The Heart of Darkness

by Odelia Floris

  ‘They ’ad cloths sort of tied round their faces.’

  ‘I see. What colour were the horses they rode?’

  ‘They was a sort of brown colour.’

  Sir Richard turned to address his men. ‘I don’t think we are going to get any further here.’ He paused to remount Lucifer, then wheeled the horse around. ‘Let’s set the dog on the scent. I can see the hoof prints of the villains’ horses on the ground here. It does not look like any other horses have passed through recently, so we ought to have a good chance of catching their scent.’

  With his nose intently sniffing the ground, the dog led the men along the road for a short distance before he veered off into the forest.

  The closely-following men-at-arms managed to keep up a good pace as there was very little undergrowth, just a thick carpet of dry leaves underfoot. The woods they were being led through were filled with ancient trees, towering giants through whose massive canopy hardly any sunlight penetrated to the forest floor below.

  After a while, the trees began to thin out and the undergrowth to thicken. Then, through a parting in the trees, a small lake came into view.

  ‘I hope the bastards haven’t ridden into the water,’ the sheriff remarked to his sergeant. ‘If they did, we have little chance of picking up their scent again.’

  Much to everyone’s disgust, the trail did indeed lead to the shore of the lake. There, after much sniffing around, the dog finally sat down whining, unable to find the scent.

  ‘Spread out and search around the edges of the lake for any signs of them; there might be hoof prints in the muddy ground near the water,’ Sir Richard ordered his men. ‘And you, Will,’ he gave the dog handler a nod, ‘see if that mutt can find the place they came out of the water.’

  ‘Yes, sir!’ chorused the men.

  But after many hours crashing through the thick undergrowth and much cursing, the sheriff and his men failed to find any sign of the kidnappers. Forced to admit defeat, they turned back the way they had come and wearily rode for Hartfield, both man and beast splattered with mud from trudging through the marshy ground and bleeding from bramble scratches.

  * * * *

  ‘Yes, everything is here,’ Rowena informed the delivery driver who sat patiently on his ox-drawn cart, waiting while she checked that the food he had just delivered to the castle was all present and correct.

  ‘God speed, lady.’ He tipped his cap and urged the oxen forward, the wooden wheels of the cart creaking in protest as it moved off.

  Just as she was turning to go back inside, Rowena noticed a man walking into the courtyard. He was a respectable-looking man of about fifty, sombrely but neatly dressed in a long dark blue robe.

  ‘Can I help you, sire?’ she called to him.

  His manner was tense and agitated. ‘I need to see the sheriff at once!’

  ‘I am afraid Sir Richard is not here at the moment. I am his personal clerk, Rowena Walden. Perhaps I could pass on a message?’

  The man shook his head. ‘No, Mistress Walden. I need to see him now!’

  ‘Sir Richard rode out to Dovers Dell this morning, and he said he would not be back until late this afternoon.’

  ‘So the rumour is true,’ cried the grey-haired man, his eyes shining with a slightly unnerving intensity. ‘There has been another kidnapping near Dovers Dell!’

  ‘Yes, there was a report of a girl being carried off which Sir Richard has gone over to investigate. Do you have information about the crime, sire?’

  ‘No, I am Walter Gray, father of the twin girls who disappeared two months ago. They were taken right near the edge of Hartfield. That wretched sheriff hasn’t found a trace of them, not a single clue about where they might be or who took them. They were snatched barely half a mile from this castle. He’s just useless, useless!’ the man wailed, his face lined with anguish.

  ‘I am very sorry, sire,’ Rowena said helplessly.

  ‘I may be just a humble cloth merchant, but my goodwife and I loved our daughters dearly. My poor wife has hardly risen from her bed since our daughters were taken, so overcome with grief is she. They are our only daughters. We now have only our oldest son remaining, his brother having been taken by the plague that swept through the town two winters ago.’ The man’s voice broke as sobs racked through him, his thin body shaking with their violence.

