The House on the Strand (14 page)

Nobody answered. The novice, believing himself safe, began to crawl away, but Roger caught at him once again and held him.

"Not so fast," he said, "I haven't finished with you. What else did Master Henry Bloyou tell the Prior?"

"No more than I have said," stammered the boy.

"Nothing concerning the safety of the realm itself?" Roger made as though to seize the flare from the bench, and the novice, trembling, put up his hands in self-defence.

"He spoke of rumours from the north," he faltered, "that trouble is still brewing between the King and his mother Queen Isabella, and might break out into open strife before long. If so, he wondered who in the west would be loyal to the young King, and who would declare for the Queen and her lover Mortimer."

"I thought as much," said Roger. "Now crawl into a corner and stay mute. If you blab a word of this outside these walls I'll slit your tongue for you."

He turned and faced the five men, who stared back at him uncertainly, this latest information having shocked them into silence.

"Well?" asked Roger. "What do you make of it? Are you all dumb?" The fellow called Trefrengy shook his head. "It's none of our business," he said. "The King can quarrel with his mother if he wants. It does not concern us."

"You think not?" queried Roger. "Not even if the Queen and Mortimer should keep the power within their own hands still? I know of some in these parts who would prefer it so, and would be recompensed for declaring for the Queen when the battle was done. Yes, and pay liberally if others would do the same."

"Not young Champernoune, said the man with the knife. He's under-age and tied to his mother's apron-strings. As for you, Roger, you'd never risk rebellion against a crowned king—not holding your position." He laughed derisively and the others joined in, but the steward, looking at each in turn, remained unmoved.

"Victory is assured if action is swift and power seized overnight," he said. "If that is what the Queen and Mortimer intend, we shall all of us be on the winning side if we keep sweet with their friends. There could be some division of manor lands, who knows? And instead of grazing your cattle amongst reeds, Geoffrey Lampetho, you might have the advantage of the hills above." The man with the knife shrugged his shoulders. "Easy said," he observed, "but who are these friends, so ready with their promises? I know of none."

"Sir Otto Bodrugan," for one, said Roger quietly. A murmur rose amongst the men, the name Bodrugan was repeated, and Henry Trefrengy, who had spoken against the French monks, shook his head once more.

"He's a fine man, none better," he said, "but the last time he rebelled against the Crown, in 1322, he lost, and was fined a thousand marks for his pains."

"He was recompensed four years later when the Queen made him Governor of Lundy island," replied Roger. "The lea of Lundy makes good anchorage for vessels carrying arms, and men as well, who can lie in safety there until they're needed on the mainland. Bodrugan is no fool. What is easier for him, holding lands in Cornwall and in Devon, and Governor of Lundy into the bargain, than to raise the men and ships that the Queen needs?" His argument, smooth, persuasive, seemed to make impact, especially upon Lampetho. "If there's profit in it for us I'd wish him well," he said, "and rally to his side when the deed is done. But I won't cross the Tamar for any man, Bodrugan or another, and you can tell him so."

"You may tell him yourself," said Roger. "His vessel lies below, and he knows I await him here. I tell you, friends, Queen Isabella will show her gratitude to him, and to others, who knew which side to favour." He went to the foot of the ladder. "Come down, Robbie," he called. "Take a light across the field and see if Sir Otto is on his way," and turning to the others, "I'm ready to strike a blow for him if you are not." His brother came down the ladder, and, seizing one of the flares, ran out into the yard beyond the kitchen.

Henry Trefrengy, more cautious than his companions, stroked his chin. "What lies in it for you, Roger, by siding with Bodrugan? Will the lady Joanna join forces with her brother against the King?"

"My lady has no part in any of it," replied Roger shortly. "She is away from home, at her other property of Trelawn, with her own children and Bodrugan's wife and family. None of them have any knowledge of what is at stake."

"She won't thank you when she hears of it," replied Trefrengy, "nor Sir John Carminowe either. It is common knowledge they only wait for Sir John's lady to die so that they can marry."

"Sir John's lady is healthy and likely to continue so," answered Roger, "and when the Queen makes Bodrugan Keeper of Restormel Castle and overseer of all the Duchy lands, my lady may lose her interest in Sir John and look upon her brother with more affection than she does now. I don't doubt I shall be recompensed by Bodrugan, and forgiven by my lady." He smiled, and scratched his ear.

