by S. D. Sykes
She gave a short laugh. ‘Wait until you’ve talked to them, Oswald,’ she replied. ‘Then you’ll see what I mean. The women of this village are very good at inventing stories.’ She patted the crucifix. ‘This will remind them to tell the truth.’
Chapter Fifteen
Johanna soon returned with a group of about fifteen women and girls, who filed into the hall and stared upwards to the roof trusses as if they had just entered the nave of York Minster. I was struck immediately by their height, or lack of it. In this village, more than any other I had ever visited, a person’s size seemed to depend upon their wealth. In their brown and grey dresses they looked like a flock of hedge sparrows, whilst Maud moved amongst them, standing out like a colourful jay.
Once the women had dispensed with their wonder at this house, (a building which they had clearly never entered before), they gathered about their leader, Aldith Brewer, for safety. I noted that Aldith’s belly was now so low, that I feared she might go into labour before we finished our discussion. I looked about at the other women in this group and I must say that I was relieved not to find Beatrice Wheeler’s face among them.
‘So then,’ said Aldith, turning to Maud. ‘What’s this all about?’ She folded her arms over her bump. ‘We’re all busy, you know. We haven’t got time to sit around and chatter.’
This statement caused Maud to share a quick smile with me. The pressures on these women’s time had not been so great that they weren’t able to immediately accept this invitation. Clearly the mention of food had done its trick. ‘Brother Oswald would like to speak to you all,’ she said.
‘What about?’ replied Aldith. ‘Is it plague? Because we all know about the family in Fallowsden.’
I went to reply, but Maud held up her hand to stop me. ‘Please,’ she said, smiling about the room. ‘Take a seat along this table first, and let me offer you some bread and ale. Then we can talk.’
Aldith hesitated, not inclined to surrender immediately to Maud’s will, whereas her cohorts had accepted the invitation without a second thought. At the mention of food the other women had rushed to the table and were now eagerly waiting for the meal to be served. Realising that she had lost this small battle, Aldith pushed aside two women to ensure that she took the best place at the table – at the centre of the bench where she could see everybody’s faces.
‘So,’ Aldith announced, as if she had called this meeting herself. ‘Let’s eat first, and then we’ll see what Brother Oswald has to say.’ This declaration was met with a flurry of nods and small cheers, prompting Maud to glance at me again and share another amused smile.
As Johanna rushed from kitchen to table with a succession of loaves, wedges of hard cheese, bowls of green cheese and tall jugs of ale, the women eagerly filled their stomachs, as if they had never seen such a feast before. I waited until the laughter and the chattering had finally subsided and then I stood up, ready to speak. It was only then, as I looked down the table at the row of expectant faces, flushed after the excitement of their unexpected banquet, that I suddenly regretted having agreed to this meeting. For a moment, my nerve faltered, as I noticed a wave of furtive smirks and giggles hidden behind hands. One of the women even joked about trying to look under my habit.
Of course, I knew why I amused them. There’s something uniquely comical about a boy at that age – with his slender frame, smooth skin and pincushion of whiskers sprouting from a spotty chin. He is still a press-mould of a man, yet to be fired in the kiln.
Maud spotted my nervousness and gave me one of her encouraging smiles. ‘Thank you for coming,’ I managed to say, making an effort to look directly into their faces. ‘I wanted to ask you all some questions about the missing women.’
‘They’re not missing,’ said Aldith, chewing on a hunk of bread. ‘They’re dead.’
‘We don’t know that for certain, Aldith,’ came another voice. It belonged to a stout and muscular woman, who sported a pair of forearms that wouldn’t have looked amiss on a wrestler. I had sometimes seen this woman in the fields outside the village, directing a ploughing team of four oxen with a whip. ‘They could still be alive,’ she said. ‘I don’t think we should give up hope.’
‘Oh come on,’ replied Aldith, spooning some cheese into her mouth. ‘We spent days looking for each of them and we didn’t find a thing.’
‘I blame the manticore,’ said a woman who was missing the majority of her teeth.
‘The what?’ laughed Aldith, scornfully. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Maud bristle, as this was exactly the type of wild story she had feared.
