Page 313 of A Column of Fire


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‘The nobility keep the peace and enforce the rules,’ she argued. ‘You can’t do business without laws and standards. How much silver is there in a penny? How wide is a yard of cloth? What happens when men don’t pay their debts?’

‘They make the rules to suit themselves,’ said Jack. ‘Anyway, the Kingsbridge Guild enforces weights and measures, not the earl.’

She smiled. ‘Perhaps you should be a statesman, like Sir Ned, rather than an adventurer.’

‘Why?’

‘You have such strong ideas about government. You couldbethe Government. Some of the most powerful men at court used to be clever schoolboys like you.’

He looked thoughtful. He was at the delightful age where anything seemed possible.

But she wanted him to behave himself at New Castle. ‘Be polite,’ she said as they approached. ‘Don’t argue with Uncle Bartlet. You’re here to make friends, not enemies.’

‘Very well, grandmother.’

She was not sure he had taken her warning to heart, but she had done her best. A child will always be what he is, she thought, and not what you want him to be.

Her son, Earl Bartlet, welcomed them. In his forties now, he was freckled like Margery’s father, but he had modelled himself on Bart, who, he thought, was his father. The fact that Bartlet was in truth the result of rape by Earl Swithin had not completely poisoned the relationship between mother and son, miraculously. While Jack explored the castle, Margery sat in the hall with Bartlet and drank a glass of wine. She said: ‘I hope Swifty and Jack get to know one another better.’

‘I doubt they’ll be close,’ said Bartlet. ‘There’s a big age gap between twelve and twenty.’

‘I bumped into your Uncle Rollo in London. He’s staying in a tavern. I don’t know why he doesn’t use Shiring House.’

Bartlet shrugged. ‘I’d be delighted if he would. Make my lazy caretaker do some work for a change.’

A steward poured Margery more wine. ‘You’ll be heading up to London yourself later this year, for the opening of Parliament.’

‘Not necessarily.’

Margery was surprised. ‘Why not?’

‘I’ll say I’m ill.’ All earls were obliged to attend Parliament, and if they wanted to get out of it, they had to say they were too ill to travel.

‘But what’s the real reason?’

‘I’ve got too much to do here.’

That did not make sense to Margery. ‘You’ve never missed a Parliament, since you became earl. Nor did your father and grandfather. It’s the reason you have a house in London.’

‘The new king has no interest in the views of the earl of Shiring.’

This was uncharacteristic. Bartlet, like Bart and Swithin, would normally voice his opinion – loudly – without asking whether anyone cared to hear it. ‘Don’t you want to oppose any further anti-Catholic legislation?’

‘I think we’ve lost that battle.’

‘I’ve never known you to be so defeatist.’

‘It’s important to know when to fight on – and when to stop.’ Bartlet stood up. ‘You probably want to settle into your room before dinner. Have you got everything you need?’

‘Yes, I think so.’ She kissed him and went upstairs. She was intrigued. Maybe he was not like Bart and Swithin after all. Their pride would never have allowed them to say things likeI think we’ve lost that battle.They would never admit that they might have been in the wrong.

Perhaps Bartlet was growing up.

*

THE MOST DIFFICULTand dangerous part of Rollo’s plan came when he had to buy thirty-six barrels of gunpowder and bring them to Westminster.

With two of his younger conspirators he crossed the river and walked to Rotherhithe, a neighbourhood of docks and shipyards. There they went to a stable and told an ostler that they wanted to rent a sturdy flatbed cart and two horses to pull it. ‘We have to pick up a load of timbers from a demolished old ship,’ Rollo said. ‘I’m going to use them to build a barn.’ Ships’ timbers were often recycled this way.