The Hawks of Delamere (Domesday Series Book 7)

by Edward Marston

  ‘Here it is, my lord,’ he said solemnly.

  ‘What does it say?’

  ‘Let me translate it for you.’

  ‘No,’ said Hugh sharply. ‘I do not trust you. Gervase must translate it for me. Slowly Word for word.’

  ‘Yes, my lord,’ agreed Gervase.

  ‘But I helped to draft it,’ boasted Idwal.

  ‘Then you have already exceeded your orders.’

  ‘Gruffydd ap Cynan needed much persuasion, my lord.’

  ‘Your work is done. Stand aside.’ His nose wrinkled in disgust. ‘What is that dreadful stink?’

  Gervase stepped in to ease Idwal gently away and to lessen the impact of his malodorous cloak on Hugh the Gross. Standing beside the earl, he took him methodically through the document, using a finger to indicate each word as he translated it. Idwal was peeved that Hugh was not more impressed with the phrasing of the missive.

  ‘That last sentence was my suggestion, my lord.’

  ‘I do not need to know that,’ said Hugh.

  ‘Will you authorise me to deliver it?’

  ‘You?’

  ‘It will give the letter credence.’

  ‘I have messengers enough at my disposal.’

  ‘But they will suspect a forgery, if I am not there to assure them of the document’s authenticity. I gave my word to Gruffydd ap Cynan that I would bear it in person.’

  ‘You had no right to do so.’

  ‘Nevertheless, my lord,’ said Gervase, cutting in to ease the growing friction, ‘I do believe that Archdeacon Idwal should be allowed to deliver this message. Only he can convince Gruffydd’s people that they must heed the orders of their prince. Dispatch him at once, my lord. I will go with him, if you wish, with as many of your men as you choose to send with us. But I beg of you to take speedy action here. Time is of the essence.’

  Earl Hugh picked up the document and looked at it with misgivings. Prepared for a battle, he felt cheated by the prospect of peace, especially as it might be instigated by a prisoner in his dungeons and not by any negotiation on his own part. He wrestled with his ambivalence for some minutes. Idwal could contain himself no longer.

  ‘Delay could cost lives, my lord,’ he claimed.

  ‘Be silent!’

  ‘That message must be sent at once.’

  ‘I make the decisions here,’ growled Hugh, ‘and I do not need your interference. A close friend of mine was laid in his grave today, a fine man cut down by some cowardly Welsh archer. Should I not avenge the death of Raoul Lambert instead of trying to make peace with his killers?’

  ‘No, my lord.’

  ‘One person shot that arrow,’ said Gervase reasonably, ‘and not the entire population of Gwynedd.’

  Hugh turned on him. ‘Who slew my messenger?’ he demanded. ‘Who gathered a raiding party outside Rhuddlan Castle? Who is threatening to attack this city? We are up against far more than one man here, Gervase.’

  ‘Deliver that message from Gruffydd ap Cynan,’ said Idwal, ‘and you may be up against nobody at all. You fought hard to impose peace on North Wales, my lord. Will you throw it away so recklessly?’

  ‘I told you to be quiet!’ snarled Hugh.

  ‘But I have been your mediator.’

  ‘Enough!’

  The force of his yell quelled even the ebullient Idwal. Hugh rose from the table and stalked off down the hall with the letter still in his hand. Gervase tried to catch the archdeacon’s eye and signal him into discretion. Having gone to such trouble to obtain the co-operation of Gruffydd ap Cynan, it would be galling to see it spurned now. Idwal bristled with disgust but held his tongue.

  Earl Hugh struggled with his conscience. Though his instinct was for military action, he was keenly aware of the possible consequences and knew that he was bound to suffer losses. Even without their prince to lead them, the Welsh army would be formidable. The city of Chester would not thank him if some of its menfolk fell in an unnecessary conflict.

  On the other hand, Raoul Lambert’s murder inflamed him yet and he still believed that the assassin’s arrow was really intended for his own heart. Such audacity, he felt, should not go unpunished. He glanced through the window and saw Gruffydd ap Cynan being escorted round the perimeter of the bailey by four guards and the vision swayed him. Why had he taken the man hostage if not to preserve peace? What power the prisoner still had over his people should be used to enforce a truce. Precipitate action would serve nobody.

