by Ann Swinfen
‘Sometimes I think Jonathan likes to scare himself, and you as well, by making up such stories. On the road I believe I saw eight – nay, perhaps it was nine – farmers, busy about their work. And there was one fine gentleman with his attendants. Banbury is a small town, smaller than Oxford and with no university. It has bakers like Jonathan’s father, and blacksmiths, and butchers, and tailors, and shops like the Oxford shops, and all sorts of folk, but I saw never an outlaw or a wild man.’
‘Still,’ she said, yawning, ‘I am glad you are come back.’
I patted the lump under the covers that was her shoulder. ‘So am I.’
When I went back to the kitchen, Margaret looked up from her sewing. ‘Are they settled?’
‘Aye, Alysoun was waiting up for me, but she will sleep now.’
I decided not to mention Jonathan’s fears of wild men, it would only turn her more against him.
‘And so how did you fare in Banbury?’
I sat down opposite her and peeled off my boots. I was ready for my own bed, but she deserved some account of my day, so I told her briefly about Mistress Preston.
‘You are right to advise her to sell her lace and braid here in Oxford,’ she said. ‘I cannot imagine it will fetch much in a small place like Banbury. And did you then come straight back?’
‘Nay, I called at Godstow Abbey, to see William’s cousin, the novice Sister Benedicta.’
She shook her head. ‘That is a bad business, from what Maud Farringdon tells me. Is the girl resigned to the cloister?’
‘Nay,’ I said slowly, ‘I should say that she is not. However, she has made a great deal clear that we did not understand about William.’
I repeated again all that I had told Jordain of what Emma Thorgold had explained to me.
‘And the missing book is safely hidden away in Godstow Abbey!’ Margaret said. ‘No one would think to look there. But what shall you do? Can you return it to Merton?’
‘Jordain and I will discuss that tomorrow, but I am uncertain. If I return it quietly to Merton, it will fall, certainly, into Olney’s hands, as keeper of their books. What is to stop the whole fraud being undertaken once again? If I deliver it to Allard Basset, he will probably accuse me of having stolen it. I could give it directly into the Warden’s hands, that might be best, but it would leave the question of William’s murder still unsolved. I am too tired to think tonight.’
I got up and stretched. ‘I can feel my unaccustomed riding muscles seizing up already. Was all well in the shop today?’
‘Aye. I believe Mistress Lapley came calling again, to ask about her book.’
I groaned. ‘Her custom is welcome, but she is surely the most tiresome of my customers. Anything else?’
‘The Fellow of Gloucester College came asking about the bestiary, but Walter told him it was already sold to Merton. I believe he was quite angry.’
‘I am sure Walter was able to deal with him. Let Master Caundish take it up with Olney. I am off, before I fall asleep standing up, like a horse.’
She rolled up her sewing and set it aside. ‘I have only to cover the fire. The bread is already proving. God give you goodnight, Nicholas.’
‘And you, Meg.’
The following morning, as I had feared, I was stiff from my long ride, but I could make no excuses. My accounts, begun a week ago, would not wait any longer. It was not only Merton which owed me money. However, Roger was making good progress with his collection of tales, and the three of us spent some time discussing what full-page illuminations each tale should have. I knew that Roger’s illustrations would be competent, if a little stiff, and I could not help wondering what Emma Thorgold would have drawn. She had a freedom and skill Roger would never match. With a few lines she could catch the likeness of a leaping hare or the infant Jesus sleeping in his mother’s arms.
Walter too had made progress, writing down his first attempt at two more of his mother’s tales, so I sat with him, going through each and making nothing but small suggestions. As he gained in confidence his pen flowed more freely. Altogether I managed to avoid my accounts until nearly dinner time, although I wrote out two more overdue stationery bills, one for Queen’s College, and one for Durham College. I was annoyed with myself, for I had been close to Durham yesterday and might have saved myself an extra journey.
Just as we were closing the shop for dinner, one of Henry Stalbroke’s apprentices put his head through the open window.
