April Munday (15 page)

In the morning Sir Walter demanded a parley. Knowing she could not go herself, Rosamunde wanted to send Thomas. But Richard said that he should be the one to go to show her disrespect to Sir Walter. “I am a Frenchman and a prisoner. I am the lowliest person in this castle.”

Guy, whose suspicions of Richard appeared to have lessened of late said, “You think to go over to him and gain your freedom.” But it seemed a half-hearted protest, even to Rosamunde.

“No,” said Richard, surprised as if the thought had not even occurred to him. “I have no wish to ally myself to a man like Sir Walter, even if it did bring me my freedom. It would not be honourable.”

“It is a good idea for you to go,” said Rosamunde, stepping between the two men. “Sir Walter will be insulted. He will think we have sent the most expendable person in the castle.”

The three men looked blank. Then Richard smiled and nodded. “Because I am a cripple.”

“And because your English is so bad,” she apologised.

“Ah. You wish me to stumble and pretend not to understand and to speak badly.”

“Then,” said Thomas, “He will wonder why your father sent Richard back to you at all.”

“I think it will be enough if you limp only slightly more than you do. Anyway, Sir Walter does not now that there is no ransom.”

“But you do not think I need to exaggerate how poor my English is?”

“Your English is poor,” said Thomas, patting him on the shoulder. “It is only that we are grown used to it.”

Rosamunde smiled. “I am sorry, but Thomas is right. Sir Walter will understand very little of what you say to him.”

Richard blushed. “I used to think my English was very good. My mother is English, you know.”

Rosamunde smiled. “So was mine, but she still tried to bring me up to speak French.”

Richard left the castle alone and Rosamunde recalled his words about not showing fear. He did not look at all afraid. But there were at least three hundred men outside the castle walls and if Sir Walter considered the insult severe enough, there was no one to stop him killing Richard. The parley was taking place beyond the range of the castle’s archers.

She watched anxiously as Sir Walter and two other men rode up towards Richard. Sir Walter had quickly decided that she had sent an idiot to him and his gestures grew wilder as his frustration grew. Although Richard could not communicate very clearly in English, Rosamunde knew that he understood every one of the insults that Sir Walter was obviously hurling at him, but he did not respond to them. Eventually he turned his back on Sir Walter and limped away. Rosamunde held her breath. This was the moment when Richard was most exposed. But he made it safely into the castle. Rosamunde, who had been waiting in the gatehouse, unconsciously reached out her hand and drew him towards her. “Thank goodness you’re safe,” she said.

“I am well,” he replied. “Sir Walter’s anger did not extend to killing a lackwit French messenger.”

“You enjoyed it,” she said with a sudden laugh.

“Yes, I did. And when I have asked Thomas to explain a couple of the phrases Sir Walter used, I shall also have expanded my vocabulary.”

He smiled at her, gently taking his hand back, thus reminding her that they were not alone. “And now, we wait. It is possible that Sir Walter has more tricks. But I have given it much thought and I cannot see how he can trick his way into the castle or trick you out, since we are ready for him. No, I think he gambled everything on you being stupid and lost. He does not know you well after all.” Richard seemed pleased by this thought and Rosamunde was satisfied. There had been no fighting, everyone was safely in the castle and Richard no longer seemed to believe that she had betrayed herself to the enemy.

For most of the people in the castle, the time of the siege was very dull. As they had surmised, Sir Walter did not bring siege engines. He had expected to have his way by guile and the purpose of his army was to protect him from an attack by the castle garrison once he had Rosamunde. Despite his first impression, Richard had come to admit that the castle was formidably well protected. It might have been built haphazardly, but each new addition had been planned to make the castle stronger, as Sir Walter was now discovering. He was ill-prepared for a siege and seemed to have no means of attacking the castle other than setting fires at the bottom of the castle walls, but the duke’s archers would not let his men get close enough to do so.  As soon as the men appeared with the battering ram arrows rained down on them from the castle walls. They kept watch day and night and managed to fire with a surprising degree of accuracy even at night. Thomas and Richard predicted that he would eventually fashion some kind of catapult.