  Turning to face the others, he held out the letter. ‘So be it,’ he said. ‘See it delivered.’

  ‘Praise be to God!’ exclaimed Idwal.

  The archdeacon moved forward but Gervase held him back with a hand on his arm, indicating that he himself would receive the document from the earl. Before he could do so, however, there was a banging on the door and it swung open to reveal a breathless soldier in full armour. Covered with dust and perspiration, the man had clearly been riding hard.

  Hugh immediately beckoned him over and withdrew to a corner to hear his tidings. His rage soon ignited again. When he swung round once more, his face was purple with fury. Instead of handing the letter to Gervase, he tore it into a dozen pieces and threw them in the air.

  ‘My lord!’ cried Idwal in despair. ‘You have just destroyed our one hope of peace.’

  ‘The Welsh army has already done that,’ retorted Hugh. ‘They have blocked the road to Rhuddlan and are gathering for attack. We will be ready for them.’ He glanced out of the window again. ‘Suspend all privileges for Gruffydd ap Cynan. Throw him back into the dungeon where he belongs!’

  Chapter Seventeen

  The news hit Golde with the force of a blow. Flinging herself into his arms, she clung tightly to her husband and looked up beseechingly into his face.

  ‘Do not get involved, Ralph,’ she implored.

  ‘I may have to, my love.’

  ‘This is not your battle.’

  ‘Every able-bodied soldier will be needed.’

  ‘But that phase of your life is over now,’ she cried. ‘You have said so many times. You came here as a commissioner on royal business, not as a soldier.’

  ‘Nothing is more important than protecting the border, Golde,’ he said. ‘That, too, is royal business. You know it as well as anyone. You lived in Hereford all those years and saw the damage that the Welsh can do when they launch an attack. How can I stand aside when we are threatened by a marauding army?’

  ‘You are too old to fight.’

  ‘Thank you!’

  ‘It is true, Ralph.’

  ‘I still have strength enough to lift a sword,’ he said with a grin, ‘and energy enough for other exertions, as you can bear witness. Do not consign me to the mortuary just yet. I have a few more years in me before I expire from old age.’

  ‘Will nothing stop you?’

  ‘No, my love.’

  ‘Not even my entreaty?’

  ‘If I am called by Earl Hugh, I must go.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘It is a question of duty.’

  ‘You owe none to the Earl of Chester.’

  ‘He is our host. I have a natural obligation.’

  ‘To lay down your life because he has become embroiled in a war against the Welsh?’ She clung even tighter. ‘I’ll not let you go, Ralph. I’ll keep you back by force.’

  ‘And shame me in front of the others? No, Golde.’

  ‘I don’t want to lose you.’

  ‘Nor will you,’ he said, holding her by the shoulders and gazing into her anxious face. ‘I was born and bred to fight, my love. I have come through a dozen battles with no more than a scratch. Why should this one be any different?’

  ‘Your luck is bound to run out one day.’

  ‘Luck!’ He gave a mirthless laugh. ‘There is no luck in surviving a battle, Golde. It takes strength, skill and guts. I know that you fear for your husband but there is no need to insult him as well.’

  ‘I am sorry.’

  ‘Pride
is at stake here, my love.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘And my oath of loyalty to King William. What would he think of me if I skulked here in the castle while Earl Hugh was leading his army in the field? He would never forgive me. More to the point, I would never forgive myself.’

  Golde sighed and pulled away. ‘She was right.’

  ‘Who was?’

  ‘The Lady Ermintrude.’

  ‘What did she say?’

  ‘That you could not resist a call to arms.’

  ‘It depends on who does the calling.’

  ‘I do, Ralph,’ she said with passion. ‘I call you to stay with your wife. You have nothing to prove to me. I saw your bravery in York, in Canterbury and in Oxford. I know that you are a fine soldier. But the time has come to retire.’

  ‘I do not recognise the word.’

