The baronial party had declared that Guy and Geoffrey must leave the country for ever, but William and Aymer could remain in England under house arrest while the barons considered their position. Since house arrest could swiftly become imprisonment and even execution, they had chosen to depart. The outcome was never going to be in their favour with the fifteen set up as judge and jury. Edward had awarded Guy and Geoffrey lands and money on which to live, but whether they received it remained to be seen, since Edward himself had little to spare.
William fastened his cloak and joined his brothers, who had been making similar preparations. ‘Are you ready?’
Guy and Geoffrey nodded as one. Aymer picked up his crosier and adjusted the garnet cross on his breast. ‘The sooner the better.’
In the courtyard, Edward and John were already mounted. Under a light drizzle, a groom removed the rug covering the saddle as William came to his horse. Edward turned his mount side on and briefly addressed him and his brothers. ‘I wish you Godspeed and a fair wind to Normandy,’ he said. ‘I hope we shall all be reunited soon and in better circumstances.’
The palace gates opened and, with Edward’s heralds going before, bearing banners of truce and others flying the lions of England, the troop rode out from the safety of Wolvesey’s walls. William looked at the barons waiting beyond the moat and felt as though a cold sword blade was pressed to his spine.
Edward drew rein and addressed them in a voice that rang full and clearly, without any sign of an adolescent crack. ‘My lords,’ he said, ‘shall we return to Oxford now that we are agreed on our course, and let my uncles depart under a banner of truce?’
The animosity boring into William from the gathered nobles made the threat horribly real, even though agreement had been reached that he and his brothers would be escorted into exile. De Montfort’s two eldest sons glowered at him and his brothers, their hands hovering at their sword hilts. Their father glanced their way but did not castigate them. Joanna’s brother was mounted among de Montfort’s entourage and openly smirking. William flashed him a look of utter contempt. If the young fool thought that by hanging on to the tail of de Montfort’s horse he would gain favour and prestige, he was sadly mistaken. He was far more likely in that position to receive a face full of droppings.
William saluted the barons and bowed in the saddle to Edward. ‘Until we meet again,’ he said, and turned his rein.
‘I cannot believe you are letting them ride away!’ William heard de Montfort’s eldest son protest. ‘It is too dangerous! They will be plotting all manner of mischief behind our backs.’
‘Peace,’ his father growled. ‘We shall discuss it later. Now is not the time. I have given my word.’
‘Hah, we have not given ours!’
‘I said peace!’
William rode out of earshot. The rain spun down, cobweb-fine, from lowering clouds. ‘We should pick up the pace,’ he said. By increments he was being tied up in a sack; constricted into a dark, claustrophobic place with no escape.
It took two days to reach Pevensey. William constantly looked back for signs of pursuit, but the road stayed empty. He had chosen Pevensey rather than one of the other south coast ports because its lord was ally and kin to John de Warenne. Had they selected Dover, they would have been searched and stripped of what wealth they carried. Aymer had emptied Wolvesey of its plate and silver to pay their way and they had several pouches of coins including gold. Edward might have promised money to Guy and Geoffrey but William only had what he had brought with him from Oxford, although as part of the negotiations he had been promised the sum of cash belonging to him that he had stored at Waltham Abbey. He hoped Joanna had been thorough in concealing their other funds, because de Montfort would not hesitate to sequester whatever he could find.
William stared at the sea, cold green and crested with spray. A strong breeze flapped the sails of the two ships they had commissioned to bear them, their goods and horses across the sea.
John gripped his hand. ‘Godspeed. I will pray for your swift return.’ He handed William a large leather pouch, heavy with coins. ‘Twenty marks to cover your immediate needs. It is all I could lay hands on at short notice. I will send more when I can.’
‘You are a good friend.’
‘You are my brother,’ John answered, reddening. ‘Indeed, you are closer than my own blood kin.’
William blinked hard against the gusting wind, and a deeper emotion. ‘Take care of Joanna and the children for me,’ he said. ‘They will need help.’
‘I promise I shall,’ John replied. ‘And I will send news when I am able.’
‘Thank you.’ William had to swallow.
‘Don’t let me lose you too,’ John said. ‘Aliza would never forgive me and I would never forgive myself.’
‘You will not lose me,’ William said fiercely. ‘I have suffered a setback, but it is not an ending and there will not be one while I draw breath. De Montfort and his followers might be at the top of Fortune’s wheel, but there is only one way to go from there, as I well know, and it is their turn next.’
*
Joanna looked around her bare, swept chamber at Bampton, ready to leave. She had stripped everything of value, the hangings, the textiles, the coffers and their contents. Money and jewels were stitched into cloaks, gowns and belts. Bolts of precious fabrics and the document chests had been loaded on to the baggage cart and were being closely guarded. She had hidden more coins and gems in the cavities of her children’s toy boxes. Little Will’s hobby horse had a hollow staff filled with silver coins, and she had stuffed the carved head with gems. Even Weazel’s new collar was woven from gold thread and studded with pearls and sapphires. The Abbot of Dene had agreed to store some items for her, and she had also buried a few hoards in places known only to her and Elias.
She had received news that William and his brothers had been forced into exile for the foreseeable future unless they agreed to abide by the Provisions of Oxford, which meant having their land and wealth removed anyway. They had included her inheritance in the order, deeming it part of William’s power base. All her assets were to be frozen and eked out to her in grudging increments for fear that if she had access to resources she would send them across the sea to William to help him buy mercenaries.
Iohan entered the room wearing his cloak and hood. ‘Everyone’s ready, Mama.’ He gazed at her with William’s eyes, grey-hazel and keen.
‘Yes, I am coming.’ She returned his look. ‘Be very careful what you say when we get to court. Think before you speak and do not believe what anyone tells you, but bring it to me first.’
He gave her a responsible nod. ‘Yes, Mama.’
‘I do not wish to set this burden on your shoulders but I must. And you must help Agnes to understand too. You are the man of the house either until your father returns or until we can go to him.’
