The Scandal of the Skulls

by Cassandra Clark

  Sounds floated down to the bottom of the shaft but they were too confused to identify. Then came a long silence. With a shiver of fear she realised she was trapped down here. Recklessly, she had put all her trust in the two windlassmen and another man accused of murder. They could leave her here. What was she to them? No-one would know she was here unless an inquisitive person such as herself thought to wander into the scrub.

  Something hit her in the face. It slithered round her neck like a snake. A snake? She flinched back with a yelp, recovered her wits and reached out to grasp what she was pleased to discover was the end of a rope.

  Winding it round her waist, she tied a knot that would hold, and called up to the men. It was somehow worse being dragged to the top because all the forces in play wanted to pull her down again but the rope was used for hauling heavy stone up the side of the steeple and easily took the strain of a human body - as she was already aware.

  Moments later she was scrabbling at the rim of the shaft where the long grass was flattened. Strong arms hauled her over the brink to safety.

  Ulric grunted, ‘He’s delirious. Babbling like a mad man. We think he’s got a fever. What do we do with him now?’

  They all turned to look at the man lying on the ground. He was groaning and muttering something they could not make out through the veil of pain that distorted his words. While she was down the shaft Hildegard had been working out what to do next. It was no good handing Frank over to the serjeants unless he had some proof of his innocence to offer them.

  At first she thought it would be a good idea to ask the tavern-keeper at the Cat, who seemed a pragmatic type, to take Frank in and give him a bed until matters were more certain.

  Then it seemed a bad idea when she imagined the in and out of so many people to his private quarters, wife, female servants, you name it, she told herself. News would be round the town in a flash.

  Now she said, ‘We’ll need something to carry him on as he says he can’t walk.’

  Col disappeared into the trees without a word. Ulric took off his cloak, threw it down so it covered the injured man, and followed him. When they returned they had two stout saplings roughly trimmed. The cloak was snatched off Frank and thrown over the poles. It was tied on with lengths of the rope that had brought them both to the top.

  ‘Shift him onto that, Col. By the shoulders.’

  With more sweat and curses they managed to drag Frank onto the stretcher. He lay as helpless as a broken-winged bird.

  Gasping through pain he said, ‘Thanks, fellas. I owe you. You’ll have a barrel-load of hail marys from me if I get through this.’

  ‘A barrel-load of ale would do us, bro.’

  ‘Aye, and save your prayers for yourself,’ replied Ulric, gruffly.

  When they lifted him off the ground he groaned but managed to gasp, ‘Where are you taking me?’

  ‘Straight to the serjeant,’ quipped Col. ‘Claim our reward. Where else?’

  ‘I wouldn’t care.’ Frank gave another groan as his body jolted onto the stretcher.

  Hildegard led the way and acted as look-out. Not all the town thought well of the injured man.

  When they reached the lane end they came to a stop. ‘I can assure you,’ she said, ‘it will be best. She will not say no.’

  There was no-one in sight and she indicated to the winchmen that they could emerge from the shadows. At a brisk rate they carried the now almost unconscious Frank down the street to the doors of the house of the Benedictines.

  ‘Made it,’ muttered Ulric, setting down his end of the stretcher in unison with Col. ‘We’ll scarper now if you don’t mind, domina.’

  ‘Not a word,’ warned Hildegard.

  ‘And undo all our good work? Remember us in your prayers, if you will.’

  Sister Elwis lived up to the opinion Hildegard already had of her and after listening to a brief explanation she gave a quick glance left and right along the street and opened the door wide. ‘Can he drag himself inside?’

  Frank, urged on by the two women, somehow managed to half crawl, half slither over the threshold. As soon as the door was shut Hildegard gave a sigh of relief. ‘Safe enough for now.’

  ‘Let’s have more light and see about these legs of his,’ suggested the nun. ‘I shall wake one of the sisters. I’m sure between the three of us we can get him onto a mattress and out of sight should the serjeants come knocking.’

  TWENTY SIX

  The tall monk in the white habit drew the eyes of many women as he strode down the busy High Street leading his hired horse next morning.

