The Vanishing Witch

by Karen Maitland

  He dangled another. But I pushed it away and sat up abruptly, glancing over my shoulder towards the castle. Though we were hidden from the gate, I could see the walls rising above the line of trees. A small dark splinter of a figure moved across the top of them.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked, following my gaze.

  I shivered. ‘I kept thinking I was being followed here and thought I saw someone just now watching us.’

  My lover shaded his eyes with his hands. ‘It’s only the watchman on the castle wall, doing his rounds. If he can see us so far away he must have the eyes of a hawk.’

  ‘No, over there.’ I pointed towards the bushes a little way across the meadow. ‘I thought I saw movement.’

  ‘If someone is there, it’ll be one of the goat-boys looking for a place to nap out of sight of his master.’

  He tried to pull me down into the grass again, but I pushed him away. ‘Not here. It’s too open. We have to find somewhere else to meet next time. I can’t risk tales being carried back to my husband.’

  ‘What are you worried about, my sweet one? Even if every priest in Lincoln swore on Christ’s foreskin they’d seen us naked together, you could still convince Robert it was a lie. He’s infatuated with you. He’d more readily believe the Virgin Mary herself was a whore than that you were anything less than a saint.’

  He dipped his finger into the wine and drew it over my lips, then reached up to lick away the droplets.

  I turned my face aside. ‘You’re wrong. A man in love could discover his wife with a half-eaten babe in her hands, blood smeared on her lips, and he’d swear she’d been trying to save the child’s life. But let so much as a whisper of an illicit kiss reach him and, true or not, he’d fly into a jealous rage and never trust her again. We have to be careful, my beloved.’

  He sat up and began savagely to shred a blade of grass. ‘And don’t you think I’m jealous knowing you share Robert’s bed night after night and he can take you any time the mood seizes him? You won’t let me fuck you one afternoon when he’s miles away. Is that the thanks I get after all I’ve done for you?’

  ‘How do you know I still have a husband?’ I said. ‘The gossip in the marketplace is that the streets of London are piled with corpses. That was why you and I sent him to London, wasn’t it? If he’s killed there, no one will blame me for that and you will be able to have me in any place you choose, whenever it pleases you.’

  ‘And if he isn’t?’ he said, tearing up another grass blade.

  ‘If he returns alive, having contacted Gaunt, Robert’s reputation will grow in the city and so will his wealth. I cannot lose. I will find a way to dispose of him. But the precise manner of his death will take a good deal of thought. Another in the family so soon after Edith’s and Jan’s, and even old Father Remigius might start to wonder. I will have to find someone who will be blamed for Robert’s death without question so that it never occurs to anyone to look for another hand in this.’

  I plucked a buttercup and held it to his cheek, so that the gold reflected on his skin.

  He pushed it away impatiently. ‘I begin to think you’ve no intention of getting rid of him. You’re in love with Robert and it’s me you’re playing with.’

  I laughed. ‘I said I never intended to fall in love with Robert and I always speak the truth. Do you think that a butcher looks at a goat grazing in the field and thinks how lovely its coat, how sweet its face? No. He sees it skinned, chopped and being sold for a good profit. Do you really imagine I could fall in love with a corpse? From the moment I selected Robert out of all the men in Lincoln, that was what he was – a rotting cadaver. Dear Robert’s grave was dug on the first day I went looking for him at the guildhall. The only question you need to ask is how I will push him into it.’

  Chapter 52

  Hay ricks and thatched roofs must be finished with a green branch or straw cock to prevent witches from landing on them and to ward off fire and storms.

  Lincoln

  Adam heard the bell ring outside the high gate that led to the stableyard. He peered out of the casement. Tenney, a stout stave in his hand and a wicked-looking knife tucked into his belt, strode across the yard and opened the shutter over the grille. At once, he laid aside the stave and, yelling for the stable-boy, slid back the bracing beam and flung open the gate. There was a clatter of iron horseshoes on the cobbles as Robert’s mount trotted in, and Tenney hurried to close and brace the gate.

