There was another change, also. The two men seemed to have switched roles. Gilbert Foliot was suddenly the subordinate, looking to his friend for instructions, and I realized that their previous relationship had been a blind for the true state of affairs. I remembered, too, Lawyer Heathersett’s warning that the goldsmith was not ‘the only man you need to look at in this town’. And there had been young Martin Callowhill’s description of his father — a man of ambition and pride in his ancestry — that had not tallied with the man I thought I knew.
The meeting in Wales had not been accidental, either. I now felt sure of that. No doubt as soon as Sir Lionel had passed on Walter Gurney’s information to his friend, Gilbert Foliot had, in his turn, relayed it to Henry Callowhill. The two men had gone there together to test the soundness or otherwise of the knight’s theory. .
I put the leather bag into the pouch at my belt and backed away until I could feel the far parlour wall behind me. They were two to one and there was bound to be a fight. Not only did I have what they wanted, but I now knew them for Henry Tudor’s men, traitors to King Richard, whose agent and spy they thought I was. If it came to taking my word against theirs, they must feel certain that I should be believed.
Neither man, however, made an immediate move to wrest my pouch from me. Instead, Gilbert Foliot turned to his friend. ‘There’s no Breton ship at present in harbour, nor will be for a week or two. The winter weather’s closing in and sailings will be less.’
Henry Callowhill shrugged. ‘We must follow Bray to Cornwall. He’s making for Rame Head where he told me a ship will lie offshore, somewhere between there and Penlee Point, as soon as it arrives from Brittany. We must go now. Today. As soon as you return home, send a message to Sir Lionel informing him of our intentions and tell him to join us as soon as he can.’
‘Today?’ the goldsmith queried, horrified.
‘As things have turned out, we’ve no choice.’ His friend sounded impatient. ‘You must see that! If we’d found the jewels ourselves, it would have been a different matter. As it is. .’ He let the sentence hang.
‘But if, when we get to Cornwall, we find that Reynold has already sailed?’
Reynold Bray! Of course! I had in the past heard Timothy speak of this most loyal and capable of Henry Tudor’s agents.
The wine merchant shrugged again. ‘We must wait until we can find a ship willing to carry us to Less Britain.’ I was interested, in spite of myself, to note that he used the old, archaic name for Brittany.
‘And our families?’
‘My dear Gilbert!’ The impatience was fast turning to anger. ‘What do our families matter? What indeed do we matter in comparison with the Cause?’ He spoke the last word with all the reverence of one referring to a holy crusade.
‘But what about him?’ The goldsmith nodded towards me. ‘First of all we have to take the diamonds from him, and then. . And then. . Well, we can’t leave him alive, can we?’ He looked a little sick. ‘But if we kill him, everyone will know who did it. We were seen talking to Mistress Chapman at the High Cross. We must have been seen walking down the street. And it wouldn’t be Bristol if someone hadn’t observed us being let into the house. The hue and cry will be raised before we’re fairly clear of the city and the posse comitatus will be after us in the blink of an eye.’ A hysterical note sounded in his voice. ‘We’re trapped!’
‘Trapped?’ Henry Callowhill smiled. ‘I don’t think so!’ And, before I could make the slightest guess as to his intentions, he spun round and caught Adam such a stunning blow to the side of his head that the child dropped unconscious to the floor. Then he stooped and picked him up, slinging him across his left shoulder like a sack of flour.
I had completely forgotten my son — he had been so quiet, standing at one side of the room watching, I supposed, the unfolding of events and trying to work out what exactly was going on. He would not have been frightened by the two men; he knew them too well by sight.
I started forward, but Gilbert Foliot was too quick for me. He had drawn his dagger and was barring my path. The wine merchant, too, had his dagger in his hand, but was pointing it not at me, but at Adam’s back.
‘I shan’t hesitate to use it, Roger,’ he said quietly. And I believed him. He was a desperate man. He went on, ‘Give the bag containing the diamonds to Master Foliot, then move back again and I’ll tell you what’s going to happen.’
I did as I was told. I had no choice. My son’s life was at stake.
‘Go on,’ I said harshly.
Henry Callowhill had put away his dagger — although the goldsmith still had his drawn and was standing at the ready — and with his free right hand pulled the left-hand side of his cloak across the child’s inert form.
‘Master Foliot and I will now leave you, Roger,’ he said. ‘If you tell anyone in authority — your friend Sergeant Manifold, for instance — what has happened, you will never see your son again.’
‘What are you going to do with him?’ I asked, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe properly.
The wine merchant smiled. I was beginning to hate that smile.
‘I shall put him somewhere safe,’ he said. ‘Somewhere where he can’t easily be discovered.’ I made an inarticulate sound and the smile deepened. ‘Don’t try looking for him because you won’t find him. Now, if Master Foliot and I — and, I trust, Sir Lionel — reach Cornwall in safety and find a ship waiting for us, just before we embark, I’ll send someone back to Bristol with a message for you to tell you where your son is.’
‘But that could take weeks!’ I shouted, pushing myself away from the wall. But before I could make a grab for Adam, Gilbert Foliot had his dagger at my throat.
‘Stand still,’ he warned.
But I was barely aware of him. ‘You can’t do that!’ I pleaded with Henry Callowhill. ‘Alone, in the dark, without food and water for heaven knows how long, the boy could die. You must know he could!’
‘He’ll have air,’ the wine merchant promised. ‘And with good horses under us, Master Foliot and I should reach Cornwall — and it is the north of Cornwall, after all, not far to the west of Plymouth — in a couple of days. Three at most. He looks a strong lad. He should survive that.’
‘He’ll be terrified,’ I said. ‘And supposing, as Master Foliot suggested just now, the ship being sent for Master Bray has already arrived and sailed?’ I had been doing frantic calculations in my head, and worked out that it was almost a week since the man I now knew to be Reynold Bray had set out from Keynsham for Cornwall.
The wine merchant pulled down the corners of his mouth.‘In that case, Master Foliot and I will be forced to return to Plymouth to try to find a ship bound for Less Britain from there. So let us hope that our worst fears aren’t realized. But whenever we sail, provided that no one has come to arrest us, I shall keep my promise to try to send you word where your son is hidden.’
‘You can’t subject a child of five years old to this ordeal,’ I croaked. My mouth was dry, my throat constricted. ‘Just kill me instead. Let the child go and just kill me. I won’t put up any resistance.’
Once more Henry Callowhill gave that hateful smile.
‘Very noble, Roger,’ he said. ‘And a gesture which, as a father myself, I can appreciate. But Gilbert here has already explained why we couldn’t do that. No, I’m afraid this is the only way to ensure your silence and our chance of freedom. Our welcome at Henry Tudor’s court will be assured when we present him with the Capet diamonds.’ He laughed suddenly, a full-bodied chuckle of genuine amusement. ‘And to think that your daughter had them all along! She must have hidden them well for Sir Lionel’s men not to have found them. I see,’ he added, ‘that my revelation doesn’t come as a surprise to you. You knew who was responsible for the break-ins?’
‘I worked it out.’