‘Maister says your book be ready, Maister Elyot,’ he said. ‘You may collect it any time you wish.’
I thanked him, and Roger jumped to his feet. ‘I can fetch it, Master Elyot. Anything, to send Mistress Lapley on her way!’
‘I think I will go myself, Roger, for I have other business on Bookbinders Island, and it will leave you free to copy more of the collection of tales. I am eager to see it finished. However, you may have the pleasure of delivering the completed book of Robin Hood to the lady yourself. I would not deny you that satisfaction.’
Roger laughed. It was a rare occurrence, and transformed him.
When the men had left for Tackley’s Inn to dine, I joined the rest of the family in the kitchen.
‘Jordain has promised to take dinner with the Farringdons at the Cross Inn today,’ I said, after I had spoken the blessing over our meal. ‘Afterwards, he will come here and we will confer on what is best to do.’
‘Best to do about what, Papa?’ Alysoun asked, speaking round a hearty spoonful of braised mutton.
‘Mind your manners,’ Margaret said. ‘Do not speak with your mouth full.’
Rafe was concentrating on eating as rapidly as possible, in case there was a chance of a second helping. He had put on a spurt of growth lately.
Alysoun chewed and swallowed, then repeated her question. ‘What must you and Cousin Jordain confer about? You are never in the shop these days.’
‘Nothing that you need worry about, my maid,’ I said. ‘Some business we have in hand. We must decide on the best way to proceed.’
‘You are not going away again are you?’ There was a slight note of panic in her voice, so I reached across the table and squeezed her hand.
‘I am going nowhere. Or at least nowhere further than Godstow Abbey, but that will not be for some time yet. I shall not need to go to Banbury again.’
‘Did you ride to Banbury, Papa?’ Rafe asked, chasing the last drop of gravy round his bowl with his spoon.
‘Indeed I did. I could never have walked there and back in a day.’
‘Will you teach me to ride soon?’
‘Aye, you must learn, and Alysoun must practice, but it is not so easy in Oxford. When next we visit Grandmama at the farm will be best.’
We were finishing our dinner, with small sweet pastries that Margaret had made with the currants she dried last summer and some of the dried apple rings, when Jordain arrived and I took him out into the garden where we would not be overheard.
‘Alysoun is beginning to take a little too much interest in this business of ours,’ I said. ‘I want to keep her well away from it all.’
‘Oh, I am sure she will be safe enough,’ Jordain said, sitting on the bench and stretching out his legs. ‘The Cross Inn was put on its mettle today, for one of the Bishop of Lincoln’s canons is staying there. They produced a very acceptable dinner.’
He closed his eyes and looked as though he might be about to fall asleep after his acceptable dinner, but I poked him in the ribs.
‘I have a possible plan,’ I said.
He opened one eye. ‘You have thought how we might return the Psalter to Merton?’
‘Not yet. I have a mind to set a trap for our two rogues.’
He sat up. ‘Since we do not know who they are, or where they are, I cannot see how we can trap them.’
‘If you were a shepherd, whose flock had been worried by a wolf,’ I said, ‘and you did not know where to find him, what would you do? You could scour the whole countryside, but you could not be sure
you would find him, so what then?’
‘I am in no mood for riddles, Nicholas.’
‘You would tether a lamb in some convenient spot to tempt the wolf to come to you, then you would lie in wait, with your bow strung, and shoot him when he arrived.’
‘If he did not kill the lamb first. What meaning does your riddle have for our two-legged wolves?’
‘Now that I know where the Psalter is, I can trail that information, like the baited lamb, and see whether it draws the wolves.’
‘You’ll not reveal its whereabouts!’
‘Nay, merely let it be known that I know where to lay my hands on it. No need to mention Godstow at all.’
He looked dubious. ‘It might draw in the wolves, but with yourself as bait, you might be slaughtered like the unfortunate lamb.’
‘They would not kill me until they had discovered what I know.’
‘I do not think I like the sound of this, Nicholas. It could be very dangerous. They have killed once already.’
