by J G Lewis
Ela blinked. “That would be kind.” His desire to see her delivered immediately from London disturbed her, but she was itching to take Edyth home and this did provide the means. Bill would indeed be well cared for here, and she could return to her own children, at least for a time. “Are you sure you can spare them?”
“For you, my lady, it is a pleasure. Your bravery and fortitude in the face of evil is a tonic to us all.”
A dangerous pride flared in Ela’s chest. But something nagged at her. “Why did the girl suddenly appear on our doorstep?”
“No doubt the criminals sensed our hounds closing in and chose to let the little bird escape their snare.”
“If they did this in the hope that you and I would abandon our efforts to find and catch them, I do hope they won’t be satisfied.”
“Indeed not, my lady. My men will not rest until the perpetrators are in custody.” His self-satisfied expression irked her. She couldn’t help but wonder if he hadn’t come to some kind of mutually satisfactory arrangement with the child smugglers. But accusing him of such would achieve nothing.
“I’m glad to hear that. I look forward to seeing them tried for their crimes. I will gladly bring young Edyth back to London to testify against them.”
“I’m sure it won’t be necessary to frighten the child by having her meet her captors again. There will be other witnesses.”
Ela could feel his impatience to be rid of her. Naturally it made her want to stay. But was that really the most sensible course? She knew it wasn’t.
“I thank you for your work in retrieving my jewels. I truly had no hope of their recovery so it’s a most pleasant surprise.”
Le Duc bowed and pleasure shone in his eyes. “Delighted to be of service, my lady.”
“Will you join us to break your fast?” She knew her mother would be scandalized if she didn’t offer.
“I thank you for the kind offer, my lady, but duty calls. There were three murders committed last night that my men are already looking into.” This was his sly way of explaining how the child-abduction ring would slide to the bottom of his list of things to investigate.
“God speed in finding the killers.” She didn’t want him to think he could entirely dismiss her from his thoughts. “Until we meet again.”
“God willing, my lady.” He took his leave with another bow and a volley of orders to his men. Four men on fine coursers remained to escort Ela, and Ela sent Hilda to inform Cook to provide them with sustenance for the journey.
It didn’t take long to pack for the return journey. Hilda was in high spirits. She hurried about the household, sending messages to the cook and the stables and folding and packing Ela’s belongings.
Alianore seemed relieved that Ela was headed home. She promised to remain in London to oversee the care of Bill and the other two injured men.
By midday they were on the road. Little Edyth sat in silence, easily startled by any noise or movement. Hilda sat next to her, at first quietly, just soothing her with occasional reassurances that she was on her way home. As the journey wore on, Hilda told Edyth stories and sang her songs. Ela felt a wonderful sense of happiness at the sight of the two young girls, both brought so close to death and destruction, now on the path to enjoying the rest of their lives in peace and safety.
Ela did not enjoy the restless night spent in rooms above a noisy inn—a necessity due to the length of the journey and the need to rest the horses—and they set out at dawn the next day. She didn’t want to delay Edyth’s return to her parents by one single moment.
As they grew closer to Salisbury, Edyth started to come out of her shell and smile and laugh more like a normal eight-year-old. She told them about her pet rabbit called Annie, who was white with black spots and liked to eat dandelions that Edyth picked on the roadside for her. Edyth also had a favorite rooster, George, who liked to dance in circles around her, strutting and fluffing his feathers. Hilda told her that soon George would be dancing with happiness to see her home again.
Instead of returning to Gomeldon and sending Edyth on, Ela headed straight to New Salisbury from the London road, so she could deliver Edyth to her family. Edyth and Hilda eagerly leaned out the window as they turned the corner onto the Fugglestone Road, where the small cottage would come into view above the hedgerows.
Except that it wasn’t there.
The thatched roof didn’t rise above the hedgerows where it should have. As they drew closer, Ela’s breath stuck at the bottom of her lungs. The entire cottage and its fencing and outbuildings had all been burned to the ground.