  Just to see him raised Hildegard’s spirits. He came to a stop when she slipped from between two stalls to greet him.

  ‘Good timing, Gregory.’

  ‘My dear Hildegard. I am vastly relieved to see you got back safely.’ He took her arm and murmured, ‘Had a quiet time of it while I’ve been away?’

  ‘Fairly,’ she replied. ‘I’ll tell you more when we’re sitting somewhere comfortable. And you?’

  ‘Nothing I couldn’t handle.’ He grinned. ‘Those brothers at Netley are a convivial bunch.’ He looked down into her eyes. ‘And our mutual friend? Any sign of him?’

  ‘Let’s get out of this crowd.’

  ‘So de Lincoln believes the gold is on its way to London? Good. And so it is. But thanks to you without the names of the subscribers attached. If anyone makes inquiries the gold to release Sir Simon comes from a benefactor of our Order, anonymous, according to his wishes and the terms of his penance. It’s now on the way to our headquarters at St Mary Graces with a trusted courier from Netley Abbey.’

  ‘That’s a good story - ’

  ‘Should anybody ask! Now all we have to do is bite our nails until the happy day of Burley’s escape from the Tower.’

  ‘And you met your kinsmen?’

  ‘Kinswomen, mostly. Yes. Very satisfactory all round. But you, what else do you have to tell me?’

  ‘You must have been a good lawman, Gregory. You can read minds. There is something. Two things.’ She bit her lip. ‘One of them is personal. De Lincoln has asked for my daughter’s hand in marriage.’

  ‘You’ll say no of course!’

  ‘It’s not entirely up to me. She’s the ward with the Kings permission of the dowager countess. I would to God I had never let her go. It seemed the wisest course at the time.’

  ‘All children benefit from living in a household other than their own. It sharpens them, makes them self-reliant and shows them how to behave in a civilised manner. You did the right thing. But surely the countess will agree with you? The age difference alone - ’

  ‘She regards Ysabella as a potential spy in de Lincoln’s house.’

  Gregory raised his eyes to heaven then closed them. ‘Ysabella is of course intrigued by the idea?’ His eyes snapped open.

  ‘You’ve guessed right. But she won’t marry even so. She is enamoured of the countess’s young nephew.’

  ‘No worries then?’

  ‘I simply wonder how de Lincoln will take to being thwarted? He’ll be in a foul mood too when he realises that his golden net to trap a shoal of King Richard’s friends has caught not a single sprat.’

  Gregory crossed himself. ‘Interesting times lie ahead. If your second piece of news is not urgent shall we go in to pray? The bell has been calling us for some time.’

  Hildegard could scarcely focus on the words of the litany. Her thoughts were busy with too many unanswered questions, uppermost was the fate of her daughter, naturally, and then there was Frank, lying on his mattress in a small cubby hole off Sister Elwis’s own solar, with proof of his innocence yet to be found.

  He had been distraught when she asked him if he could provide any evidence. ‘I cannot. And I shall not sleep tonight for thinking about it.’ He had reached out to grip her by the arm. ‘Whatever happens, my eternal gratitude for saving my life, domina.’

  Then there was the life of Sir Simon Burley hanging by a thread. The thought of that good
man suffering inside the Tower of London lay like a cloud over all other questions. His imprisonment was the talk of the town, despite Westminster’s distance from Salisbury. Along with the mystery of Frank Atkinson’s disappearance, it made the rumour-mongers imagine they were in paradise.

  In Frank’s connection necromancy was mentioned. Devilish allies were said to have visited him prior to his murder of two innocents. An old soothsayer had issued warnings only a week since. The beauty of his sister was again mentioned as if it were a curse on everyone who beheld it.

  Summoned, it seemed, by the very witchery of these rumours, when Hildegard happened to turn round to glance at the congregation crowding into the Lady Chapel she at once espied the girl herself.

  She was staring straight ahead. Pale-faced. Hair loose round her shoulders like cloth of gold. A face of luminous beauty. Many surreptitious glances were sent her way. Some admiring, some narrow with jealousy. Hildegard nudged Gregory.

  ‘Frank’s sister is standing three rows behind us.’

