Brewer's Tale, The (70 page)

Read Brewer's Tale, The Online

Authors: Karen Brooks

‘Excuse me,' he said. ‘What with guests arriving hourly, the king imminent and business making demands, I am a poor host.'

We reassured him this was not the case, and he advised that our barrels were being taken to the abbey where, once they were stored, we'd be able to inspect them.

Master Banbury escorted us back downstairs, where we were given further refreshments in the great hall. Around us, servants worked, preparing the room for what looked to be a feast. Additional trestles were erected, rushes replaced, silver shone, candles renewed and extra wood for the fireplace brought in. We learned from one of the knights seated by us that a special supper was being held tonight, hence the preparations.

‘Are we invited?' asked Alyson.

‘I'd have thought Master Banbury would have made mention.'

Alyson scowled. ‘Aye, you'd have thought.'

While we may have fooled others with our fine garments, Master Banbury knew what we were and evidently didn't want us gracing his tables that evening. Though I felt embarrassed, I couldn't blame him. The king's retinue was in town; Gloucester was filled with nobles, merchants and the highest church officials as well. This was his chance to make an impression, just as it was mine, and there was no place for brewsters and bathhouse owners in his hall tonight, even if they were acquainted with the Rainfords and on king's business.

Clearly I hadn't made a very good impression on Master Banbury, despite my fine clothes and manners.

Some people looked through facades and still didn't see.

Finally, we were taken upstairs to our room. The housekeeper, a stout but surprisingly young woman, advised us that a tray would be delivered at suppertime. Until then, we were at liberty to explore or rest at our leisure.

‘The master apologises for not inviting you to dine in the hall tonight, but he said it's not a place for ladies. He's hosting the Worshipful Company of Mercers you see, and Master Thomas Chaucer — he's likely to become Speaker for the ­Commons, you know — and a few others. He said it could become rowdy.'

After that, my impression of Master Banbury underwent an immediate reassessment.

As we settled ourselves into the room, with its generous pile of furs on the bed and a window opening onto an expansive view of the town, Alyson pulled her boots off and asked, ‘How are you s'posed to meet the king if he's not here yet? My understanding was we deliver the brew, stay a couple of days, then return, hopefully with the king's blessing in our ears and a contract for more ale in our hands.'

I sat on the bed. The mattress was soft, the furs quality. My hand stroked them absent-mindedly.

‘That was my assumption as well. I'm sure His Grace can't be far away — the town is bursting with folk expecting him. Not all of them will be able to wait upon his Grace's leisure.'

Alyson leaned back in her chair. ‘Neither can we. I was happy enough to place some distance between myself and Master Fynk for a few weeks, but king's decree or naught, I'll be heading back within a day or two. Some of us have to work.'

‘Aye.' I flung myself back on the bed, my arms describing arcs in the fur as my head sank into the soft pillows. Sunlight dappled the ceiling, making the panels between the dark beams writhe. ‘Some of us do. But thank the dear Lord, not right this moment.'

Intending to rest my eyes but briefly, I drifted into the deepest of slumbers.

It was not yet vespers when we took advantage of the late sunshine and wandered through the town. Master Banbury may not have desired us in his hall (with good reason), but he showed us hospitality in other ways, sending an escort for us when he learned we'd like a stroll before supper. Master Gervase Fuller was a newly appointed constable, the youngest son of a successful fuller who lived by the quay. Having grown up in Gloucester, he was able to show us the best streets and take us to shops where the owners were less likely to swindle visitors. We wandered along the main road, back past the large cross to Oxbode Lane, which was bursting with shops selling everything from beads and spices to knives, candles and laces. Bartering with the shopkeepers, Alyson purchased some gloves for Betje and Juliana, a necktie each for Adam and Harry and other trinkets for the girls. Near the Church of the Holy Trinity, I bought some lovely fabric for a new tunic for Betje and some dresses for the twins. Like Alyson, I spent my coin on baubles to amuse Betje and Harry as well as something for Juliana, Constance and Emma. For Adam, I bought a beautiful quill made from a dark wood which had an elegant peacock feather attached.

The afternoon sunshine quickly faded to the soft hues of gold, rose and duck-egg blue. The first stars twinkled in the firmament, a flock of starlings rose to swerve one way, then another, before disappearing to the west. As we passed by a tavern and some alehouses, talk was loud and much of it about the king. He'd arrived at the abbey only hours before, whilst we slumbered, with his vast entourage, including his sons. My ears pricked for news of Leander, but with so many by the king's side, the chances of even a whisper were unrealistic. Nonetheless, I hoped.

What we did hear were rumours about the king's health. Unable to ride the distances to which he'd once been accustomed, his river journey from his estates in Lancaster had been slow. He was afflicted with a skin complaint that rendered him very ill; no doctor or apothecary had been able to fathom the source of it, though many had tried. Doctors in Gloucester were poised to come to his aid if necessary.