"By the faith," said Lampetho, "we all know you lay your plans to suit yourself. Whoever wins the day will find you at his elbow. Bodrugan or Sir John at Restormel Castle, and you will be standing at the drawbridge, holding a well-lined purse."

"I don't deny it," said Roger, smiling still. "If you possessed the same ability for thought you would do like wise."

Footsteps sounded from the yard beyond, and he crossed to the door and flung it open. Otto Bodrugan stood on the threshold, with young Robbie behind him.

"Enter, sir, and welcome. We are all friends," said Roger, and Bodrugan came into the kitchen, looking sharply about him, surprised, I think, to see the little group of men who, embarrassed by his sudden arrival, drew back against the wall. His tunic was laced to the throat, with a padded leather jerkin over all, belted with purse and dagger, and a travelling cloak, fur-trimmed, hung from his shoulders. He made a contrast to the others in their homespun cloth and hoods, and it was evident from his air of confidence that he was used to commanding men.

"I am very glad to see you," he said at once, advancing to each in turn. "Henry Trefrengy, isn't it? And Martin Penhelek. John Beddyng I know too—your uncle rode north with me in 22. The others I have not met before."

"Geoffrey Lainpetho, sir, and his brother Philip," said Roger. "They farm the valley adjoining Julian Polpey's land, beneath the Priory manor."

"Is Julian not here, then?"

"He awaits us at Polpey."

Bodrugan's eye fell upon the novice, still crouching beside the bench. "What is the monk doing here amongst you?"

"He brought us information, sir," said Roger. "There has been some trouble at the Priory, a matter of discipline in the house amongst the brothers, of no concern to us, but disturbing in that the Bishop has lately sent Master Bloyou from Exeter to enquire into the business."

"Henry Bloyou? A close friend to Sir John Carminowe and Sir William Ferrers. Is he still at the Priory?"

The novice, anxious to please, touched Bodrugan's knee. "No, sir, he has gone. He left yesterday for Exeter, but promised to return shortly."

"Well, get to your feet, lad, no harm shall come to you." Bodrugan turned to the steward. "Have you been threatening him?"

"Not a hair of his head," protested Roger. "He is only frightened that the Prior might learn of his presence here, despite my promise to the contrary."

Roger signalled to Robbie to take the novice to the upper room, and the pair of them disappeared up the ladder, the novice in as much hurry to be gone as a kicked dog. When the two had gone Bodrugan, standing before the hearth, his hands on his belt, looked keenly at each one of the men.

"What Roger has been telling you about our chances I do not know," he said, "but I can promise you a better life when the King is in custody." No one answered. "Has Roger informed you that most of the country will declare for Queen Isabella in a few days time?" he asked them. Henry Trefrengy, who seemed to be spokesman, was bold enough to speak. "He has told us so, yes," he said, "but little detail of it."

"It is a question of the timing," replied Bodrugan. "Parliament now sits at Nottingham, and it is planned to seize the King—with all care for his safety, naturally—until he comes of age. In the meantime Queen Isabella will continue as Regent, with Mortimer to aid her. He may lack popularity with some, but he is a strong man, and capable, and a very good friend of many Cornishmen. I am proud to count myself amongst them." Silence again. Then Geoffrey Lampetho stepped forward. "What would you have us do?" he asked.

"Come north with me, if you will," answered Bodrugan, "but if not, and God knows I cannot make you, then promise to swear allegiance to Queen Isabella when word comes from Nottingham that we hold the King."

"That's spoken fairly," said Roger. "For my part I say yes, and gladly, and will ride with you."

"And so will I," said another, the man called Penhelek.

"And I too," cried the third, John Beddyng. Only the Lampetho brothers and Trefrengy were reluctant.

"We'll swear allegiance when the moment comes," said Geoffrey Lampetho, "but we'll swear it at home, not across the Tamar."

"Also fairly spoken," said Bodrugan. "If the King had the power himself we should be at war with France within ten years, fighting across the Channel. By supporting the Queen now we strike a blow for peace. I have the promise of at least a hundred men from my own lands, from Bodrugan, from Tregrehan and further west, and from Devon too. Shall we go and see how Julian Polpey stands?" There was a general stir amongst the men as they made towards the door.