  Robert leaned forward over his horse’s neck, trying to swing himself onto the mounting block. He was visibly wincing and his movements were stiff and clumsy, as if he were injured. Adam remained standing at the casement. He was in no hurry to greet his father. If he was in pain, his temper would be worse than usual. As if he were watching a wild pigeon dragging a broken wing, he was curious, but he felt strangely unconcerned. He couldn’t even be bothered to go down to the great hall and tell Catlin her husband was home, and he knew Leonia wouldn’t.

  Turning his head he said softly, ‘Robert’s here.’

  Leonia smiled. ‘Told you he’d come today,’ she whispered. But she hadn’t told anyone else.

  She was sitting on a chair, combing her long black curls. She had already put on the blue gown with the gold trim Robert had bought for her. Not the necklace, though. It had gone. Leonia said her mother had taken it, and Adam was sure she was right – she always was. She’d been furious, but she’d said not a word to Catlin.

  ‘I’ll punish her for that, but not yet. I want to make her wait.’

  Adam shivered with excitement, thinking of Fulk lying on the warehouse floor, his face a mass of blood. He wanted to ask how she would punish Catlin, but he knew she wouldn’t tell him till she was ready.

  ‘What about them?’ Adam pointed to the floor below.

  Leonia smiled. ‘Wait . . . Wait till he comes in.’

  Adam glanced back out of the casement. Tenney had taken the reins from Robert’s hand and thrust them at the stable-boy. ‘Hold the beast steady, lad. Here, Master Robert, put your weight on my shoulder.’

  It took several minutes for Robert to ease himself to the ground. He stood there, bent over like an old man. Then, with obvious effort, he pulled himself upright and limped towards the door.

  Leonia crossed the solar and ran down the stairs, closely followed by Adam. She flung herself at Robert, seizing one of his hands and kissing it. ‘I’ve been so worried, Père. I feared something terrible had happened.’

  Robert hugged her, though his eyes closed briefly as if the movement caused him pain. He fingered her soft, glossy curls, but as he glanced up, Adam saw his expression harden at the sight of Edward and Catlin sitting side by side, murmuring to one another, when he entered.

  Catlin rose gracefully to her feet, but the smile on her lips did not reach her eyes. ‘What a delightful surprise, Robert. We weren’t expecting you. The news is so grave from London, I thought you might have been detained there longer. Were you received well at John of Gaunt’s palace? You must tell us about its splendours. I hear it is magnificent.’

  ‘I saw no splendours in London,’ Robert said dully. ‘Only ashes.’

  His gaze wandered back to the young man, who had not even had the courtesy to rise from the chair in which he was lounging. ‘Master Edward – still here? I’d thought you would be out searching for employment. You must be sorely in need of some means of supporting yourself, though perhaps you have already found work. You’ve bought some fine new clothes, I see.’

  ‘I’ve indeed been fortunate enough to secure a position,’ Edward said, with a grin. ‘My mother has engaged me as your new steward.’

  Robert’s face flushed with anger and he rounded on Catlin. ‘Since when does a wife engage a steward for her husband’s business? When I’m ready to replace my son I’ll find my own steward. I told you I would not employ Edward. He knows nothing of the business.’

  ‘But you did not find a steward, did you, Robert?’ Catlin said tartly. ‘And while you were awa
y being entertained in London, there was an accident at the warehouse. Your overseer, Fulk, a lifting hook hit him in the face. By some miracle he lives, but his jaw and nose were smashed. The bone-setter and physician have done what they can, but he cannot speak, and even if he mends, they say the blow to the head has driven his wits from him. Who knows if they will return?’

  ‘Fulk? God’s blood!’ Robert lowered himself stiffly into a chair. ‘Was it the Florentines who did this?’

  Adam’s gaze flicked to Leonia, but her expression gave nothing away.

  ‘It was an accident, wasn’t it, Adam?’ Catlin said. ‘Your son saw it happen.’

  Adam felt his face grow hot as his father turned to him.

  ‘Carelessness by one of the men?’

  Adam’s eyes darted back to Leonia. She held his gaze steadily, giving just the tiniest nod.

  Adam lifted his head. ‘The rope hadn’t been tied off properly. The knot must have worked loose and it swung down and hit him. No one can remember who tied it.’

  ‘But you should have checked it. You must always check up on the men! Haven’t I told you that a hundred times?’

