Sumerford's Autumn

by Barbara Gaskell Denvil

  “Oh, much better, Papa,” Humphrey smiled. “I don’t mean to hurt people, you know. Hamnet was fussing and I was very naughty to hurt him, but he was so very much in the way and made me cross. The others, well I just wanted to play. No one wants to play anymore. And I have to play sometimes. You do understand, don’t you? When I get that funny feeling here.” He patted his head, then his belly. “Like being hungry, but not for eggy custards. Then after I play for a little while, it all feels so much better. I’m all right now, thank you Papa. You’re not going to spank me like you used to do when I was little, are you? I think I’d like to go to bed now.”

  Ludovic had moved back and was leaning heavily against the wall. He felt his breathing forced and his brain quite immovable so that he could not think or speak at all. Gazing a little wildly around the room he saw the crumpled blankets on Humphrey’s bed had been pulled back. On the feather bolster lay the small bodiless head of a child, tucked as if for sleep.

  The earl continued holding Humphrey’s hand, nodding comfortingly. “No, I shan’t punish you, my boy,” he said quietly. “Going to your sleep seems best. You need, I think, to close your eyes in peace, and rest for a very long time. I will not hurt you, my dear, and nor will anyone else. It is time, I think, for you to go beyond pain.”

  The earl unbent, his hand moving slowly to the pummel of his sword. The countess squinted up at him through her tears. “No,” she moaned. “Please, not that.”

  The earl spoke almost in a whisper. “I have to, my dear. This time I must.”

  Humphrey smiled cheerfully from one parent to the other. “Come on Mamma, it’s no good arguing like you always do. Father always knows best. Men do, you know. I’m always good for papa, aren’t I sir?”

  “Invariably, my boy,” sighed the earl.

  “But,” Humphrey chattered, “I try to be good for you too, Mamma. Just sometimes the feelings get too strong. But you do understand, don’t you? And now I think I’ve done something else naughty. You won’t get cross again, will you?”

  The countess breathed deeply, her fingers back amongst Humphrey’s curls. “No, my love, I shan’t ever be cross with you again. Tell Mamma what you’ve done.”

  “I think I’ve pissed my hose,” he said mournfully.

  The earl nodded. “I believe I am close to that myself, my boy,” he murmured. “You’ll feel a great deal more comfortable soon. But first, you must do something important for me, something to make matters right again.” He squeezed Humphrey’s hand. Humphrey looked up at him nodding eagerly. “You must pray with me, my son,” the earl said. “I do not choose to call Father Dorne this time. Indeed, I would prefer him not to be involved. But there are words you must say, my dear, before you go to your rest.”

  “I always forget my prayers, Papa,” Humphrey said. “Mamma usually says the words first and then I say them after her. You’ve never prayed with me before, Papa. I shall like that. So you say it first, and then I’ll repeat it. That’s the way I like best.”

  “You must make your confession first, my child,” said the earl. “And I will listen and give you absolution.”

  Something struck Humphrey and he frowned. “That’s not proper, Papa,” he objected. “It’s the priest I have to say my confession to.”

  The earl shook his head. “Not this time, my son. This time you will confess to me,” he said. “It is quite proper, I assure you.”

  “Oh well,” smiled Humphrey. “If you say so, then it must be right. I forget the words Father Dorne always tries to make me say, but I can do it my own way, can’t I Papa?” He sat up straight as though in a confessional and spoke in a gallop without breathing. “Then I’m sorry that I hurt Hamnet, and I wish I hadn’t. I like Hamnet. He used to bring me honey cakes and custards when I was little. But he tried to get in the way after he saw what I’d done, so I had to hurt him. First of all I hurt Jenny’s maid, but I only wanted to play. Jenny held her tight for me but the girl kept screaming and it gave me a headache so I had to play harder, and then she went all sticky and floppy like they always do. So I confess to that. Then I didn’t feel any better at all so I told Jenny I had to play with her instead and she got all squawky, so I hurt her too. Quite a lot I think. I’m sorry about that too, but it was her own fault. She usually understands, but this time she said no and that wasn’t fair.”

  The earl nodded. “Go on, my son.”

