The Tolls of Death: (Knights Templar 17)

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The Tolls of Death: (Knights Templar 17) Page 11

by Michael Jecks


  Chapter Eight

  It was almost dark when Letitia heard her husband returning down the lane. He was declaiming loudly, as he sometimes would when he was particularly incensed by some petty or foolish action.

  ‘The fellow should be set in the stocks for all to throw their waste at. Fancy thinking he could get away with it!’ he was saying as Letitia opened the door for him. She gave him a perfunctory kiss on his cheek and took his jack from him, hanging it from a hook on the back of the door. Serlo she left to his own devices.

  ‘Alex, come to your chair, dear.’

  ‘In a moment, wife. My brother has much to tell me, apparently,’ Alex said, in that bluff, hearty way of his that Letitia liked so much. It was at once open and friendly, but simultaneously powerful – so masculine. ‘Serlo, sit and take some ale with me. You fetch it, while I kiss my wife. You know where it is.’

  Serlo grunted, and Letitia thought, he ought to know – he’s guzzled enough of our best ales over the years. Just as he has eaten our best food. Always appearing whenever we’re sitting down to eat or drink, the foul, scrophulous chancre. Then he sits and dribbles, glopping his drink like a ploughman in an alehouse. It’s enough to make you want to throw up.

  Alex knew her feelings only too clearly. He went to her and patted her hand, but in a way that showed he wasn’t best pleased with her.

  ‘Letty, he’s my brother.’

  That was just what she needed to hear! ‘I think, husband dear, that I knew that already,’ she said with poisonous sweetness. ‘But I was hoping to be able to talk to you myself tonight. I didn’t realise that we were once more to be joint advisers to your brother.’

  His smile was a little warmer than his pat. ‘Come on, now. He won’t be here for long. You know what he’s like. He gets a bee in his shirt and has to shake it loose. I’m the only man he can trust. It’s always been that way. Remember, he’s never known a mother. That sort of thing marks a man.’

  ‘Marks him enough to steal from you?’ she asked pointedly.

  ‘If he’s been making a little on the side – well, you can’t blame him,’ Alex said, but less forcefully.

  ‘He’s robbing you after all you’ve done for him!’ Letty hissed. ‘You heard what Richer said at the church just as I did.’

  ‘Richer’s always been an enemy to us.’

  ‘Maybe, but was he lying?’ Alex was so unlike his brother, Letitia thought gratefully. He had seen his father’s decline into poverty and ruin, and it was that which had spurred his own ambition. Alex had started with a cottage and a few chickens, but in four years he had developed his assets and now he had this house, a large share of the mill, three sheepfolds, and numerous other investments. He was the most important man for ten miles in any direction outside of Bodmin.

  Serlo followed in his father’s footsteps. What he had, he risked in gambling; what he didn’t have, he tried to win by threats and cajoling. Sometimes he succeeded, because many people here had a nervous conviction that what Serlo wanted, Alex would get for him.

  Letitia watched as her brother-in-law sat down on the bench in front of her husband’s chair. Alex sat easily, relaxed. This hall was a recent acquisition, but he wanted a home that suited his new status. The size of the place went to prove how important he was; the dimensions dwarfed the people inside. It was even larger than the hall in the castle. The buttery and pantry always contained food and drink for friends.

  ‘I’m sorry, Alex. I …’

  Alex waved a hand. ‘Come on, Serl. What’s the matter this time? Is it that arse Richer again?’ he asked, leaning forward keenly. ‘If it is, I’ll deal with him.’

  ‘No. It’s just that bitch Athelina. I wish she’d killed herself out on the road and saved us all this trouble!’

  Alex allowed a short frown to cross his face. Letitia knew he hated to hear women slighted.

  ‘You ought to show her a little more compassion, brother. She’s dead, isn’t she?’

  ‘Oh, stuff that. She was asking for it. Useless baggage. Never did a decent day’s work after her husband died, did she? No. As for those squalling brats … I’m not surprised she topped them first. I’d have done it for her if I’d had a chance.’

  Alex sucked on his teeth. ‘What is the problem?’

