The Rufford Rose

by Margaret Lambert

  ‘No, my lord. We were quite often asked to make such things when I lived in Chester.’

  ‘We?’

  ‘I was taken into the household of Abel Carter, Master Carver, after the death of my parents. My father was a carver before me and I became apprenticed to Master Carter. He taught me all I know.’

  ‘He was a good teacher,’ said Lord Derby, ‘and you were a willing and very able pupil. Skill like this cannot be taught, you have to have a special gift for work of such exceptional quality.’

  Cuthbert wasn’t sure how to respond to such effusive praise, so he kept silent. The distinguished guest continued to examine the chest from all sides. When he stood up he turned to Abbot Paslew.

  ‘Is this young man bound in any way to the Abbey?’ he asked.

  ‘No, my lord. He came to us on the recommendation of one of the brothers who had seen his work in the Abbey Church of St Werburgh. He has served this Abbey diligently and with great skill. There are many examples of his work here.’

  ‘Indeed? Let me see. Cuthbert, show me what you have done.’

  Surprised, Cuthbert led a small entourage round the various parts of the Abbey complex, pointing out his work. Normally he would have been embarrassed to do so but he somehow felt that there was some unknown purpose behind this great lord’s actions. Finally they reached the Abbey church and he led them to the choir stalls and the first of his creations.

  ‘Father Abbot set me a test when I first came,’ he said, ‘to see whether my work was worthy of such a great place. This is what I did.’

  He pointed to the floor and the worthy gentleman looked puzzled, but when Cuthbert knelt down, he followed and looked where he was pointing. It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust but when they did, he gasped and called for candles. For several minutes he looked, felt and caressed the little mice before clambering to his feet and, without a word, he walked out of the church. Once outside he made his way to the cloister and sat on one of the stone seats against the wall, still without saying a word. Everyone else was standing nearby wondering what all this was leading to.

  Eventually he got to his feet, beckoned to the Abbot and together they went back to the Abbot’s house, leaving everyone else behind.

  ‘Well,’ said one of the Derby servants, ‘it’s not often my lord is speechless.’

  ‘Is that good or bad?’ asked Cuthbert.

  ‘Depends,’ said another man, and smiled.

  Cuthbert wasn’t sure what he should do. Stay, or return to the work he had been doing? He turned to go and was halfway across the cloister before a voice called him back. It was one of the men who had seemed closest to Lord Derby. Cuthbert followed him back to the Abbot’s lodging. The Abbot was sitting in his usual place behind one of the big tables with Lord Derby next to him. A number of papers were scattered in front of them.

  ‘Cuthbert, how would you feel about working on a new building?’ asked Lord Derby.

  Cuthbert was momentarily dumb. New building? Where? Here? Doing what?

  ‘Er, well,’ he managed. ‘Does Father Abbot wish me to leave?’ he asked.

  ‘I do not wish you to leave but you are a young man with your future before you. You have many years and many fine works to create yet. Perhaps it is time for you to see new places, serve new masters, create more fine things. Your work here has been exemplary and my lord here sees many opportunities for you elsewhere. You would go with my blessing.’

  ‘Where would I be going to?’

  ‘Initially to one of my estates,’ replied Lord Derby, ‘and then I have an idea that your skills may be of great use to a young friend of mine who is building a new house and needs skilled craftsmen like you. There would be work there for many years. He has drawn up plans for his house, it is to be large and impressive and will need many men to complete it. Would you be willing to be part of this new venture?’

  Why, yes, I would,’ excitement growing within Cuthbert. ‘When would you require me to go?’

  ‘By the end of this year. That will give you time to complete whatever tasks you have in hand here. Initially you would come to my estate and when your skills are needed you would move to your new workplace.’ He looked at Cuthbert. ‘Men of your skill are rare. It will be a great opportunity for you to advance yourself and give great satisfaction to your new master.’ He stood up and turned to Father Paslew. ‘I will send a servant to fetch him when we are ready, shall we say December, before the Christmas Feast? I presume you can ride,’ he asked over his shoulder.

  ‘I have ridden a pony in the past, though I am not what you would call a good rider.’

  ‘As long as you can stay in the saddle. It will be a faster journey on horseback than foot at that time of the year. I don’t want you freezing to death on the wayside.’ He turned back to Father Abbot. ‘I presume the goods have been loaded. I will leave you now.’ To Cuthbert he said, ‘Until December,’ then turned and left.

