‘He should have kept closer to them,’ Simon said without sympathy. ‘It was his choice to ignore them and turn to Despenser in their place.’
Margaret nodded, but her thoughts were far from the King and his wife.
Simon cast an eye at her. ‘You are thinking of Edith, aren’t you?’
Their daughter Edith had married only the last year, and had given birth to her first child, but before the birth, her father-in-law became estranged from Simon. The Despenser had decided to make use of Edith and her new husband in an attempt to force Simon to his will, and as a result the newly-weds had been separated and forced to suffer greatly. Edith’s father-in-law swore after that that his son would have nothing to do with Simon and his family, and that if Edith wanted to maintain her marriage, she must renounce her father and mother, and agree never to see them again. It was a terrible act, and one that made Margaret and Simon desperately sad, for they had not been able to see their grandson. The only contact they had was through Baldwin’s wife, who managed to keep in touch with the girl.
‘She’ll be fine,’ Simon said.
‘Yes,’ Margaret said, but without conviction. There was no telling how their daughter might be. Not while they could not speak to her.
Sir Laurence left the pile of requisitions and other papers with his clerk David, and walked out to the battlements, as was his wont, checking that the men on the ramparts were awake and alert, seeing for himself what the mood of the city below was, and glancing about the castle’s inner ward as he walked. Only out here in the open air, did he feel a man again. He was not suited to dealing with clerks and papers.
It was one of the regrets of his life that he must now subject himself to this office incarceration each day. Staring out over the city, he felt the resentment of a prisoner. This castle might be a glorious fortress, and the city might be his favourite in the kingdom, but when a man was effectively tied to them, it took the savour from both. He gazed longingly out to the east, over the woods and fields. The trees of the ancient woodlands and coppices rose high, while the cattle in the pastures moved sluggishly in the cold morning air, and he felt envious of those men out there now, peasants with their billhooks ready to attack the trees in the coppices, preparing to go hedgelaying, or merely running or riding for the pleasure of it.
If he closed his eyes, he could imagine himself on horseback again, the wind in his face freezing his shaven cheeks, his hair flying behind him, the smell of sweating horse in his nostrils as he bent down to hurtle all the faster along the roads…
He opened his eyes as he heard footsteps, and saw his porter hurrying along the walkway towards him.
‘Yes?’ he said testily.
‘Woman to see you, Sir Laurence.’
CHAPTER ELEVEN
They had started off in good spirits, but by noon it seemed the day was to end in disaster for Simon and his wife.
Their beasts were well-rested, and Margaret had slept better than for many weeks past in that little inn. It was not too busy this morning, for most people were sensibly keeping close to home at this time of trouble for all. The alehouses in the villages, by contrast, would be making plenty of money as the locals gathered to swap stories about the progress of the Queen in pursuit of her husband, for men enjoyed gossip as much as women, but the amusement ended as the men left the ale behind and went home. None of them was certain what the future would hold.
This part of the country appeared to have little enough reason to fear battle, Margaret thought. The crops and apples in the orchards had been harvested, and the peasants were out in their fields preparing for winter, trimming hedges and collecting faggots for their fires, and dealing with the numberless little jobs which had been put off during the harvest. None had suffered from the ravages of violence in the same way as the people about London, or the folks of the Welsh Marches in the last four years. The Despenser had enraged other barons to the limit of endurance, and they had risen against him, rampaging over the Despenser territories, killing, looting, pillaging wherever they went, and finally marching on London itself, where they held the King hostage until he agreed to exile his favourite.
But King Edward had had no intention of honouring his promise. While Despenser agreed to take to his boat and leave the kingdom, in reality he based himself on the coast, while the King prepared to bring him back. The resulting war devastated swathes of peasant lands, and Despenser returned, only to bring ferocious revenge upon those who had dared to try to curb his ambition.
Here, thank God, there was little evidence of such violence. Margaret cuddled her son closer to her and began to relax, but in the middle hours of the morning, trouble arose once again.
They had ridden into a large village not far from a place called Basingstoches, when they were accosted by a man riding fast from the south.
‘Beware! Stop! There are men up there who’ve clubbed others for what they can steal! Don’t head that way, friends, as you value your lives.’
Margaret could see that her husband was on his guard immediately. Hugh was the same; he trotted on his little pony up to Simon, his large staff in his hand, to listen carefully, while motioning to Rob to join them. Rob appeared not to notice, and despite the situation, Meg had to stifle a giggle to see Hugh’s scowl as he prodded the boy sharply with his staff.
Unaware of their antics, Simon was asking, ‘Where have these men come from, fellow?’
‘They’ve just appeared in the last day or two. Bastard thieves, the lot of them. There’s a tale told that a poor widow backalong was found in her house when they passed by, and they made play with her. Sorry, mistress, but the truth can be shameful.’
‘I don’t know,’ Simon said. ‘We are on our way homewards, and that means Exeter.’
‘You’d be best served to take a wide circuit of Basingstoches, friend. I’d not see a family attacked if they can be saved.’
Simon nodded, his eyes staring back the way the fellow had come from. ‘What’s that?’ he asked.
The scene was pleasant, the sun breaking through the clouds and sending shafts of golden light stabbing at the ground to the south. A natural curve of the land gave them a view past two gently undulating hills, and through the pass between them. There were woods on top of the hills, but the lower-lying ground was all pasture and field. In among the trees there was a fire, seemingly, and the smoke rose in a thin stream. It appeared to climb a little above the trees, only to be whipped away by the little gusts of wind that licked at his face moments later.
‘Oh, God’s bones, it’s them!’ the man said with a gasp of horror. ‘They’ve come nearer than I realised. Master, you must ride from here.’
‘How many are they?’ Simon said.
‘Thirty, perhaps? Too many for you to protect your family against them.’
Simon shot a look at the rest of his party, and reached out to his wife. ‘Meg, give me Perkin. I can carry him more easily than you. Hugh, you stay with her, and Rob –
Margaret gave him Perkin, and then leaned forward impulsively to kiss him. She cast a swift glance towards the smoke, and then he saw her mouth fall open. Two men were approaching at the gallop, and then behind them he saw another – and then another. ‘Meg:
