William gave a wary smile. ‘Your Majesty, you have to understand that the man has the responsibility for protecting the familyand seeing to it that his sons can make their mark in the world. If he did not seek to ensure that the sons would forge theirown way, the wife might make them stay at home, and that would not help them to honour God with their great deeds, would it?’
‘You think that all women merely want to cosset their little boys? I would endeavour to look after my youngsters, and thatis quite right. It is the duty of a woman to be maternal. But to suggest that she would willingly acquiesce when he beat her… it is obscene.’
‘The Lady Ermengarde would see that her punishment fitted her offence. A woman should not question her man’s decisions, afterall. A wife should honour and obey her husband.’
‘You think so?’
‘While he is in his right mind, your highness.’
She gave a short grin, as cynical and unhappy as any he had ever seen on her face. ‘Well, as the daughter of a king, marriedto another king, I would protect my children against any threat I perceived, and would not willy-nilly obey a foolish command. Nor would I submit to being beaten. Never!’
William had never seen her quite so discomposed. It was natural for her to be upset on occasion, and he had seen her in tearsbefore, when her husband had snubbed her, ignored her, or simply behaved as though she was no more important than one of theservants in his kitchens. That was normal enough. This, though, this was different.
‘Your highness?’
‘I wish to meet him again.’
‘Who?’
She looked at him very directly. There was no one else in the room, other than her blonde maid, Alicia. ‘You know. The Peacock.’
His heart sank. It was days since he had last been told to find Mortimer and deliver a message. ‘Your Majesty, that wouldbe rather dangerous now. Have you heard of the man killed out at the front of the castle?’
‘Do you think me deaf and stupid? Of course I have heard. It was a man-at-arms, Sir Charles’s servant, wasn’t it? So what?’
‘The man was hunting the Peacock. He and Sir Charles were intending to bring him to bay and capture him so that they couldtake his head to the King.’
‘How foolish. It would take more than two men to do that. The Peacock is a wary fighter. As that man has learned, I suppose.’
‘But how can I bring him here to you again? Before, it was easier. Now there will be men all over the place, trying to ensureyour safety. If I bring him here, there will be many who will seek to kill him,’ William protested. ‘The knights are all menwho desire money, your highness. They will be keen to catch him and show their devotion to the King by executing him. He is a traitor, after all. And Sir Charles will egg them on. From all I’ve heard, he is most anxious to have revengeon the man who killed his man-at-arms.’
‘You will speak to the Peacock and arrange for him to meet me here this evening as dark falls. Do this for me.’
‘Your highness,’ he agreed miserably.
Sir Charles had left the chapel a little while before, just as all the servants were making their way to the hall for theirlunchtime meal, but he didn’t follow them. He was not even remotely hungry. The idea of food did not occur to him. There wasnothing he desired. All his attention was fixed upon the one aim: finding the man who had killed his servant and seeing himdie.
There was no doubt in his mind who was responsible. Roger Mortimer had realised that Paul was following him, and had killedhim. No one else could have wanted him dead. So Sir Charles would see Mortimer sent on his way to hell, and would take hishead himself.
Mortimer must have plenty of men of his own in the area, to have been able to catch Paul. Paul had been badly beaten up, andso surely the traitor must have had many fellows at his back. Otherwise, Paul would have been able to defend himself. SirCharles had little doubt about that. Paul had been an excellent fighter.
Yes, a good fighter. Sir Charles had seen him in one battle defend himself against three men, and he despatched them quicklywhen he saw that some other scrote was trying to make off with his horse as he fought. Then there was that time in the tavernhere in France. A lad had stumbled over Sir Charles’s foot, hurting his toe, and as a result they’d been drawn into a fightwith a whole group of peasants. It was Paul who killed most of them, another man they only met that day killed one more, andwhen they left the inn it was Paul who remembered the boy who’d started all the trouble, and went back to kill him too. He would not leave unfinished business, Paul.An excellent man-at-arms. The best squire Sir Charles had ever had.
‘Christ’s pain, but I miss him!’ he moaned. He was in a corridor in the main castle — but he didn’t know how he’d reachedit. He must have been walking in a dream. Christ’s bones, but that was worrying. If he could wander about like that, not evenpaying attention to his surroundings, then he was in a worse state than he had already thought. He needed to concentrate,to keep his mind set on his purpose. There was no earthly point in his finding Mortimer, only to be slain by the bastard becausehe was distracted from the task at hand. That way lay death.
‘Sir Charles. I was sorry to hear about your man. I know you’d been with him for a long time, eh?’
It was Sir Peter de Lymesey. The tall knight stood nearby, peering over at Sir Charles with his slightly hooded eyes, muchlike a hawk. He was not a demonstrative man. More a knight who would do anything he needed to protect himself. Someone whomight help for money, too, Sir Charles thought suddenly. As was Sir John de Sapy. And both could fight well. They’d provedthat over the years.
If he was to attempt to capture and kill Mortimer, he would need men capable of fighting.
‘Sir Peter, I have a proposal for you.’
Philip and Adam walked into the bar area with feet that felt like lead.
‘There you are,’ Janin said cheerily. ‘Want some ale?’
‘He told me what you were planning,’ Ricard said sourly. ‘Are you both mad? If we couldn’t jump him all together, how in God’sname did you think you’d be able to-’
‘We weren’t going to just jump him. We were going to knock him on the head once and for all,’ Philip admitted.
‘So you were going to waylay him and stab him to death? Here in the castle with the whole of the Queen’s retinue on hand?Ingenious!’ Ricard said witheringly.
‘Trouble was, he turned up with some other bastard in tow. The two together made it impossible.’
‘How so, Philip? And you so brave!’ Janin said lightly.
‘He said someone warned them. Who knew? Only you!’ Philip snarled.
He reached across the table to grasp Janin’s shirt, but missed as Janin leaned back, and then, while Philip was still acrossthe table, Janin gripped his outstretched fist and laid the point of his little knife at Philip’s throat. ‘Don’t try to hitme, Philip. I really don’t like it.’
‘Let go of me!’
Suddenly there was a loud wail. All of them had forgotten Charlie, but now he crouched in the corner of the room, his ballforgotten as he stared at Janin and Philip with eyes full of terror.
‘Shite! You bastards cool down,’ Ricard said, and went to the lad.
Janin nodded, and held on a moment longer, his eyes fixed on Philip’s, but then he pushed the man’s hand away.
Ricard took up Charlie, cuddling him close, pressing the lad’s head into his shoulder with a face that was torn with grief.‘Are you two mad? Are you all going lunatic? What is all this, eh? We’re musicians, not brawlers in a tavern. We’re mates,aren’t we? We’re the Queen’s Men, in Christ’s name! What are you two doing? Look how little Charlie boy reacts when you do that, will you? He’s had enoughgrief, hasn’t he?’
‘It’s partly because of him,’ Philip said.
‘What are you on about?’
‘The man with Jack. It was the man from his house in London,’ Philip said with a nod towards the boy. ‘Your friend, the man who suggested we should come here with the Queen. Hewas there, with Jack. Jack is his man.’