The toothless woman was not deterred. ‘The manticore has the head of a man, the body of a lion and the tail of a scorpion,’ she explained. ‘It creeps up on a person and then stings them to death with its tail. I’ve seen it myself,’ she added. ‘Skulking in the woods. Looking for its dinner.’
‘When’s that, then?’ said Aldith. ‘After you’ve been in the tavern all day?’
This caused an outbreak of laughter that lasted until I loudly cleared my throat. ‘I believe that some of you spoke previously to Brother Merek?’ I said. ‘I know that he was also trying to find answers to this mystery.’
‘But he gave up, didn’t he?’ said Aldith, adding a sniff of contempt as she pulled a small piece of dough from her bread. ‘We haven’t seen him for weeks.’
‘That’s because Brother Merek is also missing,’ I replied.
Aldith put down the bread. ‘What? Is he dead as well, then?’
‘We don’t know,’ I answered truthfully, having to shout to make myself heard over the subsequent uproar. ‘But I believe that Merek discovered something important to his investigation by speaking to somebody in this room.’ The women stopped talking and glanced darkly at one another. ‘So please try to remember what you said to him.’
A girl at the end of the table spoke up. She had a small round face – the shape of a boiled pudding. ‘I told Brother Merek that I’m fed up with being trapped in this village. I don’t dare to go anywhere.’
‘It’s all right for you, Margaret Tucker,’ said the girl sitting opposite her. ‘You don’t have to go to the market on your own. If I stayed here, then my family would starve.’
‘I might not have to go to market,’ replied the pudding-faced girl. ‘But I still have to go into the forest by myself. To collect wood. Otherwise we’d never have a fire. So don’t go thinking that you’re the only one with troubles.’
Maud clapped her hands to break up this argument. ‘No woman should be going anywhere by herself,’ she announced. ‘It’s too dangerous.’
All heads turned to Maud. ‘That’s easier said than done,’ said Aldith sharply. ‘You’ve got a servant to do your bidding. None of us have that luxury.’
‘That’s true,’ Maud replied calmly, refusing to be riled by Aldith’s hostility. ‘I do enjoy that privilege. But I’m still afraid of being attacked, should I venture out alone.’
‘You needn’t worry,’ scoffed Aldith. ‘This man’s not going to pick on the likes of you, is he?’
‘Who’s to say that?’ snapped Maud, staring at Aldith until the younger woman looked away. ‘It seems to me that this man simply chooses victims who are travelling alone. If I were to wander into the woods without an escort, then I would also be in danger. I am no safer than you.’ Maud paused for a moment and took a deep breath to regain her composure. ‘All I’m saying is that we should organise ourselves to make this man’s life difficult,’ she contended. ‘Let us starve him of opportunity, until he is forced to leave us alone.’
‘And how will we do that?’ asked Aldith, crossing her arms sulkily.
‘Always find another woman to travel with,’ said Maud. ‘It’s the only way to protect ourselves. I doubt this man will ever pick on a pair of women.’
‘It’s not always possible to find a partner,’ argued Aldith, not ready to back down, though her constant antagonism was beginning to look childish and petulant. ‘You don’t know
what our lives are like,’ she said. ‘It’s not always easy to find another woman to do your bidding.’
‘Then come to me in that case,’ said Maud, looking up and down the table to make sure that she had everybody’s attention. ‘If you cannot find another companion, then I will accompany you myself.’
Maud’s declaration was met with stunned silence at first, for this was quite an offer. The daughters of rich yeoman farmers do not usually travel about the forests and paths of England with poor villeins and cottars as company. The women took a moment to digest Maud’s proposal, before they expressed their gratitude with cheers and clapping. Realising that she’d lost the argument, Aldith quickly claimed association, nay ownership, of Maud’s generous idea, by raising a toast to Mistress Woodstock as their friend and protector. Following this, Maud was thanked specifically for the ale and bread – which, of course, prompted her to call for more. Soon Johanna arrived with another jug of ale and two loaves of bread – though I noted it was barley bread and small beer this time, and there was definitely no cheese.
Now that the mood was congenial again, I returned to my questioning. ‘Please think back to your conversations with Brother Merek,’ I said. ‘I’m interested in anything. No matter how unimportant it might seem.’ When this question was met, yet again, with blank faces, I added, ‘Think carefully. There must be something you know. Something that could help me?’