  After a pause Gregory casually turned his head.

  When he looked down at Hildegard he was frowning.

  After the final amen they paced along the cloisters in the direction of the west door and on reaching the corner out of sight of the milling crowd he explained.

  ‘I’ve seen that girl before. Once seen, never forgotten, as they say. She is certainly striking which is why I noticed her in the first place. She stood out from the rest like a lily among thorns - ’

  ‘Well, where did you see her?’ asked Hildegard with enough asperity to jerk him out of his reverie.

  ‘It was at the Cat of all places. And,’ his frown deepened, ‘she was laughing and joking with the man we now know to be de Lincoln.’

  Gregory explained that he had been waiting for Hildegard at the Cat where they intended to dine on their first day in Salisbury. The girl, Idonea, had been with a group of young people, apprentices and such like and maids from the market. A brash young fellow in a green tunic had his arm round her waist.

  Hildegard gave a start. ‘Was that Robin, do you think?’

  Gregory pursed his lips. ‘I haven’t seen him since then...’ He frowned. ‘You may be right.’

  ‘It was that night, wasn’t it, when he was trussed up and everything went wrong?’

  ‘I believe it was.’

  ‘So did anything happen?’

  ‘De Lincoln came in.’ He gave her a puzzled frown. ‘We didn’t know who he was at that point. I only noticed him because I noticed Idonea first.’

  ‘And then?’

  ‘Nothing much. The fellow who had his arm round Idonea left just as de Lincoln arrived. De Lincoln said something to Idonea to make her blush and flutter her eyelashes. They exchanged some brief flirtatious chit-chat until one of the apprentices said something that made Idonea pout and soon after that she left with a group of girls. They became skittish at the sight of rain.’

  ‘You were watching them closely.’

  ‘Not really. There was nothing else going on while I waited.’

  ‘And de Lincoln left before I arrived.’

  ‘He went out soon after the girls left. I thought he intended to continue his flirtation with Idonea outside.’

  ‘And then he came back after we’d eaten and you’d gone off to the next office?’

  ‘To sext, yes. And you heard him asking the ale man about you.’

  Hildegard gave him a questioning look. ‘Do you think there’s a real connection between Idonea and de Lincoln or was it just one of those chance tavern meetings?’

  ‘It was impossible to tell. She was certainly flattered by whatever it was he was saying to her.’

  ‘But not enough, surely, to make her be untrue to Robin? They were handfast only the day before, or so she told me.’

  ‘It was a flirtation. De Lincoln’s no callow youth. To Idonea he must have the romance of a world she can only yearn for. Of course, it is possible they knew each other already.’

  ‘Didn’t you notice Idonea when they brought Robin’s body down from the tower?’

  ‘I was at the back of the crowd with the horses by then, if you remember.’

  ‘Do you think de Lincoln’s interest in Idonea has any relevance to what happened to Robin?’

  ‘A jealous rival, you mean?’

  ‘Something like that.’

  ‘I don’t see how it could be that. De Lincoln seems to be a light sort of fellow when it comes to women and I can’t see it going any deeper with him and certainly not with someone so beneath him.’

  She looked thoughtful. ‘If de Lincoln knows Idonea then he probably knows Frank.’

  Gregory grasped the point at once. ‘You said the winchman believed Frank had been fixed by someone?’

  ‘That’s what he said.’

  ‘By the man in the steeple?’

  They stared at each other in silence for a moment then together said, ‘De Lincoln?’

  ‘This raises more questions than it answers,’ observed Gregory as they went outside and strolled towards the Close. ‘Why would someone of de Lincoln’s status, spy, we assume, for Arundel and Woodstock if not for the whole Lancaster faction, bother himself with a small town stone-mason?’

  ‘He’s bothered himself to the extent that he’s trying to flush out King Richard’s supporters in Salisbury, whoever they are. Just think how dangerous it would be for Gloucester and Arundel if the king were able to raise an army down here. The fact that de Lincoln has discovered a group willing to pay gold to release Sir Simon from the Tower indicates a high degree of support. The possibility must have the duke of Gloucester dancing with rage.’

