The Death of a King

accepted by all sections of society. Stephen simply looked at me for a while and then gently reminded me of his mission to the Papacy at Avignon: He told me that he had information and proof which would bring down Isabella, her son and Mortimer with the greatest of ease. When I pressed him further on this, he simply gave me that strange slight smile and told me to reserve my strength for the journey and the struggle.
    I began to wonder what madcap scheme I had so quickly allowed myself to become embroiled in, but I never regretted it. I enjoyed the freedom, the sense of purpose, the military talk of my companions and the desire to achieve something before I died. I reasoned that if I succeeded, then a source of power would be open to us, and if we failed then, remembering Edward as I saw him in Oxford, we had died attempting to achieve something memorable and outstanding. This thought comforted and reassured me.
    On 21 September, 1327, the Dunheved brothers and the rest of their companions assembled in the forest outside the village of Bardby. None of our companions had been captured, which seemed to prove the Dunheveds’ belief that the search parties organized by Mortimer had now been called off because of the Scottish campaign in the north. There were wagons at our meeting points full of arms of every description, helmets, breastplates, jackets and leggings of boiled leather, chain-mail, axes, grappling-irons which must have been taken from fighting ships, as well as bows, crossbows and bundles of long ash-made arrows. When I saw this armoury I realized that the Dunheveds and the captive Edward must still have friends in powerful positions.
    On the evening of the same day we moved to Berkeley. The Dunheveds made us go in groups and keep to the forest. We were anxious to avoid any mounted patrols from the castle, yet we encountered none. It was dark by the time we reached the assembly point. Thomas Dunheved divided us into two groups, one would stay with him (I was included) while the other group would go with Stephen. Apart from the two Dunheveds, none of us knew how this second group was to enter Berkeley. We were informed that it was by a secret route, but not given any further description. Thomas was to wait for fire arrows to come from the castle before moving his group up to the walls. Thomas and Stephen drew away from us all, exchanged whispered comments, clasped each other closely and then Stephen called softly to his group and disappeared into the darkness. We whispered our farewells and then crouched quietly listening to the lonely hoot of a hunting owl and the soft crackle of undergrowth as the night life of the forest went hunting or was hunted.
    Eventually, Thomas whispered his instructions, and we moved forward as soundlessly as possible. Despite the cool of the night, I found myself sweating, tense, clutching the sword and shield I carried so tightly that the steel rubbed my hand raw. I was terrified and yet exhilarated. The fact that we were now moving intensified the urge to break and run, to be free of that hot crouching line of men following each other into the darkness. A slight rain had fallen earlier in the evening, turning the fallen leaves and bracken into a damp covering underfoot. Once I slipped and fell, the man behind me cursed as I flailed out with the shield strapped to my arm, and for a moment I felt like lying there, my hot face pressed against the cool dark earth. I arose and moved on, conscious only of my thudding heart my sweating body and the figure moving ahead of me. Just when I thought I would be unable to continue, a whispered order told us to stop. I immediately dropped both my sword and shield and lay down. Above me, through the interlaced leaves and branches of the forest I could see the stars as the autumn rain clouds broke up under the quickening breeze. I realized that I was still a peasant’s son, anxious about the weather, the clouds and the winds. The next moment I was asleep only to be wakened by Dunheved, who hoarsely whispered me forward. I took my arms and moved up with the rest.
    We had reached the edge of the forest. The moon, much to Dunheved’s concern, had broken clear out of the clouds, revealing how the ground dropped away to flat marshlands which surrounded the dark mass of Berkeley Castle. My heart sank as I looked at the tall walls, high towers and sealed drawbridge, so distinct in the light of the autumn moon. I wondered how we could cover the