‘It was you who told us where King William was.’
‘I begin to wish that I hadn't.’
‘Then why did you confirm it by watching him arrive?’ said Madog with a knowing smile. ‘I see your position, Archdeacon. As a priest, you can never condone violence; as a Welshman, you long for his death as fervently as the rest of us.’
‘That's untrue!’ denied Abraham over the shouts of approval. ‘I would not condone this under any circumstances, Madog. It is sinful. It is criminal. And what is more, it is doomed to failure.’
‘Not if it is carefully planned.’
‘You would never be allowed near the King. He is protected by an entire garrison. What can a handful of men do against them? You are up against impossible odds, Madog.’
‘That's why you must help us.’
‘Never!’
‘It's your duty. Think what this monster has done to our country. That land in the Westbury Hundred is only a fraction of the territory which has been stolen from us and occupied by foreigners. Why fight in the shire hall for a few hides of land when you can help to reclaim the whole of Wales?’ A cheer went up from the men. ‘It's no coincidence that we are here at the same time as the King. It is destiny.’
‘Then it is one I reject,’ said Abraham firmly.
Madog tapped his chest. ‘One man is all that it will take.’
‘Go home. Forget this nonsense.’
‘One man, Archdeacon. Inside the castle at night. All I need to know is where the King will be sleeping.’ He saw the question which formed in the other's eyes. ‘How can you find out? It is easy. The commissioners lodge at the castle. They will know which apartment the King occupies. Talk to them. Then find a means to look inside the castle in order to make a plan of it. Send the information to me.’
‘It would be pointless.’
‘Let me worry about that.’
‘The King is guarded day and night.’
‘Find out where he sleeps.’
‘No, Madog,’ said Abraham staunchly. ‘I will not do this.’
The others converged on him to form a menacing circle.
‘Do you have any choice?’ said Madog.
* * *
Strang the Dane was in as fiery a mood as ever at the shire hall. With Balki at his side, he directed his anger at Nigel the Reeve.
‘A delay?’ said Strang. ‘A further delay?’
‘How many times must I tell you?’ asked Nigel.
‘I want a resolution today.’
‘We all do, Strang. I want the commissioners out of my city so that I can get on with running it properly. They have caused far too much commotion here and I want them on their way.’
‘Then order them to do their appointed duty.’
‘I wish that I could.’
‘Make them, Nigel. Force them to come back here.’
‘They do not recognise my authority,’ said the reeve frostily.
‘Then petition the sheriff. Let him call them to account.’
‘Royal commissioners answer solely to the King, I fear. They will only sit in session when they are good and ready, Strang. It is annoying, I know, but there's no remedy. You must wait.’
‘But I can't. I have a shipment of iron ore leaving soon.’
‘That is irrelevant.’
‘Not to me,’ said Strang hotly, ‘so don't be high and mighty with me. This is my livelihood. I must be aboard that boat.’
‘Then leave Balki to deal with the commissioners.’
‘I want to see justice done with my own eyes. Besides, I will need Balki to sail with me. We cannot cool our heels here because the royal commissioners are too lazy to do their job.’
Nigel tried to silence him but the reeve's supercilious tone only enraged the Dane further. He was yelling at the top of his voice when one of his rivals rode up on his horse. Hamelin of Lisieux was mildly amused.
‘Oh!’ he said. ‘It is Strang the Dane. I mistook you for a fishwife, haggling over her prices. Good day, Nigel.’
‘Good day, my lord,’ returned the other politely.
‘Have you heard the news?’ growled Strang.
‘Heard it and accepted it,’ said Hamelin. ‘The law is a snail, my friend. It crawls very slowly. I would have preferred this business to have been resolved by now but the snail has a little distance to go it seems.’
‘I'd like to crush its shell under my foot.’
‘Be patient.’
‘How can I be? I must leave Gloucester very soon.’
‘Take my advice and depart right now,’ said Hamelin easily, ‘for you will avoid humiliation that way. My claim obliterates all others. You are wasting your time by challenging it.’
