‘I’m not jesting, and it is Boniface who will be doing the paying.’ He gave her a hard kiss and swept from the room.
*
Biting his thumbnail, Aymer looked at William. ‘What am I to do? I have the right to appoint my own priest for St Thomas’s. Boniface and his man think they can get away with what they have done because they have the protection of the Queen, but I cannot ignore this.’
William grimaced. He knew what he would do, but Joanna would be horrified and it would make their position precarious when they were already in dubious favour. Aymer’s man had been wrongfully imprisoned, and they had to retaliate in no uncertain terms. ‘You are in the right,’ he said. ‘Take some knights, go to Maidstone and free your man. Then find Boniface’s official and deal with him tit for tat.’
Aymer stared at William, and William looked back steadily, acknowledging they had crossed a boundary.
‘Do it,’ Aymer said.
‘I need men,’ William said. Attacking an ecclesiastical building was no light matter, but Aymer’s man could not be left at the mercy of the Archbishop’s soldiers. ‘Reliable, fast, loyal. But I dare not accompany them. When it comes to standing before the King, I have to be as innocent as a lily.’
‘I have a couple of trustworthy knights.’
William nodded. ‘I will send Roger d’Aguillon and his men, but none must wear badges or identifying marks. Let plain surcoats and livery be the order of the day.’ He swiftly set about organising a band of knights and serjeants to go to the rescue of Aymer’s priest, with instructions then to seize Boniface’s man, Eustace of Lenn. He knew there were would be repercussions, especially when the Queen got to hear of the matter, for she would defend the Archbishop to the bone, but he would speak to the King and do his best.
*
The following evening, William and Aymer were sitting at the fire in the Bishop’s palace at Southwark when the knights returned from their mission. Roger d’Aguillon reported to the chamber, ushering before him a filth-stained cleric. The priest sported bruises and a black eye. Raw weal marks encircled his wrists where he had been manacled. He rushed over to Aymer and prostrated himself. ‘Thank you, my lord, thank you!’ he sobbed. ‘You have saved my life!’ A strong smell of excrement wafted from his garments.
‘All right, all right.’ Aymer patted his shoulder then quickly removed his hand, his nostrils flaring. ‘Pull yourself together, man, and sit down.’ He directed a servant to bring wine.
‘We found him at Maidstone,’ d’Aguillon said, ‘trussed like a chicken, as you can see from his wrists. No cloak, no food or water, and he had had to piss and shit on the floor. His robes are foul because they’d kicked him around the courtyard.’ D’Aguillon curled his lip. ‘We considered setting fire to the place but decided it would be a step too far, but we did borrow a good horse to bring your man away with us.’
‘Did you find Eustace de Lenn?’ Aymer demanded, his eyes bright with fury.
D’Aguillon grinned. ‘Yes. Skulking at the Archbishop’s palace in Lambeth. We paid a visit on our way back and found him dining in his quarters, but we persuaded him to leave his meal and accompany us.’ He jerked his head. ‘He’s in yonder garderobe, blindfolded and tied up.’ He looked at William. ‘I thought you might not want to be seen, sire.’
William pursed his lips. He had not wanted to be involved at all, but now it had happened a sense of adventure and dark amusement was rising inside him, not to say a desire for justice. ‘He is blindfolded, you say?’
‘Yes, sire – thick dark cloth; he can’t see a thing. And we put a sack over the top for good measure and tied it around his throat – although he can still breathe.’
William and Aymer went to the garderobe where d’Aguillon had thrown Eustace de Lenn. From within came the sound of furious grunts and bumping about. As Aymer opened the door, Eustace scrabbled backwards.
‘When my master learns of this you will be excommunicated and flung into the furthest pit of hell!’ he screeched through the sacking. ‘You will be eaten by devils and all your line will be cursed for eternity! Sons of fornicators and whores! You will—’
His voice cut off in a strangled squawk as William lunged and grabbed him by the throat. ‘You might want to mend your words lest they be your last on earth.’
‘His words have no power,’ Aymer said with a shrug. ‘No more than the hissing of a cat.’
They dragged a cursing, struggling Eustace into the courtyard and pushed him on to a horse, tying his wrists to the pommel. William clipped on a lead rein.
‘Do your worst!’ Eustace spat. ‘I will be avenged. Kill me and hack my corpse into a thousand pieces!’
‘I am sure you would love to become a martyr like Thomas Becket,’ Aymer replied, ‘but I am disinclined to oblige your tendencies.’
They set out in the small hours of the morning, their first intention to house Eustace in the dungeon of the Bishop of Winchester’s keep at Farnham. However, after a while, William called a halt. Eustace was making loud, inarticulate noises of protest behind them.
‘We have gone far enough with this sorry excuse for a cleric,’ he said to Aymer. ‘I don’t want to waste any more time on him. We should let him go, although I see no reason to lose a good horse into the bargain.’
Aymer pondered briefly, and then nodded. He dismounted, and going to Eustace, hauled him from the saddle, threw him on the ground and, leaning over him, cut his wrist bindings. ‘I’m sure you can find your way to your master from here,’ he said. ‘But if ever you trespass above your authority again, you will not live, and that is a promise.’
William and Aymer rode away, leaving Eustace in the middle of the road, wrestling to unfasten the sack from around his neck.
Joanna had been waiting for two days without news – no messengers, no stories from passing folk, nothing. Now, suddenly, she heard the dogs barking a furious warning and welcome.
‘Papa’s home!’ Iohan yelled, dashing to meet him.