  ‘You know how behind she was with her rent. I told her to get out if she couldn’t pay. Said she must find the money somehow or I’d break one of the boys’ legs.’

  ‘And? Is that all you said?’

  ‘She didn’t pay.’ Serlo shrugged.

  Letitia watched him with a feeling of intense, sickening rage. She daren’t open her mouth in case she screamed abuse at him for using those words, those cruel, horrible, unrepeatable words. In that moment, she learned what true hatred was.

  ‘I’d have done it if she had the cash and was holding out on me, but since she hadn’t, what was the point?’ Serlo continued. ‘There wasn’t any way she could get that money together. She had nothing. I’d asked for it so we could empty the place and put someone in for more money, but now! Well, how in God’s name can we find new tenants when it’s crawling with guards and the castle’s men? And even then, it’ll take a load of money to get the stench of death from it. Who’s going to want to live in a place that smells of filth?’

  ‘Blood isn’t filth,’ Alex remonstrated quietly. Letitia thought he should have bellowed. When she looked at his still, inexpressive features, she saw that in his heart he had.

  ‘The blood of two bastards and their bitch of a mother is. She must have rutted like a stoat before her husband died. Probably wore him out – that’s why he had that fall.’

  Letitia felt as though the air itself was starting to throttle her as Serlo continued his vile tirade. Her face was reddened in shame and self-disgust, she could feel it. It was almost as though her head could explode from the pressure of her humiliation.

  Serlo must have known that she and Alex had been trying for a child all their married life, while he himself, who had been married only half as long, had already managed to produce two boys.

  All those nights when she had sweatily and hopefully rutted with Alex, all those happy days when she thought her monthly time was going to be missed, and the despair when she had suddenly felt the menstrual ache grip her abdomen.

  They had agreed now that they couldn’t continue like that. There was no point in worrying about children, not when every other aspect of their lives was so good. Their marriage was strong, much more so than those of many others, and Alex was growing ever more successful in his work, so there was no need to torture themselves any more. Better by far to enjoy the lives they had and hope that some day God would reward their patience. The barrenness could be caused by any number of problems and Alex, bless him, was as aware as Letitia herself that the culprit could be either of them. There were as many dogs who couldn’t father a litter, or bulls a calf, as there were barren bitches and cows.

  Their lives had taken on a relaxed, even tenor since their agreement. They made love whenever they wanted now, rather than when Letitia thought it was most conducive. There was less straining, more loving. Alex was a kind lover, and Letitia had never doubted that he adored her. He often told her so.

  And now here was his moronic brother throwing their failure in their faces like sand.

  Serlo had no idea he was doing it. He couldn’t ever get beyond his own petty desires and fears. Those of other people were irrelevant to him. Letitia felt her anger rise, peak, and then begin to subside. It was as Alex had always said: his brother was spoiled, and Alex was largely at fault for that. When Serlo had made a mistake, he rarely had to own up. It was Alex who shouldered all the responsibility.

  She looked at her brother-in-law. Now he was going on about the folk up at the castle. He’d had enough of Alex’s strong ale to make him more calm, more expansive, and he sat back on his bench like a toad after eating a dragonfly, a broad grin on his face, his belly protruding. Letitia thought him never so repellent as when h
e sprawled back like this.

  ‘That little filly Nicholas caught is showing now. Have you seen her?’

  Alex sighed. ‘Yes, but what of it? I heard she might be with child a long while ago.’

  ‘Ah, but who’s the father? That’s what I’d like to know.’

  Alex shot a look at Letitia, but she was calm enough now. She shrugged slightly, then gave him a half-smile. Before long she’d go out and make sure that her chickens were all locked up, and then she’d leave them to it. The pair of them could talk for hours when the mood took them.

  Alex returned her smile, but she could see that he was annoyed. ‘This sounds like more tavern gossip.’

  ‘Why don’t you speak your mind, Serlo?’ Letitia said, perhaps more sharply than she truly intended. ‘What do you mean to imply? Don’t just repeat rumours!’ Alex gave her a quick look, but Letty didn’t care. She was staring angrily at Serlo. ‘Well?’