Chapter 11
“Saints preserve us,” murmured Ela, crossing herself as they drew up in front of the destroyed cottage.
“Mama!” Edyth’s mournful wail pierced the air. “Mama!”
Hilda grabbed the girl and hugged her close, but Edyth fought and kicked. “Mama! Papa!”
Ela climbed down from the carriage, stunned and breathless at the horrible sight. The blackened remains of the house’s wood frame no longer smoldered—all was damp with recent rain—but the acrid smell of scorched timber rose to sting her nostrils.
Nausea gripped her gut. There were no chickens or Edyth’s pet rabbit. Everything they’d cajoled and soothed Edyth with on her journey home was gone.
And where were her mother and father? Had they perished in the fire? Ela’s brain rang with questions. Was the fire deliberately set by cruel neighbors? Or was it an accident? Thatch could catch alight from lightning, especially at this dry time of year. Were Alys and John Wheaton home at the time, and if so, had they managed to escape?
It seemed too much to hope for.
Many footprints had ground the ashes and debris into mud. Coroner Giles Haughton must have been here in the aftermath. She’d ask him what happened.
Ela prayed fervently, eyes closed for a moment, that Edyth’s parents had been spared. For the girl to survive her ordeal at the hands of evil strangers only to return to find her family gone seemed cruel beyond belief.
She turned back to the carriage. “To the castle, at once.”
Her weary driver and horses and the sheriff’s men were all no doubt desperate to rest after the long journey from London, but they didn’t complain.
Edyth screamed and cried and pummeled poor Hilda, who tried to bundle her back into the carriage. Ela had no idea what to say to the girl. What assurance could she give that wouldn’t turn out to be a lie? She’d promised her all day that she’d soon be safe home in her mother’s arms, and now this.
Dusk darkened the landscape as they arrived at the castle, and they’d been on the road since dawn. Ela’s entire body ached from sitting stiffly, braced against the roughness of the road. But energy surged through her, fueled by fear and dread and painful shards of hope.
Edyth had stopped screaming and now sat mute and pale, her face streaked with tears. Hilda’s shoulders shook with sobs that she tried her best to suppress. She’d been through enough, and Ela had watched her put her heart into cheering and soothing Edyth only to see her devastated and bereft.
Castle servants helped Ela down from the carriage and greeted her so warmly that she felt bad telling them they’d come on urgent business. She hurried into the great hall, where the household was sitting down to their evening meal.
Sheriff de Hal rose from his seat, visibly annoyed to be disturbed at his dinner. He didn’t move toward Ela but waited for her to approach. With a bare minimum of pleasantries, she announced that she’d brought Edyth back from London but found her house destroyed by fire.
“Ah, yes. It happened almost a week ago. The blaze raged fierce and all-consuming.”
Ela glanced back to where Edyth stood silent, holding Hilda’s hand.
“The girl’s parents—” She spoke softly. “Did they perish?”
“They did not. They were at this castle at the time of the fire, causing a public disturbance.”
Ela’s knees almost buckled with relief. “Where are they now?”
“Why? What have they done?”
“Inflamed the people of Salisbury to near madness,” he muttered. “They abandoned the religious life to live in sin. I’ve heard far too much about them, and I’ll be glad to never lay eyes on them again.” He glanced at the large platter of roasted pig with nut and apple stuffing that steamed aromatically on the table in front of him. “Your party is welcome to join us for dinner.”
Ela had never heard a less welcoming invitation. She felt fairly sure that if he could have banished them all from Wiltshire, he’d have done it. “I thank you, but no, we must return to Gomeldon.” Ela burned to know more and to speak with Giles Haughton, but since he didn’t appear to be at the castle, that would have to wait until tomorrow.
She contemplated apologizing for the interruption but decided against it. “God go with you, my lord sheriff.” The words tasted bitter in her mouth. Simon de Hal cared nothing for justice and only for the perks of the job. She prayed for the day when he’d pack his chests and leave this castle. She’d be glad to smack his horse on the rump on the way out.