  Rowena felt completely useless, but managed to say reassuringly, ‘I am so sorry for your loss. Sir Richard will be doing everything he can. God willing, the felons might have left some new clues at Dovers Dell that expose their identity.’

  * * * *

  ‘Did you find the maiden that went missing?’ Rowena asked Sir Richard hopefully, as he jumped off Lucifer at the foot of the steps leading up to Eaglestone’s main entrance.

  Sir Richard pushed his lank black hair back from his sweat-covered forehead. ‘No, we did not.’

  ‘Did you find out anything at all?’

  He handed Lucifer’s reins over to a pageboy. ‘Not really.’

  ‘Oh,’ she replied, crestfallen. ‘I was hoping you had found some clues that could lead to the felons who kidnapped those twins.’

  The knight scowled down at her dangerously. ‘Were you indeed? And what concern is that of yours?’

  ‘Am I not entitled to have compassion for the poor parents of those maidens?’

  ‘Not if you’re just going to bug me about it!’ Sir Richard replied sourly, pulling out a folded piece of paper that was tucked into his sword belt. ‘A royal messenger handed me this at the gate. It’s in that damned Latin, and he said it was urgent. What does it say?’

  She took the paper and unfolded it. ‘It says that you missed the deadline for sending in your tax payment, and if you don’t send it this very instant, the king will send down some of his soldiers to make sure you do.’

  ‘Hell, are you jesting?’ He seized the paper and stared at it, even paler than usual. ‘I know for certain that I never received any tax demand from the king recently!’

  ‘It states here plainly that a letter was sent to you several weeks ago informing you of the new tax the king is charging all sheriffs.’

  ‘So I received some tax demand and you did nothing about it?’

  ‘I’m telling you, I have never seen anything about it until now, so if you will excuse me, I’m going home!’ And with that, she determinately marched off.

  ‘What about the tax payment?’ he shouted after her.

  ‘Find thirty crowns and send it back with that letter,’ she called over her shoulder. ‘And if you can’t find the money, there is nothing I can do to help you.’

  He strode after her. ‘Where do you think you are going? I need you to sort this damn thing—’ he shook the letter furiously, ‘out now!’

  She stopped. ‘You’ve already accused me of being incompetent, now sort it out yourself!’

  Then she pushed away the letter he held out to her and started walking again, leaving the furious sheriff standing there scowling blackly at the offending letter in the courtyard, which had rapidly emptied at the sound of his bellowing.

  * * * *

  Rowena put down the heavy basket of pears and stood back to survey the bare boughs with satisfaction. That was the last of the orchard’s fruit crop to be picked; the rest was already safely stowed away in the larder for the harsh winter months ahead.

  As she was about to pick up the basket of fat, russet-tinged pears again and carry it back to the manor, she heard the crunch of approaching footsteps on the gravel path.

  Could she never get a moment of peace without someone plaguing her? For a moment she contemplated quickly vaulting over the orchard wall to escape, but Sir Richard appeared from behind the trees before she had a chance to act.

  ‘Ah, there you are,’ he said, walking up to her. ‘The kitchen wench said I’d find you here.’

  She swatted away a buzzing wasp, muttering, ‘Be off with you, you pest,’ at the offending little creature.

  Sir Richard looked ruff
led. ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘I was talking to a wasp,’ she snapped, sounding like she wished she had meant it for him. ‘Anyway, what do you want? Can’t you see I’m busy!’

  The tall knight seemed unusually meek, as he did not react to her hostile words. Instead, he stood there silently for a few moments, fidgeting with his gauntlets.

  She wiped her hands, sticky from the pears’ sweet juice, on the skirt of her pale linen dress. ‘Well, what is it you wanted? I have got things to be getting on with.’

  He wrung his gloves tightly. ‘I came over to—ahem—well, the thing is, Rowena, I am sure that the local people know more about the kidnapping over at Dovers Dell than they are saying and…’

  She gave a huff of impatience as he trailed off yet again.

  ‘And Gallagher suggested,’ he continued slowly, ‘that maybe we would find more out if—if you spoke to them.’