  ‘The Lady Ermintrude warned me of that as well.’

  ‘Then you should have listened to her.’

  ‘I thought that I knew you better, Ralph.’

  ‘Well, I am sorry to disappoint you, Golde,’ he said with a shrug. ‘Try to stop seeing this as a betrayal of you. If I do get involved in the fighting – and it is by no means certain at this stage – but if I do, I will be helping to protect you and everyone else in this city. What would happen if every husband laid down his arms and stayed at home with a frightened wife? It is not possible, my love. It is not just.’ He spread his arms. ‘It is not manly.’

  She nodded in agreement and heaved a sigh of regret.

  They were in their chamber at the castle. Golde had been talking with Ermintrude when she heard the agitation down in the courtyard and saw the soldiers being hastily assembled to receive their orders. Rushing back to her own apartment, she found Ralph torn between sadness and excitement, distressed by the apparent collapse of the peace initiative set up by Archdeacon Idwal yet almost exhilarated by the opportunity to take his part in the coming conflict.

  For her benefit, he tried to play down the dangers he might face and to hide the inner thrill that he was experiencing.

  ‘It may be over in a matter of days, my love.’

  ‘An hour of fighting would be too long.’

  ‘I may not see any action at all.’

  ‘I will pray that you do not, Ralph.’

  ‘Marry a soldier and there is always a faint risk.’

  ‘So I have learned,’ she said, pursing her lips and breathing heavily through her nose. ‘But what brought about this change? I thought they were trying to find a peaceful solution to the conflict.’

  ‘They were, my love.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘Idwal and Gervase went down to the dungeons to bargain with Gruffydd ap Cynan,’ he explained. ‘They actually got him to send word to his people to refrain from any further action. Gervase tells me that he and Idwal were on the point of leaving to deliver the message.’

  ‘What prevented them?’

  ‘News of other developments.’

  ‘What are they?’

  ‘Does it matter?’ he said, not wishing to be drawn into a full discussion. ‘The simple fact is that the Welsh do not seem to want peace. Hence, the call to arms. That is all I know at this stage. Earl Hugh is a skilled commander who has beaten Welsh armies time and again. He will do so again.’

  ‘And sustain losses.’

  ‘Probably.’

  Golde tried to master her anxiety. She forced a smile. ‘What must you think of me?’ she said. ‘Behaving like a young bride whose husband is about to go off to war. I should have more confidence in you. And more control over myself.’

  ‘It is good to show your concern.’

  ‘The Lady Ermintrude prefers to mask it.’

  ‘That is why I am married to you and not to her.’

  ‘Far from it, Golde,’ he said, taking her in his arms again. ‘You are bound to worry. So am I, if I am honest. But we must bow to the inevitable. When duty calls, I must go.’

  ‘Yes, Ralph,’ she whispered.

  ‘I’ve fought the Welsh before and lived to tell the tale.’

  ‘I’ll remember that.’

  ‘Good.’

  He placed a kiss on her forehead then pushed her gently aside while he darted across to the door, flinging it open and stepping through it. There was nobody there. Golde was alarmed. She came out to join him.

  ‘What is the matter?’ she said.

  ‘I thought he would be here again.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘The eavesdropper.’

  ‘Are you sure that he exists?’

  ‘I’m certain of it, my love,’ he affirmed. ‘He was out here listening to us the other night. And he was back again today.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘When I was in here with Hubert and Simon.’

  ‘Why should anyone want to eavesdrop on you?’

  Ralph took her back into the chamber and closed the door.

  ‘That is what I’ll ask him when I catch the villain.’

  Security which was already tight was now markedly increased. Movement to and from Chester was even further restricted. City gates were barred and guards doubled on the walls. Those who had brought their goods to sell in the market found that they were unable to return to their homes. Boats which sailed up the River Dee were turned back before they reached the port. A city which had been preparing for the possibility of conflict now knew that it was unavoidable. The clatter of destriers’ hooves rang through the streets. Anvils sang in the armourers’ workshops. Tactics were discussed.

  The last vessel to be allowed into port before the new restrictions were imposed was a small boat which was loaded with pelts. Two guards watched the crew unload their cargo.

