The Coiner's Quarrel

by Simon Beaufort

  Geoffrey was amused. ‘Is that what you would do?’

  ‘Of course. To do anything else would be insupportable.’ He shivered when a particularly ferocious gust of wind shook the windows. ‘This storm is getting nastier. Folk are saying it is another omen.’

  ‘An omen of what?’

  Maurice shrugged. ‘It may presage disaster, or it may portend something good. Let us hope the latter. But I had better speak to Maude, before Rodbert appears. He seems to have taken up where Alwold left off. God’s speed, Geoffrey.’

  He sketched a benediction and was gone, weaving in and out of the crowd as he stalked his prey. Geoffrey looked for Sendi and his followers, and spotted them near the door. They looked unhappy, dismayed by the outcome of the hearing, and he saw they had genuinely anticipated that Henry would accept their claims without question and send troops to Bristol to arrest Barcwit.

  It was not long before someone else came to disturb Geoffrey’s solitude. Clarembald’s eyebrows were particularly orange that evening, because they caught the red glow from a nearby brazier.

  ‘I have come to ask whether I might travel with you,’ the medicus said, after they had exchanged the formal pleasantries of two men who knew of each other, but who had never met. ‘My practice is in Exeter, and I always travel there by way of Bristol.’

  ‘If you like,’ said Geoffrey. ‘As long as your rival, John de Villula, does not want to come, too.’

  ‘Actually, I suspect he will,’ admitted Clarembald. ‘He lives in Bath, which is near Bristol, and he would be a fool not to take advantage of your protection.’

  ‘Then no,’ said Geoffrey. ‘You will argue, and I shall have enough trouble with the Saxons.’

  ‘We will quarrel,’ acknowledged Clarembald. ‘But we do not fight with weapons. You may need the services of a physician, anyway. Sendi believes you will find against him in your investigation, so he may try to disable you and force Henry to appoint someone else. You have also made enemies of Tasso and Rodbert. The only one who likes you is Maude, but that will only be for as long as you do not displease her in the bedchamber.’

  Geoffrey was amused by his bluntness. ‘Then let us hope I do not.’

  ‘Henry ordered me here to answer Sendi’s accusations,’ Clarembald went on, annoyed. ‘But then he barely gave me the chance to speak. I cannot decide whether he thinks me guilty or innocent. Bristol is a convenient place to deposit money safely – and earn a little extra in the process. It is a mercantile town, so of course they know how to conduct good business. But I have never been offered an illegally high interest rate, by Barcwit or anyone else.’

  ‘Barcwit,’ mused Geoffrey. ‘Maude claims he is a good man repelled by wickedness, while Sendi maintains he is a terrifying despot who holds an entire town under his sway. Which is true?’

  ‘The people of Bristol are frightened of Barcwit, although he has never coerced me. I invest with him willingly, because he is scrupulous about his repayments.’

  ‘What does he look like?’

  ‘I am not sure.’ Clarembald sounded surprised at the answer himself. ‘I usually deal with Rodbert or Maude. I glimpsed him once, though, when I was visiting his mint after dark. He is a huge man who favours dark clothing. Even bold knights like Tasso hold him in awe. He is a presence.’

  ‘A presence?’

  ‘You know,’ said Clarembald impatiently. ‘One of those people you always notice when they are there. He has a personality that blazes. The King is the same.’

  ‘Charismatic?’ suggested Geoffrey.

  ‘Yes, charismatic. Even though I have never met Barcwit in person, he exudes confidence, which is why I choose him over Sendi or the moneyers in Exeter. However, while I have never been offered an illegal rate of interest, I cannot say the same for Bishop John.’

  ‘You think he is dishonest?’ Geoffrey was not surprised when Clarembald nodded.

  ‘Very. He was a great admirer of King William Rufus – it was Rufus who sold him Bath – and he has not done as well under Henry. I think he plans to undermine Henry financially, and usher the Duke of Normandy on to the throne instead.’

  ‘All alone?’ asked Geoffrey innocently, to encourage him to gossip. ‘Or with help?’

  ‘With help.’ Clarembald waved his eyebrows for emphasis. ‘Young Bloet is also not proceeding as quickly through the ranks as he would like, and he is another of these investors. I anticipate you will uncover a veritable vipers’ nest once you look more deeply into this unsavoury affair.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Geoffrey with a sigh. ‘I thought I might.’