King Henry had assured the Lancastrian succession with so many sons, but that didn't stop the Ricardians, who either still believed King Richard was alive or that his blood should inherit, stirring up old enmities. Even here in Gloucester, I'd heard the king referred to as the usurper — a name that could land the person uttering it in a great deal of trouble. All I could think was that the king's health must be a great deal worse than I'd suspected if that sort of talk was about.

Alyson pulled her cloak more tightly around her as a cool breeze ushered in nightfall and we prepared to head back to Master Banbury's residence. ‘Since it's in the same direction, how 'bout we walk past the abbey walls,' she suggested. ‘It'll get us out this wind and we get a chance to see where the king is staying.'

And Leander. I smiled at her gratefully.

With seeming goodwill, Master Gervase steered us into Grace Lane and along the street that ran by the abbey walls. Almost immediately the wind dropped. The abbey dwarfed the entire area. The main spire soared into the violet heavens and, over the walls and hedges, I caught glimpses of the chapel, its arches with their saints, gargoyles and twinkling glass. As we approached the gates, the cloisters' rows of elegant columns came into view. A monument to faith and godliness, the abbey was truly remarkable; a place both fit for a king and his dear Lord. My eyes were so busy scanning the towers and spires that I failed to notice two monks deep in discussion with the guards by the wooden gates.

Dressed in the king's livery, with pikes in their hands and swords at their hips, the soldiers stepped in front of the monks, whether to protect them or ask our business, I was uncertain. It was only when I heard the ring of a sword being drawn that I gasped and halted abruptly. When they saw we were but two women and a gentleman, they relaxed and waved us on.

Holding each other tightly, Alyson and I scurried past. At the last moment, I looked through the open gates in the foolish hope that Leander might be loitering in the gardens beyond. As I did, my eyes alighted on the monks. These were no ordinary men of God, but from their habits and bearing, bore high rank within the church.

The taller of the two glanced my way and, as his pale eyes met mine, I staggered. Only Alyson's firm grip prevented me from falling as everything before me darkened and my heart pounded in my ears. Recovering, I loosened my hold upon Alyson and looked over my shoulder, but the monk had turned his back to us.

My head spun. My thoughts whirled.

I barely remember the rest of our walk, arriving at Master Banbury's, passing through the gates, Alyson giving the porter a groat and thanking Master Gervase for his excellent company. Music and the sounds of merrymaking drifted from the hall. Ascending to our chamber, Alyson prattled on, telling the waiting maidservant where we'd been and what we'd seen. I barely registered any of it. Undoing my cloak, I let it fall upon the bed and drifted to the window. Though it was dusk and the silhouette of Gloucester's buildings and crofts spread before me, the abbey foremost, I saw none of it. All I could see was a pair of pale blue eyes, so like those that haunted my nightmares.

‘What is it?' asked Alyson after the maid had left. ‘You haven't said a word since we passed the abbey. Pining for Sir Leander, are you? You didn't really expect to spy him, did you? You'll see him soon enough, sweetling.'

‘Nay,' I said finally, facing her. ‘It's not Sir Leander I'm thinking about.'

There must have been something in my tone for Alyson cupped my chin in her hand, concern on her face. ‘Tell me, chick, who is it who's stolen your tongue and invaded that pretty head of yours? You've not been the same since we saw those monks.'

A quiver ran through me and I folded my arms around my body. ‘Alyson, I can barely breathe, barely think.' My eyes darted to the window. ‘I know this sounds impossible, that it defies sense, but I swear to you, as we passed the abbey, I saw someone I thought never to see again.'

‘Who?'

‘I saw Westel Calkin.'

FORTY-NINE

THE HOUSE OF JOHN BANBURY AND GLOUCESTER ABBEY

24th October

The year of Our Lord 1407 in the eighth year of the reign of Henry IV

S
haring fears with loved ones does much to reduce them. Rather than dismissing worries, they try to make sense of them while also offering consolation. So it was as I sat and talked with Alyson and, later, after the bells for compline sounded and the remnants of supper were taken away, Leander and Tobias as well.

When the knock on the door sounded, I believed it to be the maidservant come to collect our trays. Distracted as I bade her enter, it was only when I heard Alyson exclaim that I turned around and saw Leander and Tobias on the threshold.

I wanted nothing more than to fly into Leander's arms and shower him with kisses, but, containing my feelings, I dropped a curtsey and offered him my hands instead of my mouth. My brother I embraced warmly, admiring the cut of his new surcoat and breeches, both, he informed me, in honour of his first parliament; he would accompany his master to each sitting. We summoned the maid and requested additional cups to be brought and more wine. With Alyson and Tobias as my chaperones, Leander's presence could not damage my reputation and so we were able to converse easily and exchange stories about our respective travels.

Relieved to know we'd encountered no troubles on our trip, Leander inquired as to the health of everyone in Southwark. Much to my chagrin, I hadn't heard and was only able to inform him that when we parted, all was well.

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