Sitting once more in the sun outside Simon’s house at Lydford, watching the villeins working the fields behind the village, Baldwin was relaxed and drowsy. It was a more or less satisfactory end to the enquiry, he felt. Sir William had been held by the court, an event which caused some initial disquiet to the burgesses of the village who would never have expected to keep a knight in the chilly and damp cell under the ground. But they had quickly become used to the idea, and now some relished the depths to which the knight had sunk – metaphorically and physically. Fighting between Beauscyr men and the miners had all but stopped. Now the only recorded fighting was the normal fisticuffs outside the inns and an occasional dispute on the moors about who had bounded a particular parcel of land for mining.
Hearing a shrill scream and the thunder of small feet in the screens behind him, Baldwin smiled and groaned, slowly rising to his feet. In a few moments Simon was with him, his daughter clinging to one arm. ‘Fetch your poor father some wine, Edith,’ he said, carefully depositing her on the grass, and giggling, the eight year old ran back into the house. His eyes followed her slight form until she disappeared, then he slumped into his seat with a contented sigh, casting a baleful eye at his friend. ‘I trust there is a little wine left?’
Baldwin grinned and up-ended his pot to show that it was empty. ‘I don’t know, but I hope so,’ he said, his eyes slitted against the brightness. ‘How is our friend Sir William this fine morning?’
‘Oh, much the same as usual. Insists on being freed, insists on his innocence, insists the food isn’t good enough for a dog, insists I’ll be in there instead of him soon enough when the King gets to hear of this indignity… You know the sort of thing.’
‘How can he say he’s innocent? He confessed in front of us, for God’s sake!’
‘Yes, but he doesn’t appear to remember that. Now he says that he was nowhere near the area, and he’s almost rabid in his denial of throttling Bruther, let alone stabbing the other two.’
Baldwin nodded, but his eyes strayed to the view again. Simon’s next words dragged his attention back just as Edith returned, closely followed by the slim, fair figure of Margaret, Simon’s wife. A wet nurse deposited Edith’s sleeping brother nearby, and the bailiff’s voice was quieter as he watched his son, feeling again that sense of mystified wonder that he could have helped create the tiny figure. ‘John Beauscyr and Sir Ralph are going soon. Ah, thank you, Edith. Yes, it tastes wonderful.’
Eyes snapping wide open, the knight waited eagerly to hear more while Simon ruffled his daughter’s hair, an assault upon her dignity which she loudly deprecated, and spoke to his wife. After a few minutes, Baldwin could not bear to wait any longer, and burst out, ‘Your pardon, Margaret, but your husband is surely the most frustrating man in Christendom! What do you mean, John and Sir Ralph are going away together? What has happened to them to make them friends again?’
Throwing him an amused glance, Simon smiled easily. ‘Sorry, Baldwin. I forgot you weren’t there at the castle yesterday.’ He was referring to a meeting he had arranged between the miners, represented by Thomas Smyth, and John Beauscyr. They had asked the bailiff to sit in and witness their agreements so that there should be no argument in the future. Baldwin had been out with Edgar, riding to the north at the time, and Simon had not been able to talk to him since. ‘The two of them came in cheerfully enough, and I think Thomas has realised he has a new son in Robert who may not always bow to his will as he would like, but who is nonetheless a fine friend, and honest – the one good result of much reading, as his brother wryly admits. Anyway, they agreed what they needed to, as to where the tinners would go, where the Beauscyr Manor would prefer them not to, and how much the miners will pay the Manor for using the demesne lands. After that they were pleased to announce that Alicia will be married to Robert, and they invited us to the ceremony. That means you too, Baldwin. At the end of the meeting, Sir Ralph and John came in. It would seem that Sir Ralph was horrified to hear how John spoke about honour and loyalty on the day you accused his father, and had no idea that he had been robbing people all around. It seems he’s determined to give the lad a better idea about knighthood, and he’s taken him under his wing once more to make sure that he learns what it involves, especially regarding the chivalric virtues. The boy has agreed – rather, I think, to Sir Ralph’s surprise! Seeing his father humbled has been a profound shock to young John, and I think he has been forced to look again at his own actions.’
Margaret leaned forward, wielding the heavy pewter jug to fill Baldwin’s pot. As she bent, Simon took one slim wrist and held it for a moment, and she smiled at him, feeling the warmth of her love for her man. Glancing at Baldwin, she said, ‘Surely that’s not surprising? After all, the lad is only young still, and all his life, from what you have said, has been spent in power. First here, where he grew up with his father having authority over wide lands, then when he went to the north, where he was constantly fighting. Is it so odd he took it for granted that he could take whatever he wanted from anyone, whenever he wanted?’
‘No,’ said Simon, ‘but will it really change him?’
‘Give him the chance, Simon,’ Baldwin laughed and sipped wine as he leaned back in his seat. ‘I think I said this to you some days ago. He’s still young and has much to learn: how to command respect and loyalty, how to earn renown and honour, and, not least, how to understand himself. Think about that robbery of poor old Wat Meavy that was not the vicious action of an outlaw or shavaldore, that was the confused and bitter attack of a lad who does not yet know what he wants, who thought that it would prove to his father that he was a man like him, that he was strong and resolute. Maybe he felt it would endear him to Sir William. Give him a chance and you may be surprised how high he can rise.’
‘He’ll have the opportunity where he’s going. Apparently they are setting sail for Italy.’
Baldwin nodded sleepily. The sun was warm on his face and there was a soft breeze from the deep gorge nearby which lulled and soothed. It was hard to keep his mind on the knight and his squire. ‘They will have opportunities there to win the glory for which John yearns.’
‘Sir Ralph said – damn, what was it? Ah yes – he quoted from a book, and said he was going to teach John how to be a real knight.’
‘What book?’ asked the knight.
‘Something by a man called Lull, I think.’
‘Ah! Ramon Lull. I have seen his book on chivalry. It is not bad, though not as good as others – but it is the type which Sir Ralph would like, I suppose. Lull claims that the most faithful, strong and courageous men are chosen to be knights. He suggests the principle that after the Fall from Grace, when Adam and Eve were thrown from Eden, chivalry was created to defend and restrain the people. Not the worst book for John to learn from, I suppose. So long as he takes on board the ideals of service to the people and not just the elements concerning power.’
‘Baldwin,’ Margaret smiled, ‘you are rambling.’
‘That, my dear,’ he replied without opening his eyes, ‘is because I am a rambling soul and at present almost asleep. Now why don’t you tell your husband to relax and sit back quietly to enjoy this weather? From all I have seen, it is rare enough that you have a chance to feel the warmth of the sun in this benighted Manor. Why not just enjoy it?’
Simon grinned, and turned to his wife, but it was not long before they gave their son to the nurse once more and left, walking to the fields with Edith. After all, it was unreasonable to expect her to be quiet when the rasping breath of the sleeping knight threatened to waken the dead in St Petroc’s churchyard almost half a mile away.