  ‘There’ve always been rumours about her, haven’t there? ’Twas said Gervase had his eye on her. I reckon he’s been forking hay in the wrong barn!’

  ‘Oh, don’t be so stupid!’ Letitia said scornfully, but then Alex held up his hand.

  ‘Why do you think that, Serlo?’

  ‘I saw them,’ the miller said smugly. ‘I saw them together, when they didn’t realise there was anyone about. Athelina too – she was there. It was four or five months ago, just before that last cold spell when the rain started a couple of days after. You remember? Well, I saw them down by the river, walking along the bank. They’d been over to the fields, I think, but then they stopped and sat by the river for a while. He put his arm about her, and—’

  ‘This is sheer malicious nonsense!’ Letitia burst out. ‘I don’t believe a word of it.’

  ‘If this is true,’ Alex said, ‘why didn’t you mention it before?’

  Serlo gave a half-shrug. ‘What was the point? It wouldn’t do any good, would it?’

  ‘So why mention it now?’ Alex demanded astutely. ‘There’s a reason, isn’t there?’

  ‘You heard what Richer accused me of doing,’ Serlo muttered with embarrassment. ‘Taking gifts instead of tolls. I’m sorry about that.’

  ‘You admit it?’ Alex asked.

  ‘I did ask for cash from a couple of people, but nothing more than that.’

  Alex had stood, and now he towered over Serlo with an expression of such hurt in his eyes that Letty found it hard to watch him.

  ‘So you lied to me, and then stole from me, Serl? All you had to do was ask, and I’d have helped you. Instead you cheated me.’

  ‘It wasn’t really like that.’

  ‘One third of the tolls were for me, but you didn’t take the tolls. That means you stole from me,’ Alex said quietly, and passed a hand over his face, sitting again as though exhausted. ‘Anyway, what is this about? Why mention Lady Anne now?’

  ‘I thought I could ask her to ensure that Gervase doesn’t press the matter. She wouldn’t want her affair in the open, would she? And I could even charge a higher toll, maybe? If the steward was squared, we could ask what we wanted!’

  ‘You’ve kept it quiet all this time so you could fleece the travellers?’ Letitia said scathingly. ‘How good.’

  ‘Which makes me wonder why this has occurred to you now,’ Alex said.

  Serlo’s face lengthened. ‘That bastard Richer’s determined to see me suffer, and the men I stopped today, they’ll try to make sure he’s supported in the castle’s court. One of them’s a Keeper, and the other one’s a Bailiff. I don’t stand much hope against them, unless Gervase squashes it.’

  ‘You could pay Gervase to leave the matter off the court’s rolls. Perhaps it’ll get forgotten. The Keeper and his friend can’t be here for long,’ Alex said ruminatively. His tone was quiet, but Letitia could see his inner tension by the way that his right hand picked at the arm of his chair, while his left cupped his chin. It was a posture she recognised only too clearly.

  ‘Aye, maybe I’ll try that,’ Serlo said, brightening.

  ‘But in the meantime,’ Alex said, fixing his brother with a glittering eye, ‘you’ll stop charging people these “gifts”. And you’ll stop making sour comments about Athelina. At least in front of us.’

  And the note of suppressed anger in his voice was enough to calm Letitia again. She detested her brother-in-law, but Alex’s words had shown her why she was so happily married to her husband. They were so much in agreement.

  She did love him.

  Richer put his hands to his face again and pressed hard. His brain felt as though it was about to force its way through his skull, the pressure was so great. Rarely had he suffered from so much pain. He could scarcely comprehend that he had lost his love after dreaming of her for so many years.

  The worst loss he had experienced was when his entire family was killed. Yet even that had not hurt him as much as this did. Somehow, losing Athelina was worse because God had given him the renewal of hope, then removed the object of his adoration. It was a terrible, cruel thing to have happened.

  She was the same woman he had left fifteen years ago, with the same smile, the same kindly eyes, the same strong, taut figure, if a little bent from work, and if her face bore witness to the trials she had suffered, did that not apply to them all? No, she was his lovely Athelina, the same woman he had left when he learned of his family’s death. And now she was taken from him too. If only he had insisted on helping – rescued her from poverty and that damned miller’s clutches. She and her boys would be alive now.