  ‘After your insults yesterday, you now want me to trudge all the way over to Dovers Dell in the heat and do your job for you?’

  ‘I—I—’ he stammered, seeming barely able to force the words out. ‘I regret what I said earlier. We are getting nowhere with the investigation and the people are getting restless—’ He finally lifted his eyes from the ground. ‘Will you help?’

  She crossed her arms. ‘Haven’t you forgotten to add something to that?’

  He looked confused. ‘Forgotten something?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Oh, I see…’ He paused uncomfortably, his lips a thin line of annoyance.

  Rowena stomped her foot. ‘If a man cannot ask a lady a favour without being graceless and ill-mannered, he is certainly no gallant!’

  As she started to angrily turn away, Sir Richard caught her by the arm. ‘Rowena, stop! Will you help…please?’

  Realizing that this was as close to grovelling as Sir Richard was likely to come, and with the memory of the missing twins’ father’s desperate plea still haunting her, she knew she could not refuse with a clear conscience. ‘Very well, I will help you. But with one condition: I’m not having any of your wild horse antics, so no trotting, cantering, bucking, falling off.’

  ‘I promise to keep Lucifer to a walk—though I’m sure it will rain later, and if we do not hurry we are likely to get a soaking. If we don’t get struck by lightning first...’

  She looked across the valley to where the thunderclouds were building once more over the western hills, as they had done nearly every day for the past week. ‘Yes, you are right.’ She began walking back towards the manor with him. ‘Those clouds are very dark and the air is heavy with the promise of rain already.’

  Sir Richard wiped his brow with the sleeve of his shirt. ‘It has been so damn hot and sticky lately.’

  ‘It is wonderful to finally get rain after such a long, dry summer. I was beginning to think the drought would never break.’

  ‘At least the farmers will have one less excuse for not paying their taxes on time,’ he muttered. ‘They are forever coming up with reasons why they have not been earning anything and can’t afford it. The year was too wet, the year was too dry, the crops got blight, the wool prices were too low, the ale prices were too high… The way they carry on, you would think they were working for nothing!’

  They had now reached the front of the manor, where Lucifer stood tethered, patiently waiting for his rider.

  Rowena continued up the steps to the grand entrance. ‘I’ll just go in and let someone know where I am going,’ she called over her shoulder as she went inside.

  She headed straight to the kitchen, where Mistress Pedley was almost always to be found toiling, red-faced from the heat of the fire that was always burning.

  ‘Sir Richard needs me to ride over to Dovers Dell at once, so please tell Lady Cunningham where I have gone and that I’ll be back later today!’ she called to Mistress Pedley from the doorway, before turning and hurrying back towards the main door.

  The cook looked up from the brace of birds she was butchering. ‘Very good, Rowena—though remember what her ladyship said this morning ’bout getting back early today so that…’ But her words faded as Rowena disappeared out the door, her mind firmly fixed on the task ahead of her.

  A few moments later, Rowena was standing on Stoatley’s front steps nervously looking at the mighty Lucifer.

  ‘Sit with a leg on either side of him this time,’ Sir Richard briskly instructed her. ‘I will lift you on first,’ he continued, ‘then I’ll mount myself.’

  Before she could answer, he had put one arm around her waist and the other under her knees and lifted her off the ground. She gasped as he swung her high into the air as though she was no heavier than a child’s doll, before placing her carefully down on Lucifer’s broad back.

  He then quickly gathered up the reins and mounted, agilely swinging his leg up over Lucifer’s neck in order to avoid hitting Rowena, and set off down the road at a brisk walk.

  After an uneventful two-hour ride, Rowena and Sir Richard finally neared Dovers Dell. To begin with, Rowena had been terrified of falling off. But she was now so stiff and sore that all she could think of was reaching their destination as soon as possible so she could dismount.

  At the sound of Lucifer’s clattering hooves approaching, all the dogs in the hamlet began barking furiously. But when the heavily wooded path finally revealed the ramshackle collection of thatched huts and hovels, there was no one to be seen. Riding down the main road through Dovers Dell, the place seemed like a ghost town.

