn’t need a mastiff to bate me.’
‘No,’ Baldwin agreed. ‘I am sure I don’t. Now, you told us that you were the brother of Sir James de Cockington, I believe. I know of the brother of that man. I heard about him while I was in the company of the Bishop of Exeter. But you know the bishop, don’t you, rector? He is the man who seeks you here in England.’
‘You cannot send me back to him! I have business with the king!’
‘You will answer our questions now, fully, and in the most detailed manner possible. Afterwards, we shall consider what would be best to do with you.’
Paul licked lips which had suddenly parched. It was tempting to try to bluff his way with these two stern-faced bastards, but … he wasn’t sure that they would fall for his stories. And if he tried to feed them a diet of invention, he was quite sure that they would be the cause of his undoing. They looked the sort of men who knew their own value; they wouldn’t simply throw him to the bishop and forget him, they would make sure that any news he had was taken to the highest level possible. And he meanwhile would languish in a gaol very like the one he had just experienced. That was not to be borne.
‘Very well.’
‘How do you know about the duke?’ Simon asked.
‘I was in Paris earlier this year, and fell into his company. His last tutor was sent away, and I was taken to teach him. The queen interviewed me herself,’ he added with pride.
‘Did you stay in Paris, then?’
‘No, of course not. There was much to see in other places, so we went to Montreuil, and would still be there, I suspect, but for an unfortunate incident.’
‘What?’
‘One morning we were out riding, and I saw some men coming towards us,’ Paul said, embellishing shamelessly. ‘It was due to my warning that the assault was beaten off, but it was clear after that, that it wasn’t safe for the duke to remain so close to the coast, so near to England. He was advised,’ and here his tone left no doubt as to the perspicacious adviser’s identity, ‘and he accepted the advice: to leave Montreuil and ride to safer places, remaining in each town only a couple of nights, not more, so that those who might seek to catch or hurt him would never be able to keep up with him.’
‘What sort of guard does he have about him?’ Baldwin said.
‘A small number of knights and men-at-arms. There is Ralph la Zouche, Richard de Folville, some twenty or so all told now. It is not enough to protect him from a determined attack, certainly.’
‘And what are they doing?’ Baldwin asked.
‘They guard him, of course.’
Baldwin looked at him unblinkingly. After some moments, Paul looked away, then, ‘What? What is it?’
‘You have insulted my companion here, the honourable Keeper of the Port. Now you seek to insult me as well. Do so, and you will learn the full meaning of pain. You are a slug who is dishonourable and dishonoured by your treatment of an innocent woman. Don’t think to speak so freely to me again! Now: do they guard him from attack, or guard him as gaolers?’
‘A little of both, perhaps. But I think that they tend to seek to serve him, not hold him against his will.’
‘So they could be persuaded to come back to England with him?’
‘It would cost much to bring them back! The Folvilles have been responsible for murder and robbery. You try to get them back here without a king’s pardon, and you’ll find your efforts wasted.’
‘So you think that they would have to be assaulted and killed?’
‘Oh, yes. But you can easily find him, which is the main thing.’
‘But you took days to get here, I assume. So he will have moved, having taken this most sensible advice from his tutor?’
‘Ah, but he is intending to be at the cathedral in Rouen for the Feast of the Nativity of Our Lady.’
‘Why?’ Baldwin asked. His head was set to one side as he listened intently. ‘The Feast of the Nativity of Our Lady has nothing to do with Rouen; she is patron of Lourdes, and that is many miles away.’
‘True. But the duke is a man most fixated with prophecies and history. Some of these ludicrous tales say that he will be a king to rival the Holy Roman Emperor himself and-’ He caught sight of the expression on Baldwin’s face, and reflected that this odd knight might well think that the duke was a paragon of virtue. So many people in the realm did, and deprecated any insults. ‘Anyway, he has a lively fascination with all history and a desire to see the cathedral where King Richard Coeur de Lion’s heart is buried. He must have loved Rouen much.’
‘Why that specific date?’ Simon said. ‘Didn’t King Richard die earlier in the year?’
‘Your studies do not mislead you,’ Paul said sarcastically, ‘but if you had but a little more education, you would recall that, although King Richard died in April, yet was he born on a glorious day in September: on the Feast Day of Our Lady Herself. The prince wishes to visit the cathedral to see the tomb.’
Baldwin and Simon exchanged a look, then rose and made for the door. There the gaoler waited, leaning against the wall and picking his teeth with a long splinter of wood. ‘All done, masters?’ he said.