  It was this damned vill. Cardinham was an unwholesome, ungodly place. There was something evil here, that affected him, no one else. If there was any justice, the man suffering like this would be Serlo, or Alexander. Why should he, Richer, be forced to feel this? He’d done nothing to anyone and yet he was given the burden of grief.

  Poor Athelina. She’d done nothing either, nor had her boys. Yet they were dead, rotting, ruined.

  ‘Aw, Christ Jesus, why?’ he howled to the sky.

  ‘Richer, come,’ Warin said gently. ‘We should go and fetch some food. You need to eat.’

  ‘Do you really think I’m hungry?’ Richer said, but without anger. He didn’t expect anyone else to comprehend his loss. Least of all someone like Warin, who had so much. ‘Food would make me puke.’

  ‘You should try to eat, nonetheless, and if you won’t, you should attend on me, because I am ravenous,’ Warin told him. ‘The best cure for such an anguish is wine, and I should be happy to fetch you a pint of the best.’

  Reluctantly Richer allowed himself to be drawn towards the hall. All the way, in front of him, he was sure he could see the shade of Athelina drawing him onwards.

  It was a relief to Nicholas that Gervase was nowhere to be seen when he ushered his guests into the hall of the castle. Sad, but there it was.

  In his early years here, before he had found his wife, Gervase was his close comrade. Ever since Nicholas had come here, Gervase had been his sole friend and confidant, but since Anne had married him, things had changed and the steward seemed to have withdrawn into himself. Nicholas was forced to consider that he might be jealous of the relationship between himself and Anne. Possibly because Anne was so obviously in love with him.

  Whatever the reason, Gervase had become an embarrassment and irritation. He seemed to exude the hurt of a man who had once been a close associate, but who was now spurned … it certainly made Nicholas feel uneasy when he sensed Gervase’s reproachful eyes upon him. Whenever the steward entered the room these days, Nicholas felt uncomfortable. If only the man would leave and find himself a new position with a different lord! All he had done was to marry and be happy, for God’s sake!

  He loved Anne. It was so strong, the link between them both, that he felt almost sick with longing when he was away from her. The only time, thank God, he’d had to leave her was when the King had been involved in his spat with the Lords Marcher. Then Nick had left his comfortable existence here and travelled up
to Wales, helping protect the border with a small force against the might of the men who would seek to remove the King from his throne.

  Well, nothing much wrong with that, in Nicholas’s view. He’d be perfectly happy to see the King gone, and those appalling thieves the Despensers, so long as the replacement was stronger and safer. Trouble was, the next man was usually worse than the first.

  The main thing was, as soon as he returned, his wife proved her adoration for him, and now, as a result, he was confident of a child, a boy who would take his name and reputation onwards.

  Christ, but he was proud of his darling wife. Thank God Gervase wasn’t here with his long face and cow-like eyes, spoiling everything.

  He almost made Nicholas feel guilty. And what angered him was he had no idea why he should feel that way.

  Chapter Nine

  When she was introduced to the two strangers, Lady Anne was struck first by Sir Baldwin’s quick, searching observation of her, and then by his smile. It lit up his whole face.

  It was in the hall, early in the evening, while servants set out the table on the dais for them. This was not to be a great banquet, for the household had already taken their food at their accustomed time, a little before noon, but in the presence of such guests Anne had seen to it that there was a good selection of dishes prepared. It was only a shame that they had been so long in coming.

  The hall itself was an excellent place to entertain. With the high ceiling of smoke-blackened rafters and thick thatch, it was Anne’s favourite room in the castle. Large enough to squeeze all the vill’s men inside for winter’s celebrations, yet cosy enough with a good fire for a more intimate gathering.

  She had set stools and benches about the fire, which was glowing and crackling nicely, throwing light against the walls. A pair of cressets at the wall flickered warmly, and candles of good quality lit the table on the dais. There was a pair of heavy chairs for Nicholas and herself, and opposite them a bench for their guests. They could eat at the table, then relax before the fire. More than adequate, she thought.

 

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