The Tintern Treasure Read Free Page A

be this far south again. Nor will I be in the mood to give my dame the slip for so long a while.’ His pleasant face darkened. ‘But this time she deserves it.’
    Once again, he didn’t enlarge on the subject, and it was obvious that he was labouring under a strong sense of grievance. But it was also obvious that he regretted having said so much. He wriggled uncomfortably on his stool and was plainly casting about in his mind for some other topic of conversation.
    I supplied it for him. ‘Were you still in York back in late summer, early autumn?’ I asked.
    â€˜I was just on the point of leaving. Why?’
    â€˜Before I left Bristol there was talk of King Richard having staged a second coronation in the Minster. Talk that someone – Sir Walter Tyrrell was the name bandied about – had been sent back to London to collect extra robes and jewels from the Wardrobe at the Tower. The rumour wasn’t too well received down south, I can tell you. There’s always the feeling there that our new king favours the north over the southern counties.’
    Oliver Tockney threw back his head and laughed out loud.‘Oh, aye! He’s a Yorkshireman to his fingertips all right is our Richard, God bless him! That would make the southrons spit, I daresay. But no one’ll ever alter him. Yorkshire’s bred in his bones. And in our new queen’s. But it wasn’t a second crowning that was held in the Minster, and so you can tell all your friends when you get back.’
    â€˜What was it then?’
    â€˜It was the ceremony to make his son, young Edward, Prince of Wales.’
    â€˜Ah! No one down south seems to have thought of that.’
    Yet again, wind and rain together lashed the inn. My companion and I huddled yet closer to the fire, and I threw on another log to keep it blazing. It was the sort of night when all the demons of hell seemed to be abroad.
    â€˜I’ve heard the French king’s dead,’ Oliver remarked after several minutes’ silence.
    I nodded. ‘I’ve heard the rumour, too. Whether it’s true or not, I couldn’t say. But if it is, it’ll be no loss to King Richard. King Louis never liked him, not after his refusal to take French bribes eight years back when the English invasion of France came to nought. Or was bought off, which is nearer the mark.’
    My new friend regarded me curiously. ‘You speak with some authority.’
    I cursed inwardly. I was always making mistakes like that. It’s not that I am, or ever have been, a particularly modest man, but the recounting of my various exploits and the answering of all the old, familiar questions has become a chore, a penance to be endured rather than relished.
    â€˜Oh, one hears things in our line of business,’ I prevaricated. ‘You know how it is.’
    To my relief, my companion seemed to accept this and lapsed once more into silence, staring gloomily into the fire, lost in his own thoughts.
    There was a loud banging on the inn door, and I heard the landlord yelling for one of the potboys to go and open it. The sound of voices penetrated our cosy retreat, followed by the sound of someone trying to shake the rain from his cloak. The landlord was speaking – I could hear his questioning tone, then the tramp of feet as he and the newcomer mounted the stairs to the upper chambers. After some minutes, someone clattered down again and the landlord entered the ale-room.
    â€˜A guest,’ he said sharply. ‘A gentleman. I’ll have to ask you two to move and continue your gossip elsewhere.’ He ignored our glares of resentment. Indeed, I doubt he even noticed them, preoccupied as he was by news that the stranger had brought. ‘He says a rebellion’s broken out in the south against the new king.’

TWO
    â€˜R ebellion?’
    Oliver Tockney and I framed the word together, incredulity in both our voices.
    â€˜Whose rebellion?’ I