  ‘He can dance all he likes. He has no proof other than de Lincoln’s word - not now.’ Gregory smiled thinly. ‘They might be small fry but I suppose it doesn’t mean they couldn’t rouse up an array of some strength.’

  Hildegard frowned. ‘If they could muster an army to stand between here and the West Country it could make a formidable opposition to Arundel and his militia. Gloucester might command the south-east and the midlands but that won’t be enough if he wants to grab power from the king. He’ll need the south west as well.’ She frowned. ‘But what this has to do with Frank is anybody’s guess.’

  She took Gregory’s arm.

  ‘I haven’t told you about the quarrel between Frank and Robin, have I? This comes from Sister Elwis.’

  She told him everything the nun had mentioned about the quarrel four years ago that led to the hanging of two of Robin’s guild brethren.

  ‘So Frank wanted to get even?’

  ‘That’s how it’s made to look.’

  ‘To me it suggests that de Lincoln must have had prior knowledge of the situation in order to turn it to his advantage. Setting one mad dog against another, if you see what I mean.’

  ‘I do.’

  There was a small silence before Gregory said, ‘Why don’t you go and talk to Idonea? Find out how well she knows de Lincoln? See if she lets anything slip?’

  ‘I shall do that, brother. Before then I shall return to my guest house to see if Frank has sufficiently revived from Sister Ann’s ministrations to be able to fill in the blanks for us on his own predicament.’

  The small chamber, not much larger than a store for laundry was located off the common chamber of the lay-sisters and connected to Sister Elwis’s solar. Anyone might have mistaken it for the door to an aumbry, a book store, if they hadn’t known its true purpose.

  A skylight let in a flood of sunshine but the light fell on Frank in a scattered way from between racks hung with sheets and newly-washed blankets being put away for the summer. A scent of lavender from the washing hung in the air.

  Sister Ann was sitting beside the invalid where he lay on a straw mattress. Both his legs were propped on cushions and had been efficiently splinted and bandaged.

  The herberer nun looked up when Hildegard poked her head round the door. ‘He’s still sleeping, domina. I gave him a draft of white pop
py to ease the pain. Only one leg is broken, the other merely badly bruised, but his knee is swollen so I’ve splinted it to keep it immobile.’ She leaned back a little to ease her muscles. ‘At present there is little more I can do, poor fellow.’

  ‘It was lucky his fall was broken by the bush growing out from the wall of the shaft.’ Hildegard edged into the small space available. ‘I thought at first his back was broken.’

  ‘His angels swooped down as he fell, that’s for sure.’

  ‘Has he said anything about how it happened?’ Hildegard asked.

  ‘Not yet. He was somewhat confused when he opened his eyes earlier. Mistook the line of washing for clouds and thought he was in heaven, silly lad.’

  ‘It must seem like heaven after lying at the bottom of a deep shaft for hours. How long was he there, do you think?’

  ‘Not for me to say. Be patient. When he wakes we’ll get answers to your questions.’

  With nothing else to learn at this stage Hildegard went to look for Idonea. She had to call at Mistress Treadwell’s to find out where she and Frank lived. The cottage was in much the same state as before, reflecting the grief of Mistress Treadwell which nothing seemed to assuage.

  ‘How is Idonea taking Frank’s disappearance?’ Hildegard asked after a greeting.

  ‘Says over and over she never wants to see him again.’ Mistress Treadwell sighed. ‘She doesn’t know what she’s saying. It means the opposite. I know her. She’s sick with worry. She had the serjeants ransacking the house last night. You could hear her screaming for them to get out right down the street.’

  ‘Poor girl.’ Hildegard bit her lip. Now was not the time to share the information they had about Frank, not until they knew he was in the clear and that no-one was about to accuse him anew.

  TWENTY SEVEN

  The house Idonea lived in was one in a row on the same street as the Treadwell’s. She must have grown up with Robin, just as her brother had done, just as most of Master Gervase’s apprentices had grown up together. Only Friar Jonathan had later been excluded from this magic circle by reason of his cleverness at school and his resulting skill in writing and reading Latin.