Ela turned to her weary little party. “Your mother and father are alive, Edyth!” She tried to raise some enthusiasm as the girl looked ready to faint from sorrow and exhaustion. “Tonight we must return to Gomeldon, but tomorrow we shall set out to find them.”
“Mama, we were so worried about you!” Ela’s children swarmed the door of her manor house at Gomeldon as soon as the carriage pulled up.
“Why? I wrote to you every morning.”
“But your first letter only just arrived,” protested Richard. “And you didn’t say when you’d be coming home.”
“We’ve brought Edyth back with us, safe and sound,” said Ela with all the mock cheer she could muster. “And tomorrow we’ll find her parents. Tonight, please welcome her and include her in your games. Stephen, please ask Cook to prepare us a meal at once.”
They ate and Petronella and Ellie tried to excite Edyth by introducing her to the dogs and letting her hold Ellie’s favorite wool-stuffed dolly, but the girl would barely touch her food and drink and wouldn’t talk at all.
Finally, Ela asked Hilda if she’d mind taking Edyth to bed with her. Hilda, clearly exhausted, gladly agreed and took the girl up to her room.
A kitchen maid called Mary was pressed into service to help Ela undress and ready herself for bed. Unlike Hilda, the girl was quiet to the point of sullenness—probably nervous—and fumbled so with removing her barbette and fillet that Ela worried she’d stick her in the head with a pin.
When the girl finally finished, Ela fell gratefully on her knees at her prie-dieu and thanked God for the strength to say a full rosary before she climbed between her cool sheets.
In the morning Ela felt so sore and stiff from sitting cramped in the carriage for two whole days that she sorely wished she could summon Giles Haughton to the comfort of her parlor. But she wasn’t sheriff and no one was dead, so she’d have to ride to him herself and pay a social call.
Edyth’s eyes shone red with weeping, and Hilda looked like she hadn’t slept a wink either. Not good in her condition. Ela prayed they’d find the girl’s parents quickly and that they’d have somewhere safe to live. Preferably somewhere friendlier than Salisbury had been to them.
Then she scolded herself for being as unfeeling as Sheriff de Hal. Did she expect unpopular people to remove themselves from the county so as not to inconvenience her? It was hardly their fault that their neighbors had taken against them.
Then again maybe it was their fault. Why would anyone leave the peace and joy of the religious life for the tumult of the secular world? She’d heard of bishops and priests having children with local women and even raising their children with a degree of respectability. It wasn’t even rare. Men were sadly vulnerable to the pleasures of the flesh. But she’d never personally known of a nun daring to leave the cloister.
No doubt Alys had been tempted down the same thorny path as Hilda—coaxed and cajoled into trading her innocence and purity for a man’s brief, sweaty pleasure. Not that Ela hadn’t enjoyed intimacy with her husband. Their embraces and caresses had sometimes stirred almost feverish desire. But she couldn’t imagine abandoning propriety and decorum—throwing away her whole life—for a few moments of passing passion.
Ela found herself grumpy and disconsolate on her morning rounds, which wasn’t like her at all. She chastised herself for ingratitude. The Lord has delivered Edyth into your hands. Better still, the girl did not seem to have been raped or otherwise physically mistreated, though admittedly Ela hadn’t dared to quiz her about that. No doubt such abuse would reduce her value on the black market in babes that these foul villains operated, which might be the only reason she’d been spared thus far.
Ela tasked Hilda with distracting Edyth while she rode back to the castle mound to find Giles Haughton and find out what he knew about the fire and the Wheatons’ whereabouts.
The sheriff’s men had set off back to London after a night’s rest, so Ela took two of her own guards with her. The drizzly and disconsolate morning matched her mood. She arrived in Salisbury damp and anxious and her horse, Freya—who’d apparently sat in the stable unridden while she was away—proved every bit as nervy and jumpy as Ela herself.