  ‘Good,’ said Clarembald, rubbing his hands together, as if something had been decided. ‘I shall travel with you, and you shall have my professional services if the likes of Tasso, Rodbert or Sendi break through your defences. John will offer the same, but I strongly advise against accepting them. All he will do is pray and light candles.’

  He bustled away, and Geoffrey was about to sit again, when another shadow loomed. This time it was the man with the flowing hair and piercing eyes, whom Giffard had identified as William de Warelwast, Bishop-Elect of Exeter.

  ‘I am here to beg a favour,’ Warelwast said with a pleasant smile when he had introduced himself.

  ‘You want to come with us to Bristol?’ predicted Geoffrey.

  Warelwast laughed. ‘Sir Roger said you were a clever fellow. He and I have known each other for years, through his father. I am a great admirer of the Bishop of Durham.’

  ‘Are you? That cannot make you popular here.’

  ‘Popularity is like spring blossom. It comes and goes.’

  ‘Clarembald has asked to join us, and he says John de Villula will come, too. With Sendi’s horde and Barcwit’s disciples, we shall number about thirty people. Such a large group will not travel very fast, so if you need to be in your see with any urgency, I recommend you make your own way.’

  Warelwast shrugged. ‘It is not my see yet. The present incumbent still lives, and I cannot take office until he dies – which I hope will not be for many years yet. However, as a nephew of the Conqueror and a cousin of the King, I have plenty to occupy me until I am invested.’

  Far from impressing Geoffrey with his family connections, Warelwast made him wary. Such men, with royal blood in their veins but a long way from real power, were apt to be dangerously ambitious. Warelwast seemed amiable enough, but it was not difficult to feign cordiality and charm. Geoffrey listened politely as Warelwast chatted in a friendly way about life at Court and the new cathedral he planned to build in Exeter, but was relieved when he left. He watched the man glide across the hall, where he bumped into Maude. She turned one of her smouldering looks on him, and Geoffrey saw him begin to vie with Maurice for her attention.

  ‘You will need to protect her on your journey, Geoffrey,’ said a voice at his side. This time, it was Henry, with Giffard in tow. ‘Sendi’s rabble are argumentative ruffians, and she is too vital a beauty to lose to a stray dagger. I may visit Bristol one day; it would be a pity if she were not there to greet me.’

  ‘She will not be greeting anyone if her husband is guilty of debasing your currency, sire,’ said Geoffrey, predicting that Joan might not be the only woman to enjoy Henry’s clemency. The King had a soft spot for females he intended to seduce.

  ‘True,’ admitted Henry. He was silent for a while, then spoke again. ‘I meant what I said yesterday about you uncovering the truth. It may be uncomfortable, and you may think it is not what I want to hear, but I trust you to tell me anyway.’

  Geoffrey nodded, thinking that truth was a many faceted thing, and that Henry might as well ask for the moon. He turned to watch Maude again, and was astonished to see Maurice the victor in the competition with Warelwast. Warelwast was younger, more handsome and a good deal thinner than the bishop, but it was Maurice’s arm that Maude selected to escort her away. Geoffrey did not understand why women did not run for their lives when Maurice approached, but they seldom did; and even if they did not compl
y with his lustful requests, they at least listened to what he had to say. Geoffrey decided to study the prelate’s technique, so he could try it himself.

  Giffard snorted in disgust. ‘The man is insatiable! He has had three serving wenches since dinner, and claims his humours are still unbalanced. It is a pity poppy juice does not work for his condition.’

  ‘It probably would,’ said Geoffrey, ‘if you made it strong enough.’

  ‘No,’ said Henry sharply, when Giffard began to consider the suggestion. ‘I do not want him perpetually drowsy; I need him awake and working on my behalf. But enough of Maurice. What did you think of the hearing today? Were you more convinced by Sendi or by Maude?’

  ‘I do not know, sire,’ replied Geoffrey honestly. ‘I would like to say Maude, because I want Joan exonerated of any wrongdoing. But it would be a lie.’