‘Only when their plans went awry and they were threatened. And I have more to the plan than this. They need the book, but they also need a new copyist. Who better than an accomplished scrivener with a grudge against his master for not paying him well enough?’
‘This may all be very clear to you,’ he said, ‘but I find it very opaque.’
‘Roger has the very face of a disgruntled man,’ I said, warming to my plan, now that I was making it clear even to myself. ‘How if he were to complain – in his cups, say, at one or two taverns – that he is in urgent need of money? If word spreads, our rogues are bound to hear of it. Oxford is not such a large town. Sister Benedicta believes William was approached after he had been heard talking about his urgent need for money.’
‘At the Swindlestock Tavern. Was that not what she thought?’
‘Aye, exactly. A large tavern at the very centre of Oxford, on Carfax,’ I said. ‘Perfect for spreading the word. A perfect place to tether our lamb. One of our lambs.’
‘Do you think Roger would do it?’
‘I am sure of it. He is thirsty for action. Remember how he broke his wrist playing football? Fortunately his left wrist, so not a permanent impediment to his work. He often grows restless.’
‘Even if you were to trail your bait, both yourself with your knowledge of the Psalter’s hiding place and Roger as a scribe eager to earn an illicit fee, how would that serve to catch the two rogues?’
‘I have not quite thought that through yet,’ I admitted. ‘Should we take this to the sheriff and bespeak his assistance in catching these men?’
‘Do you even think he would heed you? A knight? A king’s officer? And you a bookish Oxford tradesman? I am not being unkind, Nicholas, but I think he would laugh in your face.’
‘Perhaps you are right,’ I said gloomily, slumping down with my elbows on my knees and my chin on my fists.
‘I suppose,’ he said slowly, ‘we could recruit my students. Some of them come from gentry families and know how to handle a sword. They could be at hand whenever these wolves made an approach either to you or to Roger. But I should fail in my responsibility to them if I put them in danger.’
‘Aye.’ I sighed. ‘I must think on it further. But these men must be feeling some desperation. They now have neither the Psalter nor the first pages of William’s copy. Sooner or later, the disappearance of the Psalter from Merton will be discovered.’
‘Why do we not simply go to the Warden of Merton and hand him the Psalter? It would be safely returned, and the man Olney’s part in it exposed.’
‘Somehow Olney must be exposed, I agree. But if we were to follow that course, the two men who killed William would slip away, unpunished. We cannot let that happen. We set our feet on this path to find justice for William, not to recover a book Merton has been careless enough to mislay. Let us not lose sight of that.’
‘You are right, of course,’ he said. ‘Well, let us give your plan more thought before we act. Did you not say that you were going to see Dafydd Hewlyn this afternoon?’
‘Aye. I want to make sure that the parchment I found at the old mill was indeed part of the same quarter ream he sold those men. It must be. I cannot imagine that it is not, but I should look a fool should it turn out not to be the same.’
‘I am sure it comes from the same batch, but you are right to speak to Dafydd. Though it’s a long walk after your exertions yesterday!’
I laughed. ‘I must also collect a book from the binder and pay him. And it is a perfect excuse to avoid spending any more time today on my accounts.’
‘My accounts are simple enough,’ he said ruefully. ‘I have a small box of coin at the beginning of term containing the students’ fees for their keep. When I have paid the rent, all I must do is divide the rest by the weeks of the term, and that is the money I have for buying food. Very simple.’
I set off for Bookbinders Island as soon as Jordain had left, and went first to Dafydd Hewlyn.
‘Aye, that is part of the same batch,’ he said, hardly needing to glance at it, ‘the parchment I sold to those two men. Where did you find this?’
‘In the place where I believe the copying was being done,’ I said. ‘I thought it was the same, but I have not your expert eye.’
‘Have you found those scoundrels yet?’
‘Not yet.’
‘My journeyman,’ he said, jerking his head toward the drying green, ‘thinks he saw them in the Swindlestock Tavern, Saturday evening.’