  “Then I wanted to play with one of the page boys,” Humphrey said with a confiding smile. “I like them. But the only boy I could find was Remi. That’s Vymer’s little boy and Vymer got all funny about it and he said no too. I don’t like it when people say no to me. Vymer never says no, he always helps me play and brings me people to play with, but this time he was mean and stopped me, so I got angry. So I hurt Vymer. He sort of cried while I was hurting him so I’m sorry about that too. I ought to confess because it was naughty. Then I hurt a guard who tried to grab my arm. I mean, I’ll confess to that too if you like Father, but you can’t say that was naughty. I’m the Sumerford heir, aren’t I? The guards shouldn’t try to hold on to me, it isn’t right. And then there was lots of screaming and people running around and locking up the kitchens and everything, it was most confusing. And that wasn’t my fault either. I would have liked something to eat but Master Shore wouldn’t let me in. And then mother came and found me and she sung me songs. And now you’re here too Papa, so it’s nice and comfy again. And even Ludovic’s here, so that’s good, just like family dinners all together. For ages and ages I’ve really missed not having family dinners. So you shouldn’t go away again Lu. You’ve been gone so long and I got lonely.”

  Ludovic grappled for voice. “You said – Jenny’s maid,” he said, half strangled. “The girl you – hurt. Where is she? Who was she? Which girl? Do you know her name?”

  “Oh yes.” Humphrey smiled again, happy to please. “Jenny always called her girl. Just come here girl. You know, that kind of thing. But I asked her name while I was playing with her. I like to be polite. She was making lots of silly noises, but she said her name too because I made her. Helena, she said. I think that’s a very nice name.”

  Ludovic felt the sweat on his back turn to ice. He sank back again against the stone wall. “And Alysson,” he whispered, “who used to be Jenny’s maid. Black haired and beautiful. Do you remember her, Humphrey? Think hard. I have to know.”

  “Of course.” Humphrey nodded. “That’s silly, Lu, thinking I wouldn’t remember her. Jenny always said Alysson was going to be my special play partner one day, but I had to be good for ages first before I could have her.”

  Ludovic’s face became white and drawn. He felt overwhelming and utter nausea, his knees too weak to hold him upright. “Tell me what happened,” he whispered.

  Humphrey shook his head. “I’m not sure,” he answered, from smile to frown. “She was kept upstairs for me, getting nice and fat just how I wanted her and Jenny told me lovely stories about what I could do with her one day. Then the funny feelings started after dinner and no one was around to play with so I went upstairs to find my new special play-mate where Jenny had locked her up. But she didn’t want to play at all. I found that mean Alysson running away with a little boy. I got quite cross. Well, so would you, if that sort of thing happened after you’d been promised treats and waited and waited and been good and got all excited.”

  “You never – touched her?” croaked Ludovic.

  “No. I couldn’t,” Humphrey complained. “I tried but she ran away too fast. At least I got the key off her but she kicked me too, which hurt. So I went upstairs and found Jenny and Vymer. They were both groggy and had blood on them which was silly because I never touched them before that. So I shook them and made them get up and come downstairs and help me play. There was lots of thunder and lightning and I don’t like storms, they make my head go funny. I shouldn’t be left all alone when there’s storms, should I Papa? So Vymer and Jenny came downstairs all staggering and peculiar and they didn’t seem very well, b
ut they promised to be nice to me and that’s when it all started. But that’s all right, isn’t it, Father? I can’t think of anything else to confess except wetting my braies.”

  Humphrey smiled, looking around and hoping for praise. Heaving from the countess’s arms, he scrambled onto his knees but the earl shook his head.

  “Not just yet, my child. After confession, you must receive the Lord’s absolution.” He raised his hand, making the sign of the cross in the sultry air. “I therefore absolve you from all sin, in the name of God the Father, God the Son and God the Holy Spirit. I’m no priest, but I believe the saints will understand, and be kind.” He smiled gently, smoothing the sweat streaked hair back from Humphrey’s forehead. “I forgive you, my son, for all you’ve done. Indeed, I barely hold you responsible. I give you my own blessing, and that of our Lord. And now I wish you a deep and refreshing sleep.”

  Humphrey nodded, again extricating himself from his mother’s embrace. “That’s good, Papa, because I’m really tired. All that playing around is so exhausting. Even more than hunting. So now I’m specially sleepy.”