  Henry nodded. ‘Maude is more convincing than Sendi, but that means nothing other than that she is a more experienced orator. However, if Sendi is right, then he has done me a great service by coming here and exposing Barcwit. If the man is as dangerous as everyone claims, then he has done so at considerable risk to himself.’

  ‘But it has taken him a long time to act,’ Giffard pointed out disparagingly. ‘Possibly years. Imagine how much money has been lost to the royal coffers in that time.’

  ‘I have,’ said Henry dryly. ‘But I shall have it back one way or another. If Barcwit is guilty, I shall have his mint and his property. If Barcwit is innocent, then I shall fine Sendi for wasting my time.’

  ‘Either would be lucrative,’ mused Giffard, doing the calculations in his head.

  ‘The truth,’ said Henry, fixing Geoffrey with his penetrating stare. ‘Any fool can look into this and declare Barcwit guilty or innocent, but I want the truth. I want to know why Barcwit is cheating me or why Sendi wrongfully accused him. The truth is more important than the solution in this case. But be careful. I sense you are about to swim through some very turbulent waters, and I would like to see you emerge from them unscathed.’

  He walked away, nodding lordly greetings to his subjects as he went. Giffard lingered for a moment. ‘The King is right,’ he said softly. ‘I do not know what to make of this business myself, but I wish you well, and I hope to find you alive when I come to Bristol.’

  Geoffrey was used to travelling fast. He, Roger and their men started moving the moment it was light enough to see, and only stopped when it became dark. Then they wrapped themselves in their cloaks and slept wherever they happened to be – sometimes enjoying the luxury of a tavern, but more often bivouacking under a tree. But the journey from Westminster to Bristol was different.

  The party was huge, and included not only Maude, Sendi and their respective retainers, but the two physicians, Warelwast and an army of servants. Clarembald and Warelwast had asked whether anyone objected to their company, but Bloet and Bishop John had simply appeared and announced they were coming, too. Their presumption caused ill feeling in an assembly that was already fraught with bitter rifts. The first trouble started the morning after the hearing, when the travellers began gathering in the pre-dawn gloom and Sendi discovered he was missing a horse.

  ‘You have seventeen,’ said Geoffrey, itching to be away. It was a long way to Bristol, and he did not want to spend the next three months getting there. ‘Surely, you cannot need more?’

  ‘You do not understand,’ said Adelise. ‘That horse carries our dies. We cannot leave until it is found.’ She glared in Maude’s direction, to make it clear she knew who might have stolen the animal.

  ‘Dyes?’ asked Roger, also irritated by the delay. ‘Surely you can buy some more along the way? A bit of colouring is no reason to dally here.’

  ‘Dies!’ shouted Edric, as if volume would help Roger understand. ‘The engraved punches we use for making coins. They are our most important pieces of equipment, and certainly the most expensive. Tasso must have stolen them. I saw him lurking around the stables last night.’

  Tasso bristled. ‘I am a knight,’ he declared through clenched teeth. ‘I do not steal. And you are lucky you are a peasant and not a warrior, or I would kill you for impudence.’

  Sendi drew his dagger, perfectly willing to pit his skills against Tasso’s. Geoffrey tensed to intervene, anticipating a bloodbath, and not wanting to have to report to Henry that there was no need to investigate the moneyers, because the main protagonists were all slaughtered outside his stables. He glanced at Roger, and saw his friend was ready to join any affray, although he doubted the big knight would do much to calm troubled waters – and might well double the casualties.

  ‘Tasso was checking our horses,’ said Maude quietly. ‘And I am sure you did not leave anything as valuable as dies in the stable overnight. They could not have been with this missing horse when Tasso was here yesterday.’

  Edric said nothing, but the expression on his face suggested her assumptions were correct. ‘Well, someone has them,’ he persisted. ‘And who else would bother, other than a rival moneyer?’

  ‘What does this horse look like?’ asked Geoffrey.

  ‘Brown,’ snapped Sendi, not very helpfully. ‘This could ruin me.’

  ‘Why?’ asked Roger, puzzled. ‘You are a wealthy man, so why not buy some more?’

  Sendi gazed at him in disbelief. ‘You do not wander into a market stall and pick these things up, you know! Their issue is carefully controlled by the Crown, and they can only be bought from one place: Otto the Goldsmith in London. No one else in the country has the right to make dies, and any coins manufactured with stamps not produced by Otto are designated forgeries.’

