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Authors: Michael Jecks
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and had left their homes to become outlaws. Some
had made their way to France or Hainault, where they knew they would not be persecuted for their opposition to the English
king, but others had remained, and Bill would not be surprised if some had banded together and could have committed this crime.
John was back again before the sun had passed much over the far hills. With him he brought victuals, and the three sat around
the fire to eat, chewing rhythmically. It was later in the morning that Bill heard the tramping of boots, and hurried to his
feet.
A slightly scruffy-looking knight appeared through the trees with a small entourage of men-at-arms and a clerk, who walked
with a screwed-up face, as though the whole of the landscape here stank.
‘Who is in charge, fellow?’ the knight asked, and then looked about him with a grimace. ‘Sweet Mother of God! How many dead
are there?’
Painted Chamber, Westminster
As soon as they entered the room, Baldwin could feel the atmosphere. Earlier in the year he had come here with Simon, and
the pair had served the king by uncovering a murderer. Then, when they entered the king’s presence, although there was the
awareness of the difference in their respective positions, Edward had treated them remarkably well. Now there was a very different
feel to the place, and Baldwin shot a warning look at Simon as he knelt, copying the bishop and Sir Richard, as soon as they
had passed through the doorway. None moved until the steward had nodded to them, then they all walked in, heads still bowed,
until they were nearer the king. There they knelt again, heads bent, until there was a grunt of exasperation from Edward.
‘Bishop, God speed.’
‘Your royal highness, I hope you are well?’
‘Me? Why should I not be?’ the king said petulantly. ‘My wife has been abroad, as has my son, and I am keen to see them again
to learn what is happening over there in France. But still! What are you doing here alone, my lord bishop? Is my wife with
you?’ He made an elaborate display of peering behind the bishop. ‘But wait! No! She is not here, is she? Or have I missed
her?’
Bishop Walter bowed his head again at the heavy irony. ‘Your highness, I am sorry to say that she is not with us, no. What
is more, I fear she refused to return to you and her family. I am deeply distraught, your highness, to have to tell you this.’
‘What are you saying? Do you mean to tell me that she has not received my letter?’ the king said in a dangerously cold voice.
‘I thought that I had given it to you for her so that it could not be mislaid.’
‘She received it, your highness. More, I told the French king that you desired her to return to you at the earliest opportunity,
but he replied that your queen is also his sister, and he would not banish her from his court. If she chose to leave, that
was one thing; but she would not.’
‘What …’ The king spoke softly, but the words seemed hard for him to enunciate, as though they were stuck in his throat.
‘What, then, of my son? The Earl of Chester, Edward. Where is he?’
‘Your royal highness, I am deeply afraid that he would not have been safe had I brought him with me.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘Only this, your highness. I was threatened with death were I to remain. A man waylaid me and would have killed me, I think.
And your queen sought to demand money from me, suggesting that I might not live if I did not give her your letters allowing
her to claim money from bankers in Paris.’
‘So my wife is alienated from me, and she has taken my son to hold against his will and mine?’ the king said with icy precision.
‘But you all saved yourselves?’
‘Your highness, it would serve you not at all if we were to die,’ the bishop said with some asperity. ‘I did the best I possibly
could, but when it became apparent that my life was in danger, I confess I madethe most urgent plans in order
had made their way to France or Hainault, where they knew they would not be persecuted for their opposition to the English
king, but others had remained, and Bill would not be surprised if some had banded together and could have committed this crime.
John was back again before the sun had passed much over the far hills. With him he brought victuals, and the three sat around
the fire to eat, chewing rhythmically. It was later in the morning that Bill heard the tramping of boots, and hurried to his
feet.
A slightly scruffy-looking knight appeared through the trees with a small entourage of men-at-arms and a clerk, who walked
with a screwed-up face, as though the whole of the landscape here stank.
‘Who is in charge, fellow?’ the knight asked, and then looked about him with a grimace. ‘Sweet Mother of God! How many dead
are there?’
Painted Chamber, Westminster
As soon as they entered the room, Baldwin could feel the atmosphere. Earlier in the year he had come here with Simon, and
the pair had served the king by uncovering a murderer. Then, when they entered the king’s presence, although there was the
awareness of the difference in their respective positions, Edward had treated them remarkably well. Now there was a very different
feel to the place, and Baldwin shot a warning look at Simon as he knelt, copying the bishop and Sir Richard, as soon as they
had passed through the doorway. None moved until the steward had nodded to them, then they all walked in, heads still bowed,
until they were nearer the king. There they knelt again, heads bent, until there was a grunt of exasperation from Edward.
‘Bishop, God speed.’
‘Your royal highness, I hope you are well?’
‘Me? Why should I not be?’ the king said petulantly. ‘My wife has been abroad, as has my son, and I am keen to see them again
to learn what is happening over there in France. But still! What are you doing here alone, my lord bishop? Is my wife with
you?’ He made an elaborate display of peering behind the bishop. ‘But wait! No! She is not here, is she? Or have I missed
her?’
Bishop Walter bowed his head again at the heavy irony. ‘Your highness, I am sorry to say that she is not with us, no. What
is more, I fear she refused to return to you and her family. I am deeply distraught, your highness, to have to tell you this.’
‘What are you saying? Do you mean to tell me that she has not received my letter?’ the king said in a dangerously cold voice.
‘I thought that I had given it to you for her so that it could not be mislaid.’
‘She received it, your highness. More, I told the French king that you desired her to return to you at the earliest opportunity,
but he replied that your queen is also his sister, and he would not banish her from his court. If she chose to leave, that
was one thing; but she would not.’
‘What …’ The king spoke softly, but the words seemed hard for him to enunciate, as though they were stuck in his throat.
‘What, then, of my son? The Earl of Chester, Edward. Where is he?’
‘Your royal highness, I am deeply afraid that he would not have been safe had I brought him with me.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘Only this, your highness. I was threatened with death were I to remain. A man waylaid me and would have killed me, I think.
And your queen sought to demand money from me, suggesting that I might not live if I did not give her your letters allowing
her to claim money from bankers in Paris.’
‘So my wife is alienated from me, and she has taken my son to hold against his will and mine?’ the king said with icy precision.
‘But you all saved yourselves?’
‘Your highness, it would serve you not at all if we were to die,’ the bishop said with some asperity. ‘I did the best I possibly
could, but when it became apparent that my life was in danger, I confess I madethe most urgent plans in order
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