Free 30 - King's Gold by Michael Jecks Page B

by working harder, although he was already up before the dawn to feed his animals, weeding and toiling at his garden, and generally keeping out from under his wife’s feet.
    In her opinion, she should have married a man with better prospects. One of her friends, so Luke had heard, had wed a man from Warwick who went on to become one of the richest merchants in that great city. Whereas Ham remained a farmer. The idea that she should be stuck here in this vill, while her friend led the life of a wealthy burgess, had soured her. She was peevish, no matter how often Luke tried to show her she had plenty to be grateful for.
    ‘Why would he be taking food so far?’ Luke wondered. ‘Surely there are suppliers nearer the castle?’
    Agatha shrugged. ‘The purveyor said there was a guest who had a liking for lampreys and good perry, so I suppose it’s for him.’
    ‘So your husband will be taking his cart to Kenilworth?’ Father Luke said, and suddenly he had an idea so brilliant it took his breath away.
    ‘Yes. The useless prickle will have a week’s holiday, while Jen and me have to work double. Not that it’ll make much difference – he’s so idle. We usually have to feed the beasts and all, while he lays on the mattress snoring. He’d best bring back some coin for his effort, that’s all I can say,’ Agatha grumbled as she swept.
    Father Luke paid her no heed. He was busy thinking. The money was Despenser’s, and the person who should receive it was his heir; however, the Despenser family was from the Welsh Marches, which was a terrible long way away. But at Kenilworth, as everyone knew, was the old King, Sir Edward of Caernarfon.
    If he were to take the money there, Luke would have fulfilled his responsibility by passing the money on to the correct person, and no one could complain. The priest was delighted at the thought of disposing of the money at long last. It was such a burden on his soul. And it would be up to Sir Edward, what he did with it.

 

CHAPTER SEVEN
    Willersey
    It was dry, and that was good, Stephen Dunheved thought to himself as he waited at the inn. It was a relief to see so much clear blue sky. Not that you could depend on it. In his experience, the weather in these parts could change too quickly for comfort.
    Seeing the woman and her child approaching, he nodded courteously enough. That Agatha was a vicious witch, he reckoned. Fair, blue-eyed, but with the tongue of a snake. Stephen himself would not have married her for all the gold in the Tower – but then, when she was younger and less twisted by fate, perhaps she had been more comely. Trouble was, like everyone else in the kingdom, she had suffered: wars, disease and famine had all taken their toll.
    It was enough to make a man weep, to think of the devastation which had been visited upon the realm in the last decade. The King had done all he might for his impoverished little kingdom, but there was never enough treasure for so many people. And with that oafish stupidity so common to the peasant, the people of the country blamed him – as though it was his fault that the crops couldn’t grow!
    The barons were more culpable than their King. Their avarice and jealousy of each other meant that they were forever battling for personal advantage. Men stole their neighbours’ cattle and flocks, they bickered, and rode out with their retainers to fight over the smallest dispute. Such matters were better suited to lawyers. At least in court, these disputes rarely led to bloodshed.
    He watched the woman and her daughter pass by. She did look better when viewed in a more kindly spirit, he told himself, as he enquired, ‘Mistress, is your man ready yet?’
    ‘What do you think?’ Agatha said rudely. ‘Do you see him with me?’
    Stephen’s opinion of her returned to simple contempt. ‘Where do you think he may be?’
    ‘At home.’
    Jen called out, ‘Seeing to the pigs.’
    ‘Thank you, maid.’
    It was already an hour past daybreak, and