  ‘Where are you from?’ demanded one of the guards.

  ‘Ireland,’ said the captain of the vessel.

  ‘Have you traded here before?’

  ‘No, but we heard that we would get a good price.’

  ‘How many in your crew?’

  ‘What you see. Three men. Four of us in all.’

  ‘How long did you plan to stay?’

  ‘A day or so,’ said the other. ‘No more.’

  ‘Think again.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Orders,’ said the guard with a grim chuckle. ‘Nobody is to sail in or out of Chester until further notice. You may be here for a week. A month even.’

  ‘But we must get back to Ireland.’

  ‘Not until we are ready to let you go.’

  ‘And when will that be?’

  ‘You will be told.’

  ‘We have families!’ protested the captain.

  ‘They will have to wait.’

  ‘You can’t keep us here against our will.’

  ‘Nobody leaves.’

  ‘But we are expected back.’

  ‘Nobody.’

  Having made his point, the guard sauntered off with his colleague to question the captain of a vessel which was unloading its catch of fish. The Irishman continued to voice his complaints and his crew did the same. All four of them were standing on deck, bemoaning their fate, when a fifth man crept out from the tarpaulin under which he had been hiding and slipped quietly ashore. Having seen him safely off the vessel, captain and crew stopped their protestations at once and resumed their work.

  The fifth man, meanwhile, lost himself in a maze of streets, zigzagging through the city with a confidence born of close acquaintance with it. When he came to a house on the eastern side, he made sure that he was not being followed then rapped on the door. It opened immediately and he darted inside.

  Eiluned and Dafydd embraced the newcomer in turn.

  ‘We knew that you would come,’ she said.

  ‘Nothing would have stopped me.’

  ‘What if they had turned your boat away?’ asked Dafydd.

  ‘I would have swum here,’ said the newcomer. ‘When I make a promise, I honour it. Whatever the obstacles.’

  Gervase Bret was seething with frus
tration. Having been involved in the negotiations with Gruffydd ap Cynan, he was proud to feel that he might, in some small way, have helped to bring peace to the region and it was dispiriting to watch his hopes so cruelly swept aside. The consequences were quite unimaginable. Open warfare might keep him and the other commissioners trapped in the county for some time and his immediate thought was of Alys, pining for him in Winchester and fretting when he did not return.

  Gervase also worried about Ralph Delchard. Unable to fulfil his commitments at the shire hall, his friend would not sit idly on his hands while a battle was going on nearby. Ralph would be certain to join in and Golde would be equally certain to suffer the agonies common to all soldiers’ wives. Gervase would share those agonies with her. Ralph was very dear to him and he could wish him elsewhere than in the middle of a quarrel in which he had no legitimate part.

  Frustrated by the turn of events, he was not blind to the suffering of others. Archdeacon Idwal, he realised, would be even more devastated, having laboured so hard to bring his countryman round to the notion of peace. Time spent with him in the dungeon had increased Gervase’s admiration for Idwal but it was tinged with suspicion. Notwithstanding the letter which the archdeacon had wrested from the Prince of Gwynedd, his behaviour in the dungeon had left Gervase with the vague feeling that he had been subtly duped.

  The only way to allay that feeling was to confront Idwal himself and Gervase resolved to do just that. While the rest of the city was in a state of turbulence, he used his status as a royal commissioner to gain the right to leave the city by a postern gate and he strode off towards the cathedral. The first person he met there was Frodo, coming out of the main door. The archdeacon was very surprised to see him.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ he said.

  ‘Searching for Archdeacon Idwal.’

  ‘You would be far safer in the city,’ advised the other. ‘Bishop Robert has withdrawn to his palace and taken most of the holy brothers with him.’

  ‘What about you?’

  ‘My place is here, Gervase. At the cathedral.’

  ‘It will offer you scant protection from attack.’

  ‘I will worry about that when the time comes,’ said Frodo with a brave smile. ‘But I have a bounden duty to be here and you do not. Even Canon Hubert and Brother Simon have fled. You should do likewise.’