  ‘But, Père, Fulk was the overseer,’ Leonia said, her eyes brimming with innocence. ‘Shouldn’t he have checked?’

  Robert’s tired eyes softened. ‘Yes, my dear. I suppose the man has only himself to blame, when all is said and done.’

  ‘So you see, Robert,’ Catlin said, ‘with the men so careless even when they are closely supervised, I was in despair, fearing for what might happen to your business with no one to direct them. I had to engage someone until you returned, and who better than my own son? At least we know we can trust him. I don’t have your experience in employing men, Robert. I daren’t risk hiring a stranger for fear he might turn out to be a thief or a rogue.’

  ‘My poor mother couldn’t possibly be expected to run the business with neither steward nor overseer to guide her and to direct the men. I felt compelled to offer my services, at least until you returned.’

  Catlin gazed earnestly at Robert, her expression now as soft and gentle as her daughter’s. ‘Please tell me I have done right, my sweeting. I couldn’t bear it if you were angry with me.’

  Robert still looked far from happy, but he said grudgingly, ‘I suppose I could hardly expect a woman . . . But now that I’ve returned I will take control.’

  ‘But you still need a steward,’ Catlin reminded him. ‘And since Edward has so gallantly stepped in to help me, it would be ungrateful and churlish to dispense with his services. Besides, what would be the point? You’d only have to put yourself to the great trouble of finding another.’

  Adam had never seen his father so exhausted. There was a bruise on his cheek, and the way he kept his arm wrapped about his ribcage made him wonder if he’d been thrown from the horse.

  Diot waddled in with a jug of wine, which she set before Robert. ‘’Tis a mercy you returned home safe, Master Robert. Mistress has been fretting something fierce for you, pining away she has. She’s such a faithful, tender heart, just like her poor mother.’

  She darted a sly grin at Catlin, whose eyes flashed menace. Diot’s grin instantly fell from her face and she busied herself pouring a goblet of wine for Robert.

  ‘Pining’ was not the word Robert would have used to describe his wife’s demeanour when he’d entered the hall, but he was too sore and weary to pursue the thought. He took several deep gulps from the goblet Diot handed to him.

  ‘Apart from the accident at the warehouse, has all been peaceful here? Tenney came armed to the gate. Has someone tried to break into the house again?’

  Diot and Catlin both started to speak at once, but Catlin silenced Diot with a look.

  ‘We received word that rebels from London are marching up to York, and they plan to come through Lincoln. I ordered Tenney to make the house as safe as he could and—’

  ‘They say Norwich’s been sacked,’ Diot interrupted. ‘Houses burned, and the justice of the peace dragged from his own bed, set in the pillory and beheaded there, like a common felon. That can’t be true, can it, Master Robert? What’ll we do if they come here?’

  Robert closed his eyes, pressing his hand across his mouth, trying to stop himself vomiting. His fingers were trembling. He took a deep breath. ‘Lincoln’s safe for now. The rebels were turned back at Huntingdon yesterday. The townspeople came out and barred the bridge, so they couldn’t cross the Ouse. It’s a bridge that’s easily defended and the only crossing place for miles.’

  ‘But what of your mission, Robert?’ Catlin asked. ‘Shall John of Gaunt send men to defend us?’

  Robert heaved himself to his feet, with a grunt of pain. ‘Gaunt’s still in Scotland, but the rebellion’s crushed in London. Wat Tyler, one of their leaders, was killed when he went to make his demands of the King, who led the rebels into a trap. He accounted himself well, I’m told.’

  ‘Then it’s over,’ Catlin said. ‘Thanks be to the Blessed Virgin, we’re safe.’

  ‘How can it be over,’ Diot whined, ‘if they burned down Norwich and Ipswich, and Cambridge too, so they say? We’ll be butchered in our beds, I know it.’

  ‘Stop screeching, you old baggage,’ Edward said, rising from his chair. ‘You’re worse than the market alewives. Saints preserve us, the sky’s falling in!’ he wailed, hunching his back and pressing his face into Diot’s, waggling his finger in a cruel imitation.