  The earl had withdrawn his sword from its scabbard. Beneath the folds of his damask, still wet from the journey, he kept it firm gripped and hidden. The countess began to cry again, hearty gulps which shuddered against Humphrey’s straining ear.

  The earl said, “Then you will sleep well, my boy.”

  “And I won’t dream,” smiled Humphrey. “I don’t like dreaming. My dreams are nasty things, all full of worms, and screaming and shouting and people running away from me. But after I’ve played, I sleep without dreaming at all. So I’ll wake up happy tomorrow. Can we go hunting tomorrow, Papa, now you’re home again at last?”

  “I shall see, my dear. I shall see.” The earl sighed, coming closer to kneel beside his son. He reached out his left hand and gently shifted the body of the slaughtered child from where it lay at the countess’s feet. The small boy was fine boned and pale skinned with a scattering of freckles across his shoulders. The headless neck looked thin and fragile. The earl pushed the ruined remains aside. He leaned forwards, smiling into his son’s eyes. His sword was poised, its blade still wrapped beneath his coat.

  The countess screamed. Humphrey turned, surprised, his mouth open in question. He was interrupted by thunder, shattering reverberations rolling over the cliffs beyond the castle. The sound of the rain increased. Humphrey moved once again into his mother’s warmth, clutching at her, pressing against her in panic. The earl paused, the point of his sword no longer finding its aim.

  The countess of Sumerford kissed her son’s brow, leaned across him and took up the long knife which had been used against the dead child. The blade still lay, still sticky and dark, on the ground amidst its stains. She wrapped her fingers around the plain wooden hilt, twisted her wrist, and then quite noiselessly slipped the steel beneath Humphrey’s left breast into the small pulse beating very fast and loud. The knife slid deep through Humphrey’s doublet and disappeared silently into his body. Humphrey seemed barely to notice. He spat blood once as if finding it an inconvenience, smiled, and leaned his head on his mother’s shoulder. Something rattled in his throat. His head became heavier and his eyes closed for sleep.

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  Ludovic swallowed bile. Turning abruptly, he left the room. A frantic disbelief made him dizzy. He shook his head, clearing his mind, concentrating only on urgency. He ran the corridor, hurrying again into the Lady Jennine’s quarters and crossing at once to the inner chamber. Jennine’s body had stiffened. Ludovic stepped across her and began to search the room beyond.

  There were no signs of Alysson. The clothes he remembered her wearing were not visible in any place, nor were any of her belongings. He clearly recollected the little she owned. During the weeks he had visited and nursed her during her convalescence, he had seen each part of the small collection she prized, two gowns apart from her old tunic and her livery, a hair brush, small mirror, blanchet and shoes. The garderobe was badly cleaned and rank. He began to knock on the walls. Humphrey had spoken of going upstairs. There was no upper level that Ludovic knew where a woman could be hidden or locked away and he supposed such a secret prison would have to be in one of the towers. The earl would not countenance such a thing above his own quarters and Ludovic himself inhabited the west tower. The hidden rooms might be sequestered above his mother’s apartments in the south tower, but he doubted it. The idea seemed preposterous. Only the east tower might possibly be used for that purpose and he examined everything carefully. But Ludovic found no secret closet there.

  He left quickly and began to explore the stone stairs outside. They wound downwards, leading to the nurseries. Then, amongst the chill and damp, he found another way, almost lost in shadows. Through an iron door bare wide enough for his shoulders to pass, narrower steps led steeply upwards. Ludovic took them two at a time and immediately entered the dark space above.

  He had never been there, never knew the place existed. He stepped in.

  The tower’s round peak held three tiny rooms, each leading into the next. Each was open. The doors swung, creaking in the wind. A window pane was cracked and the storm whined through. Rainwater trickled black from the broken casement across the bare boards. Ludovic bent and tested the liquid. It was not blood. He retraced his steps but each room was empty. There was no one there but there were signs of who had been before, and of what had happened to them.

  Alysson’s blanchet lay strewn across the bed. He recognised her old livery, torn and filthy on the ground. Her working shoes were neat beside a chest, the chest open, and others of her possessions within. Her best blue dress was gone, her good shoes no longer there. He found neither her hairbrush nor her shift, but shards of broken mirror lay scattered on the rug. There was blood both on the ground and on the bed. Not pools, as in Humphrey’s room, but old trails streaking the sheets and floor. There was also a boy’s shirt, small and very dirty. There was nothing else.