‘Did he indeed! That is useful to know. Men are creatures of habit and tend to have their favourite drinking places.’
‘If you catch them, I’d be glad to hear of it. I do not spend long hours making parchment for it to be misused.’
‘I will certainly send you word.’
At the bookbinder’s workshop, Henry Stalbroke handed me the neat little book his journeyman Thomas Needham had made of Roger’s pages. He had tooled the cover, front and back, with a pattern of swirling lines, and imprinted the title on front and spine in gilt letters. The edges of the pages were delicately tinted crimson, and the binding was firm, but not too stiff for a woman’s hands.
‘Excellent work, Thomas,’ I said. ‘Henry must keep a watch, or you’ll be setting up to rival him.’
I handed him a half noble on top of the fee, in thanks. He smiled modestly.
‘I have a lot still to learn, Master Elyot. Master Stalbroke has nothing to fear from me.’
I turned to Henry Stalbroke. ‘Do you still have the book of hours you showed me when last I was here? The one from Godstow?’
‘Aye,’ he said. ‘They have not yet collected it or sent for it.’
‘May I look at it again? I thought the illuminations were very fine.’
‘The novice has a good eye,’ he agreed, and handed down the small book from a shelf.
I examined it more closely this time, having met the artist.
The text was written in an elegant hand. When you work with scriveners as closely as I do, men who must master a number of different letter forms and be able to lay out a page of text that is not only clear and legible but elegant to look upon, you learn to judge how easily they write. This was the hand of someone who wrote swiftly but with the lightest of touches, so that the words flowed across the page as smoothly as the lines of her drawings.
Above all, these drawings were worth a careful examination. I had been struck by their skill before, but I now saw more of the humour. A little dog lay at the Virgin’s feet in the annunciation scene, ignoring the angel and rolling on his back, asking to be petted. During the flight into Egypt, the Holy Family passed a coney warren, whose inhabitants grazed and frolicked, all except one, who had hopped on to the back of the donkey and joined the journey.
In one of the interleaved pages, which stood for the month of April, signalled by a very English downpour, the artist had enjoyed herself depicting the procession of animals into the Ark. I particularly liked the unicorn hesitating at the b
ase of the ramp and looking anxiously over his shoulder at his mate, who was frolicking in a flowery meadow and was clearly about to be left behind.
I handed the book back to Henry. ‘I suppose this is for the use of the sisters at Godstow.’
‘They have not said. As you know, some monasteries augment their income by making books for secular buyers. Godstow has not done so before, but now that they have this talent, they may do so.’
‘If they wish to sell this book, I might buy it,’ I said, feigning a carelessness which did not deceive Henry for a moment.
‘I will ask,’ he said.
By walking briskly I reached home before Walter had closed the shop, and handed the French Robin Hood to Roger. Like any lover of books, he caressed the smooth leather of the binding.
‘They have made a fine job of it,’ he said.
I smiled. ‘It is always good – is it not? – when all that hard work of writing pages is turned into a solid book which will last for generations. You can be proud of that. Now, off with you and take it to the impatient Mistress Lapley, but do not let it out of your hands until either she or Master Lapley has paid for it. I have spent a great deal on it already.’
Roger hurried off, looking contented for once, and Walter and I exchanged smiles.
‘It has taken time,’ Walter said, ‘but I think at last he is learning to take a pride in his work, instead of seeing it as drudgery.’
‘You have the right of it,’ I said. ‘We must find him interesting tasks, though he must still take his share of writing out peciae, and not leave it all to you.’
I was glad of a quiet evening after my long journey of the previous day, and I needed time to think how to implement my plan for tempting the two scoundrels out into the open. If Dafydd Hewlyn’s journeyman had indeed seen them in the Swindlestock Tavern on Saturday, that seemed a good place to make a start. Tomorrow I would test Roger’s reaction to playing the disgruntled scribe in a tavern or two. I was less sure how I was to spread word that I knew the whereabouts of the Irish Psalter, or how we might apprehend the men if they did show their faces. I would sleep on it.