Ela had a guard dismount his horse and knock on the coroner’s door, in case he was abroad at the castle—or the Bull and Bear—but his wife answered and called to him in a flurry of excitement.
Ela greeted Mistress Haughton and let the servant take her damp cloak to hang by the kitchen fire. She accepted a cup of wine and made small talk about the weather and how busy London was. Haughton’s wife was a well-preserved woman a few years older than herself who clearly enjoyed company. She could hear the coroner moving about upstairs, probably getting dressed.
When he finally came down, his wife seemed in no rush to leave them and kept making conversation about trivial matters. Eventually Ela cleared her throat. “I brought Edyth Wheaton back to Salisbury last night and found her family burned out and driven away.”
“The girl is safe?” He looked astonished.
“No thanks to the relevant authorities. Do excuse my bluntness, Mistress Haughton. It seems her captors released her in order to see me leave London as quickly as possible.”
“We received news that you and Bill Talbot were set upon and that he was badly wounded. God be praised that you are unharmed.”
“Indeed the praise lies with Him and not with the sheriff of London, who seemed little interested in the trade in children happening right beneath his nose. I think Sheriff le Duc was as happy to see me leave as the perpetrators, who are no doubt still going about their repulsive business.” She could see she’d scandalized them with her frankness, but she was in no mood to prevaricate.
And there was now more urgent business. “Where are Edyth’s parents? I promised her all day yesterday that she’d spend the night in their arms. To find their whole house destroyed was a blow that almost felled the poor girl.”
“I suggested they seek alms in the priory at Wilton. Once it was determined that no one had died, the sheriff told me to waste no more time on the matter.”
“What happened to their livestock?” Ela couldn’t help thinking of Edyth’s pet rabbit and rooster which she’d talked so fondly of.
“Probably stolen by the townsfolk in the commotion. There wasn’t so much as a stray hen when I arrived.”
Ela sighed. This lawlessness apparently proceeded unpunished under the sheriff’s gaze. “Who put out the fire?”
“The rain, I’d imagine. I gather that none of the townspeople would lift a finger to help the Wheatons. I can hardly picture them carrying buckets from the stream for them.”
“Do these people not understand the principles of Christian charity?” Ela resolved to speak to the bishop a
bout the need for a sermon on the subject. “It’s their duty to help the needy, whether they approve of them or not.”
Giles Haughton lifted his hands in despair. His wife had bustled away out of sight. “Unfortunately, I have no idea who started the fire. The husband and wife were at the castle pleading for help in finding their daughter when it happened.”
“Were there witnesses?”
“No doubt,” he sighed. “The persons who started the fire. But they’d hardly admit to it.”
“And de Hal seems happy that the Wheatons are driven from their home and no longer a tiresome bother to him.”
“Indeed.” Haughton glanced over his shoulder as if to reassure himself that his wife was out of earshot. Then he spoke low. “I’ve heard some disturbing rumors about Sheriff de Hal.” He hesitated.
“What?” Ela leaned in, ears burning with curiosity. Haughton spoke so low she could barely hear him.
“There were apparently complaints lodged against him while he was sheriff at York. He became very unpopular with the local businessmen and eventually he was removed from the office.”
“Removed from that office and installed here at Salisbury.” After she’d made her wish to be sheriff plain as day to the king himself and everyone else within earshot. Ire burned in her gut. “Well, this is interesting news that bears some reflection and research. But in the meantime, I must find Edyth’s parents. I shall send two men to the monastery in search of them.”
“I’m afraid I don’t know if they would have even been received there or turned out on the road again.”
“Surely the monks have at least a shred of Christian charity in their hearts?” It was a rhetorical question, and Giles Haughton simply lifted his hands in reply.
“I’d imagine you’d be well within your rights to deposit Edyth at the castle and leave it up to the sheriff’s men to find her parents,” he suggested.