Privately, Richard thought that even a catapult would be prohibitively expensive for Sir Walter. He might manage to make an efficient battering ram, but that meant that he would have to try a full frontal attack and he would have to do it soon. Early November brought thick fog and Richard was afraid that Sir Walter would attack the castle under its cover. Sir Walter tried, but as soon as the battering ram slammed into a wall the archers knew where their targets were. At that range, they did not have to be able to see them clearly to be able to hit them. The weather changed again and the ground became hard with frost and the skies were clear day and night. If Sir Walter wanted Rosamunde he would have to take her soon. The duke would return with the better weather. Each morning for the first week there was posturing from Sir Walter or one of his lieutenants. Each morning Richard rode down into the town to respond. On the third morning Richard came back with the information that he had tried to discuss the situation with Sir Walter in French only to discover that Sir Walter’s French was worse than Richard’s English. This had amused him so much that he had laughed in Sir Walter’s face, only to have the baronet punch him so hard that Richard returned to the castle with blood running from a cut above his eye. Common sense had dictated that Richard refrain from responding in kind, he was surrounded by angry armed men. So he had turned his back on his enemy as if Sir Walter were of no consequence and returned to the castle to report.

“He is not nobly born,” said Guy dismissively. Richard had noted that Guy’s own mastery of French was impressive, but recalled that Thomas had said that he had no rank. Was Guy trying to lay claim to a higher rank than he possessed?

He discussed it later with Margaret, who was not averse to gossip when she thought that Rosamunde was not listening.

“He is the bastard son of the duke’s cousin,” she explained.

“But he also has a sister here,” Richard gave voice to his confusion.

Margaret looked across the still-room to where Rosamunde sat with the castle’s accounts which she was going through in preparation for her meeting with the steward the next morning. Rosamunde was biting her lip in her efforts to make sense of the figures. Satisfied that her mistress was not paying any attention to them, Margaret lowered her voice and continued, “She was the mistress of the Earl of Somerset. He gave her three children and two lived – Guy and Blanche. Guy is devoted to his sister. When the earl tired of their mother he cast her out and she had nowhere to go. She and the youngest child died, but Guy and Blanche came here. The duke took them in and Guy has served him faithfully ever since.”

It was a common enough story. Richard’s father had had three mistresses that he knew about. He assumed that he had bastard brothers and sisters, but had never troubled to find out. He had never considered what happened to the mistresses and children when the former had fallen out of favour. The women, of course, had brought it on themselves, but the children were blameless. Richard resolved to be less antagonistic towards Guy. He knew that the younger man distrusted him, but Richard now understood that this was out of gratitude to the duke who had offered him sanctuary. Since Richard admired the duke himself, he thought that this was something that they had in common. They both sought to follow the duke’s orders concerning Rosamunde’s safety. As he thought about it over the next few days, Richard became aware that Guy’s attitude to Rosamunde was not that of a grateful relative, but came out of some deeper feeling. He would follow Rosamunde with his eyes when he thought no one was looking. He always stood close to her, ready to fulfil her slightest wish as quickly as possible. Could it be that the Earl of Somerset’s bastard loved his lord’s daughter? The man could hardly expect to win her hand. He had nothing and was no one. A man as proud as the duke, and Richard had reason to know that he was proud, would never accept such a man for his daughter.

The castle felt very crowded now. It seemed to Rosamunde that she could go nowhere without giving way to small children or animals. There was a tension between the people of the castle and the town, but it was up to her to keep the peace. She could not afford to show favouritism and so became hard. It was only when she was with Margaret, Thomas and Guy that she could be herself. She dared not think about who she was when she was with Richard. She felt as if she was someone totally different with him. Their lessons continued, but with a new urgency. They spent less time together, however, as Rosamunde had more duties in the castle. She met with the burgesses each day. These meetings replaced those with the steward. Since the farms had been evacuated, he had nothing to tell her. He reported weekly on the state of supplies within the castle walls, but Rosamunde knew that they had planned well and stored wisely. It would be many weeks before she needed to worry about food. The burgesses, however, constantly brought her complaints. They complained about their accommodation, about the accommodation of the townspeople, about the distribution of the food and about the treatment of the womenfolk by the men of the garrison.

