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what’re you going to do? This leaching away of our villeins must be halted or we’ll be ruined.”
    “It’s difficult, of course,” said Simon soothingly.
    “The chief warden asked me to come and talk it through with you. But you understand the difficulties. Your villein’s now a miner, a stanner, and—”
    “We know all that! The question is, what’re you going to do to get him back? If the Manor can’t produce food, we’ll have no money: we’ll be unable to pay our taxes. Mark my words, if this miserable cur gets away with his disloyalty, others will soon follow his example.”
    “Yes, but the stanners have ancient rights—” Simon sighed as he was interrupted again.
    “You don’t need to tell me of them! I was born here, I know about the stannary privileges. This isn’t the same. Peter Bruther’s no tinner. He’s not digging for peat or tinning. He’s just sitting in his new cottage and enjoying doing nothing. Don’t take my word for it, go and see for yourself!”
    Speaking patiently, Simon said, “Even if I did, what good would it do? It makes no difference whether I see him lazing around or not. As far as the law’s concerned, he’s no longer your responsibility now, so…”
    “None of our responsibility?” The boy’s voice rose to a shout. “He’s our villein, and the law’s allowing him to run away! Just to satisfy a few thugs on the moors…”
    “And the King,” Baldwin interjected mildly.
    Sir Robert shot him a glance of loathing. His voice shook with contempt as he sneered: “The King? That runt! What—”
    “Be silent, Robert.” His father leaned forward at last, resting his elbows on the table. Like others Baldwin had known with wounded cheeks, the old knight had a slight lisp as if his tongue was damaged. He looked tired, and Baldwin was sure that it was not his idea to send to the chief warden for help. “Now, bailiff, you know my son is right. Something has to be done; I cannot allow my villeins to fade from my lands. What will the position of the chief warden be if I go and fetch this man Bruther back?”
    “You mustn’t,” Simon said bluntly. “If you do, the miners will be within their rights to prevent you, and the chief warden doesn’t want a fight.”
    “You will do nothing to help us, then?”
    Simon held up his hands in a gesture of despondency. “What do you want me to say, sir? Do you want me to lie? To promise something you know I can’t offer? I’ve got no massive force to call on, I’m merely the King’s man here—and I can’t sanction any breaking of the law. Bruther has the law on his side. If you try to get him back, I must tell you I’ll have to support the miners if they want to stop you. But you already know that. Look—if you wish, I can try to lend some support to your plight by writing…”
    “So, after many years of looking after the King’s interests, I must now accept the loss of my principal wealth, is that it?”
    “This man has gone. Forget him. He’s effectively a free man now, owning his own land for mining.”
    “Bailiff.” Sir Robert Beauscyr leaned forward, and his voice hissed as he spoke. “As far as I’m concerned, that man’s still our villein, and our villeins own nothing! They’ve use of some of our property while we let them, and that’s all. If they own anything, it’s their bellies and their hunger. Nothing else.”
    “Sir William.” Simon ignored his son’s outburst.
    “There’s nothing I can say will change the facts.”
    “No, there isn’t, is there?” said Sir Robert, and rising suddenly so that his chair slammed over, he glared at Simon. “But I’m not prepared to see my inheritance fail because of the stupidity of the law—and its officials! If you’ll not help us, we must sort out the issue ourselves!” And he swept from the room before Simon could answer.
    For a moment, all three were silent. Baldwin’s eyes were on the curtain, still fluttering after Sir Robert’s angry