  She jerked away. ‘One of these days, Master Edward . . .’ she spat. ‘I’ll not be mocked. You’ll be—’

  ‘Edward’s only teasing, Diot,’ Catlin said soothingly. ‘You know how fond he is of you. You’re as dear to us as if you were our own family. And we will take care of you. You don’t need to fear the rebels, Diot, not them.’

  The old woman frowned, gnawing her lip. Edward, grinning maliciously, snatched up a goblet and thrust it towards her, waiting for her to fill it with wine. Diot pushed past him and waddled towards the kitchen, muttering that she didn’t care what anyone said, she’d be sleeping with a knife in her hand from now on.

  Edward poured wine into his goblet. ‘Little Maman’s right. None of us needs worry about a few ragged labourers armed with pitchforks. Robert’s only a merchant, not a justice of the peace. What reason would they have to kill him or us?’

  ‘They don’t need a reason,’ Robert said, staring at the wooden table.

  He was silent for a few moments. Then, with a great effort, he seemed to pull himself out of his reverie. ‘If you’re acting as my steward, Edward, we’d best go to the warehouse and you can show me what precautions you’ve taken.’

  Edward waved a hand dismissively. ‘You don’t need to trouble yourself with that today. Such a journey at your age . . .’ He faltered under Robert’s furious glare. ‘Besides, there’s little to see at the warehouse. I’ve set men to keep watch, and I’ve moved some of the more valuable goods into the castle, in case they should set fires at the quay.’

  ‘What?’ Robert cried, and clutched at his ribs. ‘You’ve put them in the one place the rebels are bound to attack!’

  ‘Several merchants have done the same,’ Catlin said. ‘They won’t storm the castle. They wouldn’t dare attack Gaunt’s property.’

  But Robert was already halfway out of the door, yelling at Edward to follow. Edward’s eyes flashed wide at Catlin in silent appeal for her to intervene, but she merely shrugged indifferently and he had no choice but to follow Robert.

  As soon as the two men had left the hall, Leonia looked up at Catlin, with disarming innocence. ‘You didn’t think Père was coming back, did you, Mother? You thought he was going to die in London.’

  Adam stared at Leonia, but she merely continued to gaze, wide-eyed, at her mother.

  ‘Naturally, I was terrified your stepfather might come to harm. I prayed daily for his safe return.’

  ‘Is that where you go every afternoon? Do you go to pray, Mother?’

  Chapter 53

  A family will only pros
per if an animal be buried alive in the walls or floors of the house, so that its spirit will lend the house strength and it will not fall or burn.

  Greetwell

  ‘Set us down here,’ Gunter told the carter.

  The man reined in the horse and swivelled round. ‘You’re sure you don’t want me to take you to the Gilbertine priory? It’s only a little further and I hear they’ve a good infirmary.’

  ‘His mam’ll tend him. He’ll mend.’

  Gunter slipped an arm under his son and tried to lift him, but the boy yelped.

  ‘Let me help you.’ The carter slid down from his perch and came round to the back of the cart. He helped Gunter pull the boy forward so that Gunter could sling his son over his shoulder.

  ‘He doesn’t look too good,’ the carter said doubtfully.

  Hankin’s face was pale and beaded with sweat. His eyes were screwed up against the pain. The back of his tunic was shredded to ribbons, and pale, watery blood was once again seeping through the bandages beneath.

  ‘He’ll be better when he’s in his bed,’ Gunter said firmly.

  ‘You’re not planning to carry him home?’

  ‘It’s not far by the track.’

  The carter shrugged and climbed up to the seat, slapping the reins on the back of the horse. Gunter shouted his thanks and the man lifted a hand in acknowledgement, but did not turn again.

  Gunter waited until the cart had disappeared round the bend, then made for the river. It was difficult to scramble down the steep bank with the boy across his shoulder. Several times he slipped and Hankin cried out as the movement jerked him but Gunter reached the bottom safely and laid him gently on the grass next to the water. He hunkered down beside his son to wait, massaging his aching stump. The end was rubbed raw and bleeding inside the wooden leg, but he daren’t take it off to examine the wound, fearing that if he did, he wouldn’t be able to cram it back into the hollow. Time enough to see to it when he’d got the boy safely home.