"The tide is flooding across the ford," said Roger. "We must cross the valley by Trefrengy and Lampetho. I have a pony for you, sir. Robbie?" He called his brother from the room above.

"Have you the pony saddled for Sir Otto? And mine as well? Make haste, then..." And as the boy came down the ladder he whispered in his ear, "Brother Jean will send for the novice later. Keep him until then. As for myself, I cannot say when I shall return."

We found ourselves in the stableyard, a huddle of ponies and men, and I knew I must go too, for Roger was mounting his pony beside Bodrugan, and wherever he went I was compelled to follow. The clouds were racing across the sky, the wind was blowing, and the stamping of ponies and the jingle of harness rang in my ear.

Never before, neither in my own world nor on the previous occasions when I had strayed into the other, had I felt such a sense of unity.

I was one of them, and they did not know it. I belonged amongst them, and they did not know it. This, I think, was the essence of what it meant to me. To be bound, yet free; to be alone, yet in their company; to be born in my own time yet living, unknown, in theirs.

They rode up the track thiough the little copse bordering Kilmarth, and at the top of the hill, instead of following the route of the modern road I knew, they struck across the summit and then plunged steeply towards the valley. The track was rough, making the ponies stumble from time to time, and twisting too. The descent seemed almost as sharp as a cliff-face, but, disembodied as I felt myself to be, I was no judge of height or depth, and my only guides were the men upon their ponies. Then, through the darkness, I saw the gleam of water, and presently we plumbed the valley's depth and reached a wooden bridge bordering a stream, across which the ponies walked dry-shod in single file, and the path wound to the left, following the water's course, until the stream itself widened to a broad creek that opened out in the far distance to the sea itself. I knew I must be on the opposite side of the valley from Polmear hill, but because I was abroad in their world and it was night, the judging of distance was impossible; I could only follow the ponies, my eyes firmly fixed on Roger and Bodrugan.

The path led us past farm-buildings, where the Lampetho brothers dismounted, the elder, Geoffrey, shouting that he would follow later, and we went on again, the track rising to higher ground but still bordering the creek. There were further farm-buildings ahead above the sand-dunes where the river met the sea; even in the darkness I could see the gleam of the white rollers as they broke in the distance and then ran upon the shore. Someone came to meet us, there were barking dogs and flares, and we were in yet another stable-yard, similar to the one at Kilmarth, with outbuildings surrounding it. As the men dismounted from their ponies the door of the main building opened, and I recognised the man who came forward to greet us. It was Roger's compamon on the day of the Bishop's reception at the Priory, the same who had walked with him afterwards on the village green. Roger, the first to dismount, was the first at his friend's side, and even in the dim light of the lantern by the house door I could see his expression change as the man whispered hurriedly in his ear, pointing to the further side of the farm-buildings.

Bodrugan saw this too, for jumping off his pony he called out, "What's amiss, Julian? Has your opinion changed since I saw you last? "

Roger turned swiftly. "Bad tidings, sir. For your ear only." Bodrugan hesitated for a moment, then quickly said, "As you will," and put out his hand to the owner of the house. "I had hoped", he said, "we would muster arms and men at Polpey, Julian. My ship is anchored below Kylmerth, you must have seen her. There are several aboard, ready to disembark." Julian Polpey shook his head. "I am sorry, Sir Otto, they will not be needed, nor yourself either. Word came not ten minutes ago that the whole scheme has been defeated before it took final shape. A very special messenger has brought you the news herself, disregarding, if I may say so, her own safety."

I could hear Roger, over my shoulder, telling the men to mount their ponies and ride back to Lampetho, where he would presently join them. Then, handing his pony's reins to the servant standing by, he joined Polpey and Bodrugan as they made their way past the outbuildings to the further side of the house.

"It is Lady Carminowe," said Bodrugan to Roger, his glad confidence vanished, his face sharp with anxiety. "She has brought bad news."

"Lady Carminowe?" exclaimed Roger, incredulous, then with sudden understanding, and lowering his voice, "you mean the lady Isolda?"