‘We do not think so, my lord,’ said Balki.
‘Your opinion has no validity.’
‘Yes, it does. As the commissioners will show.’
‘If and when we ever see them again!’ grumbled Strang. ‘There's no sense in staying here. You know where to find me, Nigel. Make it soon.’
With his reeve in attendance, Strang stalked off down the street.
‘A pleasant fellow!’ said Hamelin.
‘I am glad to see the back of him, my lord.’
‘Did you tell him the cause of the delay?’
‘Of course not,’ said Nigel. ‘It would only have fed his anger the more to learn that the commissioners had put his concerns aside to turn their attention elsewhere. Besides, I only confide in friends, my lord.’
‘I am glad that I am one of them.’
‘The best.’
‘Thank you. How did the others receive the news?’
‘Neither was pleased but none were as malevolent as Strang. I wish they could all have accepted the delay with the good grace you showed.’
‘Unlike them, I am in no hurry.’
Nigel grinned. ‘Unlike them, you foresee the verdict.’
‘There is that,’ said Hamelin casually. ‘What word from the castle? The King arrived last night, I hear. Do we know to what purpose?’
‘Not yet, my lord.’
‘Let me know what you learn.’
‘Instantly.’
‘And what about these public-spirited commissioners? Are they really looking for a missing boy instead of sitting in judgement here? What is wrong with Abbot Serlo?’ he said artlessly. ‘He used to have such a strong grip. Not any more. First he loses a monk. Now a novice. If he is not careful, the whole abbey will float away from him.’
After returning the borrowed key to the porter, Ralph and Gervase hoped to speak to the abbot but the latter was otherwise engaged. Canon Hubert explained to them why Serlo could not be disturbed.
‘He is in the chapter-house,’ he said sonorously. ‘Chapter is normally the time when the temporal business of the abbey is discussed but, for obvious reasons, that has been postponed. Abbot Serlo is addressing the monks about the worrying disappearance of Owen.’
‘We have some news for him on that score,’ said Gervase. ‘Ralph and I visited a locksmith in the city. He recalls making a duplicate key for a man who sounds very much like Brother Nicholas.’
‘But you never met Brother Nicholas.’
‘I did,’ said Ralph. ‘Unfortunately, he was lying naked on a slab in the mortuary so his conversation was limited. But we're certain it was him. He paid the locksmith out of a satchel filled with the rent he'd collected. And this happened at precisely the time when he had the abbot's key in his possession.’
‘So far, our guesswork is accurate,’ said Gervase.
‘That will reassure Abbot Serlo greatly,’ said Hubert, ‘and I fear that he is in need of reassurance. In a private moment with me, he confessed how this latest crime had wounded him to the heart. It was lucky that I was there to offer succour.’
‘Yes,’ teased Ralph, ‘it must have been very comforting for him to know that he had the leader of the murder investigation at his side.’
‘A misunderstanding, my lord.’
‘I wond
er how it arose?’
‘Not from anything I said, I assure you.’
They were standing near the abbey gatehouse in bright sunshine but they were far too preoccupied either to note or enjoy the fine weather. The fate of an innocent young boy was at the forefront of their minds. Ralph did not pursue the taunting of his adipose colleague.
‘There's something else you may tell the abbot,’ he said seriously. ‘We believe that the lad may still be in the city.’
‘What makes you think that?’ asked Hubert.
‘We spoke to the sentries at the gates. Nobody left Gloucester during the night. Owen must have been kept here. If his captor tries to smuggle him out, he will not find it easy. Eyes are peeled at every gate.’
‘That is good to hear, my lord.’
‘I have deployed my own men in a thorough search for the boy. It will be a difficult task in a place this size but they will knock on as many doors as they can. Someone may have seen something in the night.’
‘Could not the sheriff's officers help?’
‘I prefer to work independently of Durand,’ said Ralph. ‘He does not take kindly to unsolicited help.’
‘But it has been solicited. By the abbot and by Bishop Wulfstan.’