At first, Rosamunde had met them alone, with Margaret as her chaperone. After the first few days she had left Margaret behind and gone with Thomas, Guy and Richard. She did not know why she included Richard. He was only impressive if he did not move or speak and the burgesses were not frightened of him, but she took comfort from his presence.

Her insistence on his attendance appeared to confuse the burgesses and she was glad. There had been a constant clash of wills and she was weary of it. She appreciated that it was a great inconvenience for them, but what they did not seem to understand was that she had no choice. Her father had told her to hold fast against Sir Walter and that was what she would do. It was not her decision, nor that of the burgesses. They could not expect the castle’s protection in time of war if they could not also put up with the inconvenience of withstanding a siege.

It was Richard who inspired her. Despite the pain caused by Margaret’s ministrations, he was constantly cheerful and even seemed determined to befriend Guy. She, in turn, decided to work hard with the burgesses, even when they seemed set on causing problems.

It was in this spirit that she met the burgesses each day and each day they strove to take advantage of her apparent weakness. She decided that she was going to have to show her strength.

Robert Tyler was a man her father had long since identified as a troublemaker and she singled him out one morning. Blanche was ill and Rosamunde had given Guy permission to stay with her, so she entered the solar with Thomas and Richard. The five burgesses were waiting for her and this angered her. They would never have behaved in this way with her father.

“What do you bring to me today?” she asked. Richard and Thomas looked at one another. This was a more determined Rosamunde and they knew there would be trouble ahead, even if the burgesses did not.

As she had expected, Robert Tyler stepped forward. He dipped his head. Thomas’ hand went to the hilt of his sword at the disrespect. Robert swallowed hard.

“Stay, Thomas.” Rosamunde held out her hand. “Let us hear what Robert has to say before we decide whether or not to kill him.”

Robert paled, but stood his ground. “The food distribution is unequal.”

Richard stepped forward, making sure that he rattled his sheathed sword to remind the burgess that he was also armed. “You call her ‘Lady Rosamunde!’”

Robert spat. “I do not take commands from Frenchmen.”

“Nonetheless,” said Rosamunde imperiously, “You will take orders from Sir Richard.” She waited.

“I have a complaint…” began Robert.

“Did you not hear me?” asked Richard loudly.

Rosamunde turned her back on Robert and made as if to leave. She heard the burgesses muttering behind her, then Robert cleared his throat. “Lady Rosamunde…”

She turned back to him.  “Now, what is the problem?”

Robert swallowed again. “The food distribution is unequal…” He stole a look at Richard, who had his hand on the hilt of his sword and was pulling it from its sheath. Since Rosamunde had not seen fit to stop him, Robert revised his ideas of what was due to his lord’s daughter. “My lady.”

“In what way?” Rosamunde looked at him imperiously.

Robert was surprised and glanced at the reeve. “The garrison receive more than the townspeople.”

“Is that so?” Rosamunde feigned indifference, but she knew that she had ordered more rations to be given to the townspeople. The garrison was used to living on short rations and there had been no complaints when she had ordered it for them. She had accepted short rations for herself and made it known to the garrison that she had done so. It was unthinkable that she had been disobeyed.

“And what do you propose?”

Robert blinked, surprised again, and Rosamunde gave him no chance to answer. “Let me suggest that you burgesses be given the same rations as the garrison.”

Robert preened and three of the other burgesses smiled. Only the older and more experienced William Archer looked doubtful.

“That would be most acceptable, Lady Rosamunde.”

Rosamunde smiled. “That concludes our business this morning. Thomas, see that the kitchen receives my orders about the burgesses.”

“Of course, my lady.”

Thomas and Richard followed her from the room and Rosamunde wondered how the burgesses thought they could have bested her, but they would soon learn how determined she was. William left with them and ran so that he came to stand in front of Rosamunde. “My lady!” He bowed low and Rosamunde stopped, remembering that William had been the only burgess not to put his own life above that of the townspeople.