Speaking with a low, thoughtful tone, he went on: ‘It all began as a simple way to support him. They put me into his household to watch him, you know. Thomas of Lancaster, Walter Stapledon and the others all wanted the King observed so that he could be controlled. But Bishop Walter and I disagreed with the whole idea when it became clear that Earl Thomas wanted to control him. What right did we have to keep an eye on him all the time? None. So soon after I was made Chamberlain, I began to learn how to help him. He is a kind man, you know?’
He turned as though seeking support. Sir Ralph had little idea what to do, so he nodded his head. It seemed sufficient, and the King’s closest adviser turned back to the window.
‘I gradually began to win his trust. And we discovered a closer friendship, too. A mutual affection. It was little more than that, I swear. But we have similar interests; fascinations. Why should we not? And I have enriched myself, but that is no crime. All before me in the same position have taken what they can, just as I have, and just as any will do after I am dead. Any man who doesn’t enrich himself when he may, is a fool.’
‘I think I need to join my men.’
‘I’m finished, aren’t I?’ Despenser said suddenly. He turned from the window and seated himself in a little chair. ‘There’s nothing we can do. If we raise a host of men from Ireland, will we be able to bring them back here? I doubt me that. And if we do, there will be a bloodbath, and the people of England would never forgive me, nor the King, for the waste of English blood. That bitch has managed all without killing a single man. She landed without dispute, runs about the country without hindrance, and soon she will be here and will have taken the whole kingdom.’
‘If the King were to hold his banner against her, perhaps her allies would refuse to fight him,’ Sir Ralph said. ‘Just as during the Marcher Wars. The Lords Marcher would not lift their standards against his. All submitted.’
‘That was then. This is now. She has already put money on my head, did you know that? The impudence of the bitch! She dared to offer money for my capture, yet she is the invader. But her men are all from Hainault, and they will obey her, the daughter of the King of France, rather than bow to King Edward of England on his own land.’
‘Perhaps so.’
‘So I will be exiled. I’ll have to go to the Holy Roman Empire or beyond, to avoid her clutches, and those of her brother. I shall become a wanderer without home or property. And Mortimer, her lover, will win all he wants. His family has beaten mine at the end.’
‘You want me to bring the friars where, when they have had their negotiation with the Queen?’
Despenser stared at him, and now Sir Ralph was sure that there was genuine desperation in his eyes. Sir Hugh had wanted him to understand him, to understand his position.
‘Take them to Cardiff. My people hold that town, and it should remain safe a little longer.’
And with that Sir Hugh le Despenser stood and went to the window again, saying nothing more.
Sir Ralph waited for a dismissal, but when it was clear there would be none, he walked from the room without speaking further. Sir Hugh was obviously convinced that he would be caught and slain, just as others had been before him.
Fourth Wednesday after the Feast of St Michael[22]
Outskirts of Bristol
After riding steadily, it was a relief for Baldwin to see the city ahead of them as they came out of the trees. For all his vigilance, there had been no sign of a man following them, and he began to wonder if his alarm and suspicion had been justified, but then the memory of the bearded assailant at the inn came to his mind, and he urged his horse and his companions on to greater efforts.
It was a great problem that horses could not cover more than a man on foot in a day. The King’s Messengers were aware of that: a man on foot was expected to cover thirty to thirty-five miles, which was the same as a man on a horse. It was only at times of extreme urgency that a messenger would be given free passes and the right to demand a change of horse at every twenty miles or so. Other men had to accept the fact that if they wanted their mounts to survive a long journey, they must allow the beasts to rest at regular intervals.
Their journey had not been easy for the last day or so. From Salisbury, as they pressed on, they had come upon a number of men who were being arrayed and counted for the King. More and more were filling the streets and lanes, no matter which road they took, and it was growing dangerous. Baldwin could understand the quizzical looks he received from some of them, but it was unpleasant nonetheless. Many of them clearly wondered where he was going, and why. Some believed he could be a messenger for the Queen and Mortimer, and would have had him arrested and held, and it was only his belligerence as he demanded to speak to their commanders that ensured his release at the various stopping points.
‘We will be there by noon,’ Baldwin said, gazing at the city.
‘It will be an immense relief to be home again,’ Redcliffe said. He had not survived their journey unscathed. His face was more lined and fretful, his complexion more sallow and unhealthful, and now he sat on his horse with his fingers tapping at the reins as though keeping time with music only he could hear.
The sight of his distress was enough to convince Baldwin. ‘We shall wait here and rest our mounts. We are near enough, there is no need to force the beasts on without account for their health. They have brought us far enough already today.’
‘There are more, look!’ Jack called out as the three swung sore legs over their saddles, pointing down into the valley before them.
Baldwin stared, shaking his head. ‘The sight of so many men marching to their doom is a terrifying one,’ he said.
There must have been more than a hundred of them. All clad in fustian and other cheap cloths, a mass of brown, green and faded red clothes, walking with their heads hanging, weapons of all types over their shoulders, dangling from slack hands or sheathed. Baldwin could see them as though they were walking only a yard from him: brown faces anxious and alarmed, boys of fourteen, men of fifty, all drawn along by that same responsibility to their lord. All knowing that they must stand in a line and defend each other against the force arrayed against them. Many must die, because with cheap helmets and little steel protection, they were mere targets to the arrows and lances of the professional killers who stood opposing them.
‘It is a terrible sight,’ he breathed.
‘Nay, Sir Baldwin,’ Redcliffe said, and now he had a gleam of excitement in his eye. ‘These are courageous men, all of them prepared to fight and die for their King! What could be more glorious than that?’
Baldwin turned to face him. ‘When they have chewed on a battle, and have survived, then you can tell me that they will enjoy their glory. Most will not. War is a hideous grinding of men and bodies, not a cause for celebration. These men will soon face Mortimer’s knights and squires, and when they do, they will learn what it is to endure pain.’
‘You have fought, Sir Baldwin. War is sad, I make no doubt, but the fact is, these fellows will have the honour of serving their King and their lord. There is nothing better for a man than that.’
Baldwin shook his head. He had served, and those were battles which served a purpose, for they were to defend the Holy Land from the depredations of the Saracens. When he had been at Acre, fighting alongside the Knights Templar, he had fought for the protection of God’s holy land, and to serve the pilgrims who wished to visit it. He had seen warfare at close hand, and had killed his foes. Yes, and seen his friends hacked to pieces, pierced by arrows, slammed against the walls by enormous ballista bolts or splashed across masonry by a mangonel’s rocks. There was nothing pleasant, honourable or good about such a death.