‘Have the boy's parents been told yet?’ asked Gervase.
‘No,’ said Hubert. ‘I counselled against it.’
‘Very wise. It might only inflict unnecessary suffering on them. Do they live in Gloucester itself?’
‘A few miles away, Gervase.’
‘Then they will not pick up any gossip in the city.’
‘That would be the worst possible way to find out,’ said Ralph. ‘Well, we know how the kidnapper got in and out of the abbey. But where is he hiding the boy? More to the point, is Owen still alive?’
‘I hope so,’ sighed Gervase.
Hubert was more positive. ‘I'm certain of it. When I was alone with the abbot, he confessed something he had been too frightened to put into words before. The thought has haunted him ever since the first of the novices was taken from the abbey.’
‘What thought is that, Canon Hubert?’
‘Abbot Serlo tried to dismiss it from his mind when Siward went. He almost persuaded himself that the boy must have run away. It was a less disturbing interpretation to put on the facts. Dena's disappearance made that notion untenable.’
‘What are you talking about?’ pressed Ralph.
‘The abduction of Owen. The abbot knows why he was taken.’
‘Does he?’
‘Bishop Wulfstan agrees with him. But, then, the bishop has been campaigning against it for many years.’
‘Against what?’
‘The kidnapping of young boys. It is not only this abbey which has suffered. All over this county there have been strange disappearances.’
‘To what end, Hubert?’
‘Monetary gain.’
‘The boys are sold?’
‘I fear so, my lord. We have stumbled upon a slave trade.’
Surprised to be told that she had another visitor, Golde was even more astonished when she found Abraham the Priest waiting for her at the castle gate. He introduced himself and explained his predicament.
‘I am sorry to disturb you, my lady,’ he said, ‘but I need to speak with your husband as a matter of great urgency.’
‘He is not here, I fear.’
‘I know that but I hoped you could tell me where he was.’
‘Could not the reeve do that? He is answerable to my husband.’
‘Nigel the Reeve has been less than helpful. All he would say was that the commissioners had suspended their deliberations. No reason was given. We were simply informed of the decision.’
‘Then my advice would be to accept it,’ said Golde warily. ‘My husband will not thank you for badgering him about your claim. The place to do that is in the shire hall.’
‘This is nothing to do with my claim,’ he said with passion. ‘I must apprise him of something else. And quickly. Please tell me where he is. I have met the lord Ralph and I know that I can trust him.’ He glanced towards the keep. ‘I am not sure that I could say the same of the sheriff.’
Golde could hear the sincerity in his voice and knew that he would not come in search of her husband on a trifling matter. She tried to help.
‘The truth is that I don't rightly know where he is,’ she said.
His shoulders sagged. ‘Oh, I see.’
‘What I can tell you is this. My husband was summoned to the abbey in the early hours of the morning. Some crisis has blown up there, it seems. If you really must track him down, the abbey would be the best place to start.’
‘Thank you, my lady. Thank you very much.’
The Archdeacon of Gwent strode off through the gate and left her wondering what had put the arrowheads of concern in his brow. She was about to turn away when horses came trotting into the bailey. Four men-at-arms were escorting a woman of such beauty that every eye was immediately turned to her. When she saw Golde, she nudged her horse across to her and flashed a brilliant smile.
‘Good morning,’ she said brightly. ‘I am calling on the lady Maud.’
‘I am just about to return to her myself.’
‘Then I will accompany you, if I may. You must be a guest here.’
‘Yes, my lady. My husband is one of the royal commissioners visiting Gloucester. His name is Ralph Delchard.’
‘Then I know him. I met him at the shire hall when my own husband appeared there to substantiate a claim. You are fortunate. Ralph Delchard is a proper man in every sense.’ She beamed regally. ‘I am the lady Emma, wife to Hamelin of Lisieux. I am sure that your husband must have mentioned me.’
‘Of course,’ said Golde with convincing honesty.
But it was a lie which smouldered at the back of her mind.