I was about to give up, when a young girl spoke. I had hardly noticed her before, since she’d been squashed between two larger women, like a line of mortar daubed between two pillar stones.
‘My sister’s got something to say,’ she said, pushing her way past the bulk of her neighbours’ tunics and pointing to another girl on the other side of the table. ‘Haven’t you, Rose?’ Her sister was an equally thin creature who was perched on the end of the other bench like a newly fledged bird.
I leant forward to get a better look and realised it was Rose Brunham – the girl with salmon-coloured hair whom I’d met at Beatrice Wheeler’s house. I hadn’t recognised her before, since she was wearing a veil.
Rose scowled back across the table at her sister. ‘No, I haven’t,’ she hissed. ‘Shut up, Christina!’
‘Tell them about Jocelin’s bracelet,’ said Christina. ‘The one she was wearing when she disappeared. Explain why you’ve got it now.’
Aldith gasped. ‘Is this true, Rose?’ she said. ‘Have you got Jocelin’s bracelet?’
Rose dropped her eyes to her hands. ‘I was given it,’ she whispered, her shoulders sinking as she tried to disappear from view. ‘Nothing wrong with that.’
‘Who gave it to you?’ I asked.
‘Doesn’t matter.’
‘It was that Ranulf Sawyer,’ carped Christina. ‘The charcoal burner.’
The mention of this name caused another outcry. ‘What’s Sawyer doing back here?’ groaned Aldith. ‘I thought we’d seen him off a couple of years ago. He’s supposed to be in Epping forest.’
Christina shook her head. She was enjoying this moment of victory over her sister. ‘No. Sawyer’s back, isn’t he? ’Cause he’s in love with Rose.’ She turned on her sister. ‘I keep telling you to stay away from him, don’t I? But you won’t listen. Even though he’s a dirty pig.’
‘He’s a charcoal burner,’ spat Rose. ‘He’s only dirty ’cause of the soot.’
‘By the saints, Rose Brunham!’ said the woman with muscular arms. ‘Don’t say that you’re sweet on that man? You wait until I tell your mother about this. You’ll get a beating.’
Rose put her hands to her face as the other women scolded her, roundly attacking the girl for consorting with this supposed scoundrel. I tried to ask more questions about Ranulf Sawyer, but was unable to make myself heard above the cacophony this time, no matter how many times I tried to get everybody’s attention by clearing my throat.
It was Maud who finally restored order by picking up the crucifix from the centre of the table and brandishing it in Rose’s face. ‘You need to tell us the truth, Rose. On this holy cross. Why did Ranulf Sawyer give you Jocelin Baker’s bracelet?’
The girl rubbed tears from her eyes. ‘He found it,’ came the mumbled response.
‘Where did he find it?’
Rose cringed, the veil falling away slightly to reveal a flash of her red hair. ‘Somewhere in the forest.’ she replied. ‘That’s all he told me.’
Aldith rose to her feet – nearly losing her balance thanks to the size of her belly. ‘It’s Sawyer,’ she announced. ‘He’s the man who’s been taking the women.’ She pointed at Rose. ‘You should have told us he was back before now. It’s obvious it’s him.’
‘Ranulf hasn’t done anything,’ sobbed Rose. ‘He’s not like that.’
‘Oh come on, you stupid little fool,’ replied Aldith. ‘What do you know about men?’ she said, taking a moment to pat her own belly.
‘Who is this Ranulf Sawyer?’ I asked.
‘He’s a filthy charcoal burner,’ Aldith told me. ‘Likes to sneak about the forest with his hood up, scaring the life out of people. Especially women.’ She gave a scornful laugh. ‘Thought we’d chased him out a couple of years ago,’ she added. ‘But now it turns out that he’s crept back here.’ Aldith put her hand onto her neighbour’s shoulder to balance herself. ‘I say that we get some of the men together and hunt Sawyer down,’ she cried. ‘Hang him up for what he’s done.’
This idea was met with approval until Maud waved the crucifix again. ‘Be quiet for a moment!’ she said, waiting until the women finally settled. ‘I know it seems obvious to blame this man,’ she said. ‘But let’s not jump to conclusions. We have no real evidence against Sawyer.’