  Ludovic explored the entire castle carefully and systematically. It took him a very long time. Most of the staff had locked themselves in the kitchens and outhouses and it was some time before he could convince them to unlock the doors. They had feared a massacre, had seen the old guardsman murdered before their eyes, but could not protect either him or themselves for the wild eyed killer was their own master. They had served Humphrey throughout their lives, though had always been careful around him, knowing him to be odd and his behaviour erratic. Care and respect were due by right to all the noble Sumerfords, but Humphrey was irascible and unpredictable. Many guessed him capable of sudden violence, some had suffered his tempers. No one welcomed the thought of this heir becoming earl, for a man who enjoys whipping his servants is a hard master to serve. But they had never suspected him capable of unnatural slaughter.

  They came out, one by one, frightened and staring around. Ludovic spoke to them briefly, telling them little but promising his protection and the safety due them. He set them back to work, to build up the fires and to light the candles. There would soon be a great deal more to do.

  Ludovic met up with the guards Dockett, Hardy and Frouste whom the earl had sent to the castle’s second entrance, and ordered them to return to the small group still waiting outside, to reassure them and bring them home. He then ordered his father’s elderly secretary, waiting patiently at the bottom of the main staircase, to organise the staff in Hamnet’s absence. So the small furtive noises of fearful tread again filled the hall and the chambers beyond. Finally Ludovic asked for wine, and quickly drained the cup.

  He found his own quarters in the west tower barricaded. The doors were quickly unlocked for him but there was nothing to search there. He reassured his servants and left at once. He carried on to the north tower and his father’s domain. Again the personal staff were hiding within. Ludovic explained briefly. The recent problems with the Lord Humphrey had now been resolved, he told them. The earl, now exhausted, would soon retire, so required his chambers warmed an
d hippocras brought. Ludovic, avoiding passing beyond to Humphrey’s own apartments, then returned the way he had come.

  He asked constantly after Alysson. No one had seen her and no one knew where she was. She had left months ago, he was told, either dismissed or by choice. Perhaps her aunt had been ill. Perhaps she had been ill herself. Perhaps she had found a better position far away. Too fancy for a maid, they muttered, and was treated too easy by the lady. In any case and whatever the cause, Alysson Welles had disappeared long back and not been heard of again, neither in the castle nor in the village.

  Ludovic discovered Mistress Tenby shivering in the servant’s quarters, and he sat with her for a minute, patting her hand and comforting her. But she had no news either, and had never traced the lost lady’s maid who had left the castle employ with wages owing and no claim put in since. The Lady Jennine had spoken severely of the girl, Mistress Tenby said. In spite of being so well treated, positively cossetted in fact, Mistress Alysson had proved a sad disappointment in the end and the Lady Jennine had admonished her and sent her off. Others had come searching for her once, an old woman and a man, but that had been some time ago and nothing had come of it.

  There had been too many problems recently, Mistress Tenby admitted. Of his lordship the heir she was not qualified to speak, nor would permit herself such licence, but disorder had occurred on several occasions during the earl’s absence, especially when Master Vymer was suddenly re-introduced back into the castle and given authorisation to order the staff in the Lord Humphrey’s name. This had distressed everyone. Vymer Wapping was not liked, not liked at all, and was a common man for all his red hair was so like the Sumerfords’. And then there had been the endless problem of the privies. The cess pit had become blocked and a miasma of foul vapours had invaded the castle as sure as a heathen curse or a plague of serpents. A dreadful sludge had issued from the latrines and as soon as it was cleared then it came again. Vymer’s brother, the more likeable George Wapping, had set about digging the pit, which had made him ill, but the trouble was finally solved and some kind of dreadful muck taken away to clear the blockage. The privy was usable again but the stench still lingered in places, and the memory certainly did. The earl himself, bless his lordship’s noble heart, had of course been sore missed. As to the latest violence, well Mistress Tenby was unsure of the facts and could not comment. She had locked herself in her chamber at the first signs, hands firm against her ears. She had prayed that all would be well, and now here was proof of God’s mercy for the earl and Lord Ludovic were returned safe and sound. The castle could return to order again at last.