Brother Paul was lenient. Showing a compassion they did not know he possessed, the Master of the Novices released both Elaf and Kenelm from their lessons that morning in the belief that they needed time to recover from the horrors they had witnessed. It was a welcome change of heart. When he confessed that he had left the dormitory at night once more, Kenelm expected to be flogged by Brother Paul. Instead, he was free to wander in the garden with his friend but it gave him no discernible joy. He remained distrait. Elaf was concerned about him.
‘You look ill, Kenelm.’
‘I feel ill.’
‘Go to the Infirmary. Seek a remedy.’
‘My illness cannot be cured with a herbal compound, Elaf. It's not my body that is sick. It's my mind.’
‘Do those terrible thoughts still come?’
‘They are worse since last night. I fear so for Owen.’
‘So do I, Kenelm.’
‘I feel so guilty that I laughed at him now.’
Elaf nodded. ‘What I cannot understand is why he went to the cemetery in the first place. And at night.’
‘It was the only time when he wouldn't be seen.’
‘Doing what?’
‘Can't you guess? He was going to pay his respects.’
‘To Brother Nicholas?’ said Elaf in wonderment. ‘Why?’
Kenelm stared at him to make sure that he could trust him, then he looked around to ensure that there were no eavesdroppers. With a hand on his friend's shoulder, he led him deeper into the garden.
‘Nobody must know this, Elaf.’
‘You can rely on me.’
‘Can I?’
‘Of course.’
‘Swear it.’
‘I do, Kenelm!’
‘I didn't even tell this to Brother Owl and the others.’
‘Not even to Bishop Wulfstan?’
‘Most of all to him. He frightens me. He is so saintly.’
‘Bishop Wulfstan inspires me,’ said Elaf. ‘But what's this secret you kept from them? Was it something that happened last night?’
‘No, yesterday.’
‘Go on.’
‘I slipped away t
o be alone.’
‘Yes, I know, Kenelm. I looked for you everywhere.’
‘I was in no mood for company,’ explained the other, ‘so I sought a hiding place. Over by the Infirmary. But someone followed me.’
‘Owen?’
‘Yes, Elaf.’
‘Why?’
‘He wanted to talk about Brother Nicholas. Don't ask why he chose me but he did. If I'd known it was the last time I'd ever speak to him, I'd have listened more carefully.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘He was saying something important.’
‘About what?’
‘Why he liked Brother Nicholas. Yes, I know, we hated him and so did the other novices. I think the only one of the monks who could bear to be near him was Brother Owl.’
‘He puts up with anybody.’ A half-smile came. ‘Even us.’
‘Yes, even us. He's been a friend.’
‘Tell me about Owen.’
‘He and Brother Nicholas were closer than we thought.’
‘Is that what Owen told you?’
‘Not in so many words,’ said Kenelm, ‘but that's what it amounted to. How and when they met, I'm not sure, but they obviously did or they couldn't have developed a bond between them. That's what it was, Elaf. A bond. Like the one between us.’
‘But we spend all day together.’
‘It makes no difference.’
‘It does, Kenelm. We're both novices. We're the same age, we have the same interests. It's, well … it's sort of natural. Brother Nicholas was a monk. He was much older than Owen. What could they possibly have in common?’
‘That's what I've been thinking about.’
‘Did Owen say what it was?’
‘He hinted at it, Elaf. What he did last night proves it. I mean, it takes bravery to go in among those gravestones in the dark. I didn't have it. I ran away. But Owen had it. And I know who he got it from.’
‘Who?’
‘Brother Nicholas.’
Elaf frowned. ‘From this bond they had between them?’
‘Yes. If I'd heard this a few days ago, I'd have sniggered as loud as anyone, but not now. What happened to both of them has made me show a little more respect. Brother Nicholas was murdered. Owen was taken away by someone. They deserve respect, Elaf.’
‘I know.’
‘Well, don't laugh when I tell you why Owen went to the cemetery last night. Do you promise?’
The Owls of Gloucester (Domesday Series Book 10) Page 21