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leaning, looking up into his eyes.
    Wolf was a handsome animal. He was heavy-boned, and black all over, apart from delightful tan colouring at his eyebrows, cheeks
     and ankles, with a white muzzle, paws and tip to the tail. And a large white cross on his breast. He panted all the while,
     as though it was ridiculously hot in the sun. Still a little anxious, he preferred to be with Baldwin at every moment. It
     was irritating to Jeanne on occasion, but Baldwin had always been a lover of hounds and large dogs of all types.He had acquired Wolf only a few weeks ago, from the Bishop of Orange, and felt honoured that the brute was so affectionate
     to him in such a short while.
    As he thought this, his eyes rose to the distant view again.
    ‘Husband, you are too pensive.’
    He smiled and nodded as Jeanne, his wife, joined him. From here there was a patch of grass that led to the Tiverton Road.
     It was a small pasture for feeding goats and occasional travellers’ horses, but Baldwin always enjoyed standing just here,
     in front of his door, because there was a fair view over the road. It was easier to see people approaching.
    ‘Are you worried about something?’ she said gently.
    ‘Your soft words show better than anything how well you understand me,’ he said with a dry grin, his fingers playing at the
     hair on Wolf’s head.
    It was easy to be happy in her company, he reflected. Jeanne was a tall, slim woman with red-gold hair, and a face that had
     none of the merits of classical beauty. Her nose was tip-tilted, her mouth over-wide, with a large upper lip. And yet it was
     the total of the imperfections that he thought made her unimaginably lovely. Added to her looks, she had a brain which was
     sharp and astute.
    ‘Is it the King?’
    He sighed. There was no concealing his fears with his wife, no matter how dangerous it might be to allow his concerns to become
     more widely known. ‘Yes. I do not know what I should do.’
    ‘What is the need to worry about it at this time?’
    ‘In case I have a man demand that I support him now. This has been brewing for many years. Our Lord, Hugh de Courtenay, has
     been a keen supporter of the King most of the time – but when Piers Gaveston was being hunted down in the land, it was Sir
     Hugh who went to try to capture him. Whenthere have been troubles, and the Good Lord knows how often there have been in this unhappy reign, the baron has been at the
     forefront of the forces trying to hold the King to account.’
    ‘You are worried that he may not support the King?’ Jeanne said quietly.
    ‘It would not surprise me. And would that mean that he would demand my loyalty to him personally?’
    ‘What would you do if he did?’
    ‘I could do little. I have made my oath to Sir Hugh and his family. But I do have a higher debt of honour to the King, surely?’
    ‘I am sure you will find a balance, my husband.’
    ‘I wish I were so sure as you,’ Baldwin smiled. Then, at the sound of a short scream from inside the house, he spun round
     and winced. ‘I think your son wants you again!’
    ‘He can wait,’ Jeanne said with uncharacteristic sharpness. ‘What of Despenser?’
    ‘He has no oath from me,’ Baldwin said shortly. ‘The man is vile. If his mother were to swallow a gold coin, he would dismember
     her to seek it.’
    ‘Baldwin! That’s a terrible thing to say!’ Jeanne laughed.
    He did not join her. He had not been joking. ‘I seek only to avoid any confrontation with him.’
    ‘I think that is sensible.’
    ‘Yes,’ Baldwin said, and his eyes rose to the view again. There was no one on the road, he saw.
    That was good. Because there was one man he did not wish to be called to see: the Bishop of Exeter, Walter Stapledon.

Chapter Three
    Westminster, Thorney Island
    Sir Hugh le Despenser was in his small chamber when his clerk found the single sheet of parchment in among the pile of correspondence.
    ‘My Lord?’
    ‘What is it?’
    ‘You have apparently