and whatever Sir Robert may require of you, be careful.”
IT WAS CLOSE TO NOON that morning when Sir Henry St. Clair was finally able to return to his quarters, duty free for the time being, and he was surprised and pleased to find his son in his day room waiting for him, perched on the wooden bench that ran along the wall where Tomas, Sir Henry’s loyal assistant, sat permanently on guard against those who would waste the time of the Master-at-Arms. It had been several weeks since father and son had last spoken to each other, but Sir Henry wasted no time in leading Andre into his private chamber and closing the door firmly behind him.
“What’s wrong, Father? You look concerned.”
“I am. Why are you here? I am happy to see you, of course, but I know you must be here for some specific reason, some reason grave enough to justify your being granted leave to come a-visiting at this stage of your training.”
Andre’s eyebrows shot up. “How would you know about that? The details of our training are supposed to be secret.”
“Aye, like so many other things. Sit down.” As Andre moved to obey, taking one of the two chairs by the single large work table in the room, Sir Henry continued, “I have many friends, my son, as befits an aging man, and some of them are Knights of the Temple. As it happened, I shared a pot of ale with one after dinner a few days ago and we talked of many things, one of which was the training of this latest batch of Temple novices. He knew, of course, that you are one of those and he was merely attempting to console me for not being able to see you.” He eyed his son closely. “So come on, spit it out. Why are you here?”
“Jews, Father.” Andre spoke the word bluntly, deliberately, watching to see what effect it might have on his father, but whatever reaction he might have anticipated, he received nothing. Sir Henry merely blinked, then sat down across the table.
“What about them?”
“That is why I am here.”
“You make no sense, son.”
“No, Father, I fear I do, to my own ears at least. Do you recall the last time that we spoke of Jews and of the King’s regard for them?” He did not wait for his father’s response. “I have come here directly from Sir Robert de Sable, and at his urging. He sent for me this morning and had me released from my duties for the day, purely so that he could pass along to you, through me, his grave concern for your safety.”
When Andre paused, Sir Henry spoke out. “Well, while I am duly grateful for Sir Robert’s concern for my safety and well-being, I believe that what I do and how I behave has nothing at all to do with him and should be beneath his attention. Be so good as to pass that information along to him, with my gratitude, of course.”
“No, Father, with respect, I will do no such thing. You are being obtuse. Sir Robert has no interest in chiding you for misbehavior. He fears for your welfare, because he sincerely believes it to be in the interests of the armies and the venture upon which we are engaged. He could have sent a warning to you by other means, but he chose to communicate through me for a variety of reasons, the very least of which is that he and I are friends. But the issues that concern him in this are far greater than any personal friendship.”
Sir Henry frowned slightly. “Issues such as what?”
“Policy, ambitions, politics, and schemes. William Marshall, Marshal of England, and Humphrey, Baron of Sheffield.”
Sir Henry leaned an elbow on the table’s edge, tapping his pursed lips with two fingers. “Explain.”
“Do I need to, Father? It took no great understanding when it was explained to me this morning. Richard is King of England, but he is also Duke of Aquitaine and of Normandy and Count of Anjou, Poitou, Brittany, and a host of other territories, none of which are English and all of which have offered up their men to this mission to free Outremer. You are, by title, the King’s Master-at-Arms, but in reality you are Master-at-Arms to your liege lord Richard, Duke of Aquitaine, and as such you represent in your very person the identities and the hopes of every soldier in the armies of Richard and Philip who is not English. If you fall from favor and are dismissed, then William Marshall will assume your place and this entire army will fall under English control. That must not be permitted to happen.”
Sir Henry nodded slowly, agreeing but conceding nothing. “I can understand how that might be of concern, but what of Humphrey of Sheffield?”
“I am surprised that you would even ask. I know the fellow, Father. He is a gross, slovenly pig, without honor and unworthy of his knighthood, let alone a barony. It has come to Sir Robert’s attention, from a source he claims is unquestionably truthful and well informed, that you have crossed paths with this swine … and have, in fact, come nigh to crossing blades with him.”
Sir Henry shook his head abruptly. “Not so. I do not like the man, but I have had no active quarrel with him.”
“Can you be sure of that, Father? Would he agree? The information that Sir Robert received was that you had come to Humphrey’s attention, unpleasantly, over the matter of a certain Jew called Simeon, here in Messina. Simeon was a well-known figure in this city, apparently, a merchant but not a money lender, but he disappeared from sight, with his entire family, at an inopportune moment and has not been seen since.”
“An inopportune moment for whom?”
“For Sheffield. Who else would care? Humphrey is a rabid, dedicated Jew hater. It is one of the things, and probably the single most significant thing, that enables him to maintain the friendship, if such it is, that he shares with Richard. It is Humphrey’s responsibility, it seems— although it is something not openly acknowledged—to provide Jews for Richard’s dinner entertainment spectacles. According to Sir Robert’s informant, this Simeon had been earmarked for one such spectacle, after an altercation with one of Humphrey’s associates over a debt. But he vanished, as I said, along with his family. Your name came up in connection with the disappearance, something about a warning in advance of a nocturnal visit from Baron Sheffield’s men-at-arms. Humphrey believed the report and took it to the King. Fortunately for all of us, the King was … preoccupied and did not have time to listen to the report. In the meantime, Sir Robert, having heard of the matter from his own spies, took it upon himself to intervene, providing an unsolicited explanation for your conduct that was a direct contradiction of the tale Baron Humphrey had received. The Baron, who is deeply in Sir Robert’s debt and had no reason to suspect the Master of the Fleet would even know you, believed what he was told, and so nothing more will come of it. But Sir Robert wishes you to know what happened, and while he would not presume to tell you how to behave, he begs that you will at least be more circumspect in future.”
Sir Henry sat silent for long moments, digesting what Andre had said, and then he inhaled deeply and nodded, lowering his chin to his chest and pinching his lips between two finger ends. Finally the Master-at-Arms looked up. “So be it. I acknowledge it. I acted rashly, although it did not seem so at the time. In future I will be more … careful. But was it truly only fear for my political position that made your friend act as he did?”
“Can you doubt it, Father? Think about what is entailed.”
“I have, and he is correct. And seen from that viewpoint, my responsibilities are larger and more complex than I had believed. I shall be more careful from now on.”
“No, Father. If it pleases you, I would like you to stay away from any involvement with Jews in future. Everything surrounding them is fraught with danger amounting to insanity.”
“Aye, but only because our King chooses to make it so.”
“Our King and his bishops. The Church condones it.”
“My son, the Church
“I don’t know, Father. I did not think to ask. I was too worried about the ramifications of what he was saying. But looking back on it now, on the urgency Sir Robert betrayed, I have the distinct impression that it had all happened very recently.”
“Hmm. Within the past few days. It had to be then.” He checked himself, cocking his head at his son. “Have you heard about the sodomy confessions? No, I can see you haven’t. There’s probably much good to be gained from living the cloistered life.” He thought for a moment, then went on. “Less than three weeks ago Richard