‘It’s got to be him,’ said Aldith, irritated at Maud’s opposition. ‘The man had Jocelin’s bracelet. What more evidence do you need?’
Maud fixed Aldith with another of her stares, until her younger opponent reluctantly returned her bottom to the bench. ‘Sawyer is odd, I agree,’ said Maud, as she calmly replaced the crucifix onto the table. ‘But I dealt with him for many years before he left, and I always found him to be honest enough. As Rose has pointed out, it is his job that’s unpleasant. Not the man himself.’ Maud sat down again and placed her hands elegantly into her lap. ‘We must not assume Sawyer is guilty,’ she said. ‘Just because he found a bracelet from one of the missing women.’
‘That’s right,’ said Rose, encouraged by Maud’s support. ‘There isn’t anything wrong with Ranulf. He didn’t do nothing.’
‘But he only says he found this bracelet,’ insisted Aldith. ‘How can we believe him? Who’s to say that he didn’t kill Jocelin and then steal the bracelet from her dead body?’
Maud considered this point for a moment. ‘It’s possible, of course. But I say that we must proceed with caution. Let’s not string up this man, only to leave the real killer at large. Surely that would be the worst crime of all?’
Aldith was about to argue, when we were all distracted by a scuffle at the door. Within a moment, John Roach strode across the hall, followed by Maud’s thin maid Johanna, who skipped along in his wake with a look of desperate apology on her face.
‘I’m sorry, Mistress,’ she whimpered at Maud. ‘I tried to stop him. But he pushed his way in. He wouldn’t listen to me.’
Maud stood up to face Roach. ‘What are you doing here?’ she asked, as Roach took up a position in the middle of the room, standing with his legs parted and his arms folded.
‘I hear you’re having a meeting,’ he replied. ‘About those runaways?’
‘They didn’t run away,’ said Aldith. ‘They’ve been murdered. By Ranulf Sawyer.’
Roach frowned. ‘What?’
I spoke up. ‘Sawyer’s name has come up during our discussions. Nothing more.’
‘Come up?’ said Roach, now addressing me. ‘How’s that, then?’
‘I was asking about the missing women,’ I replied. ‘It turns out that Sawyer found a bracelet in the forest. It had once belo
nged to Jocelin Baker.’
‘I thought you were collecting a forgotten psalter, Brother Oswald?’ he said. ‘Not holding a meeting.’ When I didn’t answer, he unfolded his arms and started to wag a finger at me. ‘I’m the Constable in this village. If you’re discussing these women, then you ask me first.’
‘Why would we do that?’ I replied sharply, annoyed at the way he had spoken to me. ‘You don’t care about them.’
Roach balled his fists and stepped towards me. I think he was half-intending to punch me, when Maud stepped into his path. ‘I must say that I think very poorly of a man who pushes his way into my house,’ she said. ‘So I’d like you to leave immediately.’
‘I should have been invited,’ answered Roach. ‘What right do you have to exclude me?’ He stood back nevertheless. Maud had intimidated him.
‘It’s my decision who enters my home,’ said Maud. ‘Mine alone.’
‘But—’
‘This is my house,’ she thundered, her cheeks now flushed with anger. ‘Do not dare to question me!’
Roach stepped back and then retreated towards the door. ‘No more gatherings without my permission,’ he blustered, in an attempt to save some face before he left. ‘Next time you’ll all be arrested. No matter where you’re meeting.’
The women jeered as the front door slammed in the distance, with calls for the ‘Cockroach’ to scuttle away, but the mood of the room had changed. With Roach’s departure, the last act of today’s drama had been played out. There was nothing more to say, the ale and bread had been consumed, and Maud had positioned herself by the door in an obvious sign that the women were expected to leave.
Most headed for the door immediately, but Aldith remained seated, refusing to move before she’d spoken to me. ‘So, Brother Oswald,’ she said. ‘What are you going to do about Sawyer, then?’
‘I’ll go and speak to him,’ I said.
‘Good. Because he’s guilty.’
‘We don’t know that.’
‘I think we do,’ she contended. ‘To my mind, there’s no argument.’