  ‘That’s strange,’ said Sir Richard. ‘Last time I was here with my men everyone came out to gawp at us. I wonder where they have all gone...’

  ‘They can’t have gone far; the chimneys are smoking, and look,’ she pointed, ‘there are children’s toys lying on the ground near that cottage as if they were left only moments ago.’

  As they came closer, the sound of a crying infant could clearly be heard. From another hovel a crash sounded, sending the flock of chickens scratching in the dirt outside it into squawks of alarm.

  Sir Richard fingered his sword nervously. ‘There are obviously still people here. I will dismount and knock on the door of this shack.’

  ‘No,’ said Rowena, ‘I think the people are hiding because they are afraid. Let me go while you wait here.’

  ‘But you are unarmed! If you go alone, you will be helpless if things get hostile.’

  ‘The only reason we have come all this way is so that I can try to talk to them. If they are afraid, they will not say anything and our journey will have been in vain.’

  ‘Very well… But I will stay close by. If there is any danger, retreat immediately. I’ve got enough troubles already without having to try to think of a good way of telling Lord Cunningham that his niece was stabbed to death in some revolting hovel in a remote village while I waited outside.’

  Rowena smoothed the wrinkled skirt of her dress. ‘Yes, yes, I get it!’ She then walked cautiously up the muddy path leading to the hovel’s rickety door. ‘Good day,’ she called out. ‘Is anyone home?’

  There was no reply, although she could still hear the baby crying.

  She knocked on the door. ‘Is there anyone in there?’ We are not going to hurt you. I merely want to talk with you.’

  The crude wooden door had such large gaps between its rough planks that she could see inside. But, although the dwelling was well lit by the sunlight shining in through the many cracks and holes in it, she could not see anyone. The baby’s screams seemed to be coming from near the door, the only place that she could not see.

  ‘Would you like me to kick the door in for you?’ Sir Richard offered graciously.

  ‘No thank you. You just stay out of this.’ Rowena knocked again. ‘Please open the door.’

  She heard a few low whispers from inside, then a few moments later the protesting screech of a bolt being slowly drawn open.

  The door creaked open a fraction.

  ‘Thank you. Please, may I talk to you?’

 
The door finally opened and a young woman holding a baby in her arms stepped out.

  Rowena smiled and held out her hand. ‘Greetings, friend. My name is Rowena, and I have come here to help find Mary.’

  The woman slowly extended a thin arm and clasped the offered hand weakly. ‘I am Phoebe.’

  ‘We are here to try and find the maidens who have gone missing. Do you know anything at all that might help us find Mary or the twins that were taken two months ago?’

  Phoebe stared at Rowena, her hazel eyes round with fear, but did not reply.

  ‘What are you so afraid of?’ asked Rowena. ‘I promise nothing bad will happen to you or anyone in Dovers Dell if you tell us what you know.’

  The woman jerked her head in Sir Richard’s direction. ‘Are you with ’im?’

  ‘In a manner of speaking, but you have nothing to fear from him. He just wants to find the maidens.’

  ‘How do I know what you’re saying’s true?’

  ‘If you don’t want the sheriff to know what it is you know, I won’t tell him.’

  Phoebe silently considered Rowena’s words for a few moments before speaking. ‘We was told by some armed men that were here before Mary were taken that they was working for Sir Richard. They said if we complained about it or told anyone else he would come back ’ere in the dead of night and torch our houses while we was sleeping inside ’

  Rowena could hardly believe what she was hearing. ‘Surely you don’t believe the sheriff would do something so terrible?’

  ‘Well, ’e is a shifty-looking sod, that’s for sure.’

  ‘Just a moment, Phoebe,’ said a worriedly frowning Rowena. ‘I need to ask the sheriff about this.’ She walked back to where Sir Richard was waiting. ‘This woman says that the men who kidnapped Mary told the folk here that they worked for you, and that if they told anyone else about it, you would come back here and kill them.’

  ‘Good God! You don’t believe it, do you?’