  ‘He is right,’ said Bishop John. ‘It is one of the ways the Crown keeps control over the currency – the dies wear out after producing a certain number of coins, forcing moneyers to buy new ones. Each time this happens, the King is paid a commission. He can also control the amount of coins circulating, because he knows how many dies are being used at any one time.’

  ‘How do you know all this?’ demanded Rodbert. ‘You are just a physician.’

  ‘I am also Bishop of Bath,’ replied John grandly. ‘I own my own mint, and I know a great deal about the business – or, at least, about the profits.’

  Geoffrey recalled Henry asking at the hearing why John had chosen to invest with Barcwit, rather than with his own moneyer. Was it significant that the lofty physician–bishop, who had just admitted to knowing a good deal about coinmaking, was on Sendi’s list of corrupt investors? His explanation had been that he liked to visit Bristol for shopping. Was it true? Did he really relish trailing around stalls and haggling with merchants for goods his servants could purchase on his behalf? Geoffrey hated such activities, and found it hard to believe anyone would enjoy them.

  ‘I will not leave until I have my dies,’ declared Sendi hotly. ‘I demand to search everyone’s bags.’

  ‘You can go to Hell,’ snarled Rodbert. ‘I will not permit my possessions to be pawed by you or your filthy rabble.’

  ‘Do you call me filthy?’ demanded Sendi, brandishing a knife. ‘You, who are corrupt scum, and who will hang when the King discovers you have been cheating him all these years?’

  ‘We have not cheated anyone,’ countered Tasso, drawing his sword. ‘The accusations that dragged us here are pure fabrication. Why do you think the King appointed an agent to look into the matter? Because he saw we are innocent, but you are not. He said as much.’

  ‘He did not,’ argued Adelise. ‘He said he wanted more evidence – which we shall provide. Even Geoffrey will be unable to twist the truth once he sees what your vile investors have done.’

  ‘We are not “vile investors”, madam,’ said Clarembald sharply. ‘We are businessmen who made financial arrangements in good faith. We have done nothing wrong, so do not sully our good names.’

  ‘My good name,’ corrected John argumentatively. ‘You do not have one.’

  ‘Now, just a moment!’ shouted Clarembald, rising to the bait like a hungry fi
sh. John cut across his angry words, and then they were both yelling at the same time.

  ‘What “truth”?’ sneered Rodbert, ignoring the two physicians as he addressed Adelise. ‘You have nothing but unfounded speculation. If you had real evidence, you would have brought it with you and shown it to Henry already.’

  ‘Is that the missing horse?’ asked Geoffrey, pointing to where a brown nag was happily devouring the special feed that had been put aside for Henry’s best mounts. No one took any notice.

  ‘I will kill you where you stand!’ Sendi howled, advancing on Tasso. Tasso was delighted, and Geoffrey saw he intended to hack his less-experienced opponent into pieces – there was no earthly way a merchant like Sendi could best a knight, and Saxon bloodshed was inevitable. Meanwhile, Rodbert beckoned Lifwine towards him with an insulting gesture, and the cambium responded by urging his friends to meet the challenge on his behalf. Several obliged. Adelise ordered Sendi to show Tasso what Saxon men were made of, while Maude muttered encouragement in Rodbert’s ear.

  ‘You cannot remove a splinter without saying a dozen masses,’ Clarembald yelled at John.

  ‘I pray, because God gives me inspiration,’ retorted John piously. ‘And because my patients prefer Him to be involved in their cures rather than powdered worms. At least I do not poison my clients.’

  ‘How dare you!’ snapped Warelwast. Geoffrey recalled that Warelwast was Bishop-Elect of Exeter, and Clarembald had his home in the same city. ‘Clarembald is the best physician in the country. Why else do you think I recommended him to my cousin the King?’

  The sound of raised voices was deafening. Geoffrey’s dog, excited by the clamour and the threat of violence, began to bark, while the horses pranced and shifted in alarm, unsettled by the racket.

  ‘God’s blood!’ muttered Roger, looking around in disbelief. His sword was drawn, but there were so many quarrels that he did not know which one to join. ‘Are you sure Henry ordered us to travel with these people? It will not be pleasant.’