“Exactly, sir.”
“Keep the prisoner in the loft. It is safer. I start for London as soon as Roger of Maitland has broken his fast.”
Gregory bowed.
“Shall I take command at once, Sir Simon?”
“At once. Remember that I will have no carousing among the men.”
As soon as Gregory had departed, Simon broke the seal of his lord’s letter, and started to decipher the wild scrawl.
“To Sir Simon of Beauvallet.
“What in Hell ails thee, lad, that thou must poke and pry into plots and other such treasonable matters? Let well alone, and for God’s sake do not implicate thyself to thine own undoing! Thy letter has started my gout again. If thou must ride to London because thou hast waylaid a traitor on the road, thou mightest at least write me the full sum of it! The few lines I do receive from thy hand would enrage a saint, nor could thy rascally squire tell of aught beyond thy fight in the wood over a wench or some such fandangle. And I tell thee, Simon, that I had thought more of thee than that thou’dst embroil thyself in a quarrel over some silly maid. Natheless I say naught for I do suppose that thou wilt ever go thine own headstrong road, plague be upon thee for thine obstinacy!
“Were it not for this accursed gout which, as thou dost know, hath me fast by the leg, and is an hundred times worse from thine unreasonable behaviour, I would be up and after thee to learn the whole tale from thine own tongue, and see for myself what maggot has entered into thy head. And a pretty welcome thou wilt have at Westminster, thou silly boy, carrying a cock and bull story of a trumped up plot! Were it not that I know what a headstrong, impudent determination is thine, I should say thou wouldst never gain access to the King. But I do suppose that thou wilt, and by the front door, as thou didst come to me when thou wert but a babe. I do conjure thee not to break the heads of his guards, for that would surely land thee in gaol, which I do trust will happen if it might tame thy hot blood. And furthermore thou must know that I am considerably incensed with thee and would have come with Gregory had I not had this accursed gout, if only to break my stick across thy shoulders. And if thou art slain by footpads on the road, or clapped into prison for an importunate fool, it will be but thy just deserts, and I shall not grieve nor move a finger to aid thee.
“I send thee twenty guineas by Roger, against thy needs, and if thou stand in need of a friend, or a lodging, repair to my cousin, Charles of Granmere, who hath a goodly establishment in the Strand, which is in London, and show him this letter. He will maybe keep thee from running thy silly pate into a halter.
“God be with thee, my dear lad, and bring thee safe home again. If thou dost stand in need of more money, ask it of my cousin in my name. And bear a courteous tongue in thy mouth, and spare the King that fiery glance of thine, else he will surely account thee mad and not wrong neither. I would I might go with thee, dear lad, but I know that thou art wise enough for ten.
“I send thee my love and blessing, lion-cub.
Simon smiled a little as he finished this remarkable epistle, and turning, found that Roger was by his side with a purse in his hand.
“Sir, my lord sent this. I forgot to give it thee with the letter.”
Simon took the purse.
“Hast thou breakfasted, Roger?”
“Ay, sir. I am ready, and your mare hath the devil himself in her.” He spoke feelingly, and grinned a little as Simon smiled.
“Bring her to the door, lad.” He went into the tavern to speak again to the landlord, and left five of my lord’s golden sovereigns on account. Thus it was that the landlord’s spirits rose considerably, and he was able to bow his guest out in his best manner.
Side by side Simon and his squire rode southwest towards Royston, at a brisk, steady pace. There they dined and rested, and again set off down the old Roman road to London. They lay that night at a village near Hertford, and were up betimes on the morrow to complete the journey. The horses were tired, so that they did not reach Bishopsgate until after dusk, when Simon at once set about finding a lodging for the night.
He had heard that the city abounded with ruffians and footpads, but none sought to rob him, nor did he meet with any rudeness when he paused to inquire the way. He asked for a tavern as near to Westminster as possible, and an interested mercer directed him to the Lamb and Saracen’s Head, or, if he found it full, to the Rose, nearby. Simon thanked him gravely, and with Roger riding sedately behind him went at a respectable pace to his hostelry. They had no difficulty in securing a room, and the supper laid before them was plentiful enough to satisfy even their hungry appetites. Roger, in a twitter of excitement, implored Simon to let him walk out after supper to see the town, but this
