Free Wolf Wood (Part One): The Gathering Storm by Mike Dixon Page A

it
takes, boyo.'
    'Say I want to
do it more than once?'
    'Then you'll
have to pay for it. They're not running a charity here. You've not
come to the Little Sisters of Mercy for a bowl of soup and a free
haircut.'
    Gareth left
three pence in his pouch and handed the rest to David. He was
wondering if he should have kept more when a group of men entered.
They were dressed in the uniforms of the Earl of Salisbury. Harry
gave them a hostile stare.
    'What those
sods doing here?'
    'Trying to
take the place over,' someone said.
    'What's the
matter ... don't they like the tarts at the Crown?'
    'They're
trying to force us out. They know we're on Duke Humphrey's side.
The Earl of Salisbury is a Beaufort.'
    'You don't
have to bloody tell me that, boyo.' Harry stood up. 'Hey. You lads.
Why don't you find yourselves a proper lord? Duke Humphrey needs
more men.'
    One of the
newcomers rose to confront him.
    'We're with
the Earl of Salisbury.'
    'He's not a
proper lord.' Harry strode forwards. 'Salisbury is a Beaufort. His
uncle is Henry Beaufort and he's cuddling up to the Frogs. He wants
to hand the whole fucking country over to them ... like they
fucking own it.'
    'Bishop
Beaufort is working for a just peace,' the other countered.
    'Fucking
traitor!' Harry hurled a beer mug at him.
    Gareth rose to
join in but didn't get far.
    'Where are you
going, Big Boy?'
    He found the
dark-eyed girl beside him. She took his arm and rushed him to the
stairs. They got there as a door was barred behind them. On the
other side, the landlord was shouting at the warring factions,
telling them that the earl's men were coming. The girl stopped at
the first floor and looked out of the window. In the street below,
burly men with truncheons were descending on the inn. They were led
by a sergeant in full armour and looked more than a match for the
rioters.
    'We won't be
disturbed,' the girl said. 'They won't come up here.'
    She licked
Gareth's ear and pulled him into a room.
    'I think I
fancy you.'
     
     

Chapter
13
    Accusations
    John Baret
mounted the stairs to Richard Rochell's chambers. His friend of
many years had a suite of rooms above a draper's shop. It was where
he kept his records and worked as an accountant and financial
adviser. Most of his clients had modest businesses. A few belonged
to the moneyed classes. John peered through the door.
    'Good Morrow,
Richard.'
    'Good Morrow,
John.' Richard looked up from his papers. 'What brings you here on
this fine summer's morning.'
    'I need
witnesses.'
    'For signing a
document?'
    'No.' John sat
down. 'I have been summoned, in a most insolent manner, to appear
before a fellow who describes himself as our lord abbot. I am
required to give an explanation of myself, whatever that
means.'
    'When did this
happen?'
    'About an hour
ago. Bailiff Gallor arrived with a beadle and the sacrist. They
demanded to conduct a search of my premises.'
    'On what
possible grounds?'
    'The
harbouring of felons.'
    Richard put
down his pen and replaced the lid on his inkwell.
    'Did they find
any?'
    'Of course
not. They searched high and low and all they found was a stray dog
and a dead pigeon. The sacrist then summoned me to appear before
Bradford.'
    'Are you
going?'
    'I can hardly
refuse. Before I left Salisbury I promised to do everything in my
power to smooth relations between the parish and the abbey. It
won't look good if I refuse to speak to the abbot-elect.'
    'Is there
anything I can do?'
    'I want you to
come with me. Bradford will have his advisers. I don't want to turn
up without some support of my own.'
    'Who else have
you asked?'
    'Harald
Gascoigne and John Sprotert. Harald studied law at Oxford and John
is well regarded in Salisbury.'
    ***
    William
Bradford glared at the four men who stood before him. He sat in the
abbot's chair, in his richly decorated chamber, flanked by two
monks. Canon Simon stood on his right and a young man with a
writing block knelt on his left. William's heavy jowls sagged and
his gaze passed back and