The King of Thieves: by Michael Jecks Page A

which he preferred not to put to the test,
     certainly. He would be using his own bedroll, he decided, while they were staying here.
    In the event, he and Baldwin took space in the small inn nearby. This entailed sharing a small chamber with five other men,
     but at least all were from the King’s household,and should therefore have better hygiene than the monks.
    It was a pleasant little place, and their first night had been comfortable enough, with little in the way of irritating habits
     from the others in the room. Being only a small inn, there was no great bed for travellers, but space for each to spread a
     palliasse and a rug over the top. It was not the best bed Simon had ever used, but nor was it the worst.
    However, even on that first night, worn out from a long, rapid ride to comply with the King’s wishes, he found sleep evaded
     him. How could he rest content, when he had left his wife behind alone?
    She had been brave, of course. Meg always was. Her bright blue eyes never looked so clear and shining as when he left her.
     Her body was slim and taut against him, and her mouth soft and yielding when they kissed. She held him for a moment or two
     afterwards, looking deep into his eyes, and he knew that she understood he had no choice. He must go – unless he wished to
     incur the King’s displeasure.
    Meg had always been sensible. Even in those desperate times when they had been parted, she had not been a nag. She understood
     the imperatives of a man’s life and his duties. In those days, when he had been given the new, awful position of the Keeper’s
     representative at Dartmouth, she had never made him feel guilty about his decision to accept the post. She was sad that he
     had to leave her and the children, but she appreciated that it was not his fault.
    But this time, this parting was harder for both of them. He had already been away for so long, and the country was undeniably
     more turbulent than before. To be absent from home just now, when Despenser was growing ever more bold in his actions against
     them both, was enough to drive him frantic. It was not knowing what was happening that made himchew at his lips. For all he knew, his wife and son could have been attacked, along with Jeanne and Baldwin’s children.
    Then he chided himself. That was stupid. There was no likelihood of that. No. Jeanne had Edgar, Baldwin’s Sergeant from his
     days in the Knights Templar, to guard her and mobilise their peasants against any assault. Meg had Hugh, Simon’s long-standing
     servant – and the bane of his life. Edgar and Hugh together would be plenty adequate, even without Baldwin and Simon.
    It did not make his day any the more comfortable, though, to have lain tossing and turning on a flattened palliasse while
     all about him, men gently snored.
    They were unlikely to hear much about their duties that day, they both knew, but the lack of direction was enough to make
     Simon peevish. The food was no good, the ale worse, and the people here should be making more effort to assist the King’s
     own guards, he thought grumpily.
    ‘Simon, we shall be here for some little while, I expect. Try to ration your ill-temper, rather than venting it all today,
     eh?’ Baldwin said at one point with a half-smile.
    ‘If I could keep it in, I’d be a deal happier,’ Simon said.
    They were able to find a clerk late in the morning, just before noon, who was apparently aware of the King’s movements.
    ‘To France? No, I’m afraid he’s not going,’ the man said.
    ‘Sweet Jesus!’ Simon burst out. ‘Who can tell us what is happening? We’ve come here at no notice to accompany him to France,
     and now we’re here, you say it’ll not be for days?’
    ‘No, I didn’t say he wouldn’t be going for
days
,’ the clerk said. He was a pedantic old soul with a thin fuzz of hair encircling his bald pate. Now he frowned at Simon with
     a meditative expression. ‘When I said he wouldn’t be going, I meant it.