Free The Pardoner's Crime by Keith Souter Page B

masters.’
    Hubert clicked his tongue. ‘I am fortunate and have a good one, but I understand what you mean. The likes of us can hardly choose, we have to do what we are told.’
    Adam Crigg nodded sagely. ‘Aye, our masters keep changing depending on their fortunes. I have been a soldier since I was eleven years of age, just as my old father was afore me. Don’t misunderstand me, I have been loyal all my life to whoever has held Sandal Castle. That means that I was loyal to John de Warenne, the Earl of Surrey and fought wherever he dragged us. Then Thomas Plantagenet, the Earl of Lancaster besieged the castle and took it over, and I served him, God rest his soul. And now I am loyal to the King.’
    Hubert grinned. ‘True, Adam. We are all King’s men now. And I expect all the other guards have a similar outlook on things.’
    The old soldier’s face contorted again and he looked sideways and spat through the nearest embrasure of the battlement wall. ‘That makes me laugh. There are only a few proper soldiers here. That is me and about thirty of the original castle guard.’ He leaned over conspiratorially and continued in a whisper. ‘The rest of them – all sixty of them – are Sir Thomas Deyville’s men. And I reckon they have sold their hearts and souls to the ‘Deyville!’ He grinned at his own wit.
    â€˜The trouble is, not one of them knows one end of a pikestaff from the other, so if we ever had a proper attack, they would be as much use as a bunch of milkmaids.’
    He looked along the wall at another guard who was watching over another segment of the wall, between the next two turrets. ‘We had best keep walking, Hubert, lest that young jackanapes reports me and I get my knuckles rapped.’
    They walked on and Hubert shrugged his shoulders. ‘Still, I suppose they will just have to learn, like we did, eh, Adam?’
    Adam snorted derisively. ‘They have learned a lot of things already, if you ask me, and not a lot of it is good. Like I said, they are the Deputy Steward’s men and they behave just like him. Not a spark of human kindness among them. They’ll all beat a serf or a bondsman as soon as look at him. I don’t like it. These are my people. I am born and bred around here and I—’
    He was stopped by a sudden shouted stream of profanity from behind them.
    â€˜What is going on here? What is that man doing up here?’
    Hubert and Adam had spun round to see a furious mail-clad sergeant of the guard advancing upon them. ‘Who let this man up here?’
    Hubert had taken an instant dislike to the fellow and he stood his ground. ‘I climbed the stairs myself! And you didn’t stop me!’ Then, before the burly sergeant could say anything further, he went on, his voice cutting and aggressive, ‘And nor should – or could you have! I am Hubert of Loxley, assistant to Sir Richard Lee, the Circuit Judge of the King’s Northern Realm who is eating with your master right now.’ His voice had risen in volume with each word. After glaring at the sergeant he dropped his volume again. ‘Or would you like to explain your attitude to him yourself?’
    Hubert saw the other’s hesitation. He recognized the pattern. A bully boy who was unable to stand up to bullying himself. He sneered contemptuously. ‘I suggest you don’t interfere with King’s officers in the future.’
    The sergeant glowered at Hubert and then at Adam. Then without a word he walked past them towards the other guard.
    â€˜The bastard will have harsh words with me later,’ Adam whispered, unable to keep the humour from his voice. ‘But it was bloody worth it!’
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    Despite himself, Richard enjoyed the meal. He found that after satiating his ravenous appetite with his trencher, heaped with roast boar, venison and the most deliciousvegetable concoctions, and slaked his thirst with a