‘So you went down to Westminster?’

‘Took ship out of Hedon on the Humber.’

‘Quickest way, barring sudden weather, but we were blessed by good fortune, us. We got there in short time. Things were looking good.’

‘We were met at Three Cranes quay by some men-at-arms who knew the same fella who’d brought us down. Then we were being lauded in the City. Best Rhenish. Good lodgings. Nothing too much trouble.’

‘Met them city guildsmen. Mayor Brembre was one. “Lads,” he said, “I want you to know we are all King Richard’s men here and there’s something afoot and you might be the lads to help us.” Then he explained.’

‘After, he says, “Name your price.”’

‘So we did.’

‘So what did he explain to you?’

‘That he wanted us to go on a special mission to Prague to do some work for the Emperor. Hush-hush, like.’

Hildegard considered they knew more by another of their complicit looks but it was clear they were going to go no further by the way they both clamped their mouths shut. She tried a shot in the dark, based on the merest whisper of something she had heard in Westminster last autumn. ‘Tyndale,’ she said, ‘where you come from, Jack. I believe there’s a rumour they found silver there. It is a silver mine, is it not?’

His glance dropped to the floor. ‘So what of it?’ He raised his head. ‘To be honest, domina, it’s not much of one. You might already have heard that it’s on the verge of being mined out.’

‘So you were being asked to transfer yourselves to the silver mines in Bohemia at Kutna Hora, famous for the silver ore they produce.’ It wasn’t a question and they did not treat it as such.

John merely murmured, ‘I see we understand each other.’

‘That explains Prague,’ she replied. ‘It does not in any way explain Avignon.’

**

Peter adopted a fighting stance. ‘You won’t believe this next bit, domina. After we’d been feasted and feted we were given instructions to report to the Steel Yard to pick up a Hansa ship into the Baltic.’

‘Best way over to Prague, cutting out the duke of Burgundy and all his cursed armies.’

‘But before we could get near the gates a fella rides up to us, ermine, plume in his cap, a couple of armed guards riding beside him, a convincing type, looked just like one of them guildsmen we’d met. “My good men,” says he, “our plans are askew. You must now take ship to Calais instead. Welcome on board.” He points to a neat looking cog at the dock side.’

‘Then he showed us letters of safe passage with our names on them.’ John looked a tad sheepish and Hildegard wondered how much he could read, if at all. It would not be impossible to do the job he did and be to all intents illiterate. She did not pursue the matter but merely nodded with understanding. ‘So you went on board?’

‘We did. How could we know it was a trick? It was only when the lines were cast off that we began to feel something was up. The crew, for a start, not an Englishman among them. We assumed they were Bohemians until we picked out a few words that were definitely a sort of French.’

‘Nobody spoke to us. Nobody looked us in the eye.’

‘We were treated all right. Vitteled, given plenty of good strong wine. Slept. It was when we came into harbour just before the anchor went down, a group of ruffians surrounded us - ’

‘And forced us to go ashore in barrels. Big ones. Not your usual ale tuns.’

‘We thought it was to avoid customs. Fair enough.’

‘Like washing barrels they were,’ Peter explained in outraged tones. ‘I could stand up in mine.’

‘And then it was onto carts and the journey began. Every so often the lid would be opened and food shoved inside with flagons of ale to follow.’

‘Pittle water it was, not like our stuff.’

‘But better than nowt.’

‘And then you arrived here and were let out of your barrels and took it for granted you were in Prague?’

‘You'll be thinking we’re a couple of sotwits but I tell you, domina, we were held in darkness and lost count of the days and nights, couldn’t tell them apart, nobody spoke to us in English, we had no way of knowing where we were. Or whether we’d get out alive,’ Jack gave a grimace.

‘We were blindfolded and let out to piss now and then. Didn’t even see each other until we got here.’

‘By, I don’t mind saying this but I was right glad to see his ugly mug gawping at me when they let me out.’ Jack cuffed Peter on the shoulder. ‘A right mess you’ve got us into, Beckwith.’

‘Me? I like that! Who said it was a good idea from the first? Make our fortunes in one fell swoop, you said.’

Hildegard listened to them bickering amiably then she asked what they hoped to do next.

‘Get back to England as quick as we can. Sod Bohemia.’

Peter gave their prison a miserable glance. He held up his wrists in their manacles. ‘They’re not going to let us go without a fight, are they?’

Unsure how she could help them or what other ramifications would have to be taken into consideration Hildegard tried to rally their spirits. ‘Given that you arrived in barrels I’m sure you won’t object if you have to leave by the same means?’

‘We are in your hands, domina. You’re our only hope and saviour.’

**

The questions Hildegard had not asked them was who had brought them here and why. Were there hopes that silver deposits would be found among the marshes of the Provencale coastline? What little she knew of such matters did not suggest the likelihood of that. So why here?

If their meeting had not been cut short by the guard, who deemed that their prisoners had been prayed over long enough, she would have gone on to ask them. But she had to leave in a hurry, with time only to tell the guards that she would regard it an honour to be allowed to return and offer her services to the English prisoners again.

‘Fine by me, domina. That’s your job. So long as you let us do ours.’

If the question why the miners had been brought here was unclear, the question of who had abducted them was not.

**

Athanasius was still sipping his evil-smelling concoction of herbs against his fever when Hildegard entered his cell. He was not alone. The cardinal who had visited the pope’s treasury with them was sitting expansively on the only bench. His face was a perfect picture of grief and she caught the end of a phrase, something like, ‘and to see him nevermore…’

He rose to his feet in a disarray of brocade and velvet, great bell sleeves billowing as he returned her greeting and at once offered her his place. ‘I’ll perch on the end of the magister’s bed, if I may.’

He settled himself inside his robes with a rheumatic sigh.

‘Well, domina?’ Athanasius croaked through the fumes. ‘What news?’

‘I followed your suggestion.’ She gave a hasty glance at the cardinal.

‘Cardinal Grizac has no interest in our affairs,’ cut in Athanasius as he read her meaning. ‘I take it you want to tell me something about the two dolts?’

‘You’re harsh, magister. They’re skilled in their own craft by the sound of it, their expertise being the chief cause of their current plight which is not unconnected to a pair of barrels and a group of well-armed militia.’

‘They wish to be conveyed elsewhere?’

‘Home. As quickly as possible.’

‘Transportation often puts a strain on the resources at Avignon,’ he replied cryptically.

‘Indeed?’

‘This is a fortress. Yet every day many barrels convey goods in as well as out.’ He sighed and sipped more of the concoction. ‘I would not, however, advocate any interference in this matter. Clearly Sir John Fitzjohn intends them as a gift for our Holy Father.’

‘But against their will, magister?’

‘Pope Clement moves in a mysterious way, domina, ever watchful for our best interests.’

He couldn’t have sounded more like an out and out Clementist and she wondered if it was a show to appease the cardinal, Clement’s man.