  Outside his men had loaded several pack horses with heavy looking panniers and the body guard were assembled closely around them. They rode out with a clatter of hooves and squeak of leather. Then they were gone and peace descended on the Abbey.

  Cuthbert returned to his polishing but his mind was in turmoil. New places. New work. New challenges. It was only later that he realised that he had not been told where this new beginning was to be.

  CHAPTER NINE

  As December approached Cuthbert had heard nothing further from either Abbot Paslew or Lord Derby and he was beginning to wonder whether they had made empty promises. He continued to work diligently at whatever tasks he was set and in free moments he explored the countryside around the Abbey. He liked particularly to walk along the banks of the river watching the birds and other wildlife that abounded in the fields and woods. He often made drawings of what he saw; a rabbit washing itself by the hedge, or a kingfisher sitting on a branch waiting for a fish to swim by, a fox stalking a bird through the long grass or a butterfly resting in the last rays of sunshine on a leaf. These were the source of his inspiration for his work and he was as capable of catching them on paper as he was in wood. Time sometimes caught up with him and he would have to hurry back to the Abbey so as not to miss a meal.

  The days grew shorter and colder and he was glad of the warming room, the only place where the residents in the Abbey were allowed a fire. Otherwise he wrapped himself in the good woollen cloak he had brought from Chester and worked in a warm corner of the workshop. Sometimes the blacksmith gave him tasks to do and he was glad to enter the forge and sit near the blazing fire as the smith made a variety of metal implements. He was one of the busiest of the craftsmen, there was always something needing repair, horses to be shod, tools to be made, door hinges to fashion, as many people from the village and surrounding farms came to the Abbey blacksmith to make use of his skills. Cuthbert continued to learn and improve his skills when working with wood.

  It was during these times that he often thought of his life in Chester and wondered what Mildred and Nell were doing now. Mildred was a sensible woman and would not have let her grief overshadow her life. She and Jethro had been married for many years and their life had been comfortable because Jethro worked hard to make it so. Their love was one of the abiding things he remembered about them. He had never heard a cross word pass between them, their minor disagreements were settled quietly and always before the day was over. The way they had quietly taken him into their home when his parents died was an example of their love of their fellow man. There was no argument, they just did it, opening their home and their hearts to a bewildered and grief stricken young boy. He had grown and developed in their love, quietly encouraging him with his lessons and later in his developing skill in working wood. It was Jethro who had apprenticed him and devoted seven years of his life to nurturing that skill until Cuthbert was recognised as having completed his apprenticeship and could move on as a journeyman. He could have moved away to pursue his life anywhere he wished but he had chosen to stay with these ado
ptive parents and continue to work alongside Jethro. What a precious time that had been.

  ***

  One bitterly cold day a group of men rode into the Abbey grounds and Cuthbert recognised the badge they wore; it was that of the Derby family. Perhaps, at last, the promise made was to be fulfilled. The men disappeared towards the Abbot’s lodging, their horses taken to the Abbey stables, out of the cold wind. Cuthbert felt a shiver of apprehension down his spine. They may have come on some other errand. They may have brought a message to the Abbot that he was not needed after all. They may ride away without him. It was almost more than he could bear.

  At last a servant emerged from the house and spoke to a passing lay brother who pointed towards the workshop where Cuthbert was trying to concentrate on smoothing a wooden handle he had just made for a farm rake. The servant turned towards him.

  ‘Father Abbot wants to see you,’ he said and turned back the way he had come. Cuthbert dropped the handle and followed. He was shown into Father Abbot’s room where the group of men were sitting by a roaring fire with cups of warmed wine in their hands and the remains of refreshments on plates at their side. Of course, he thought, they would have been offered something to warm them after a long, cold journey.

  ‘Cuthbert,’ cried Abbot Paslew. ‘Here is your escort to take you to my Lord Derby’s residence, as promised some time ago. It is time for you to leave us. Can you be ready within the hour to accompany them?’

  ‘Yes, Father,’ replied Cuthbert. ‘I have few belongings to gather.’

  ‘Then go and prepare. These men have some goods to collect here and then you will be on your way. They wish to return in daylight and the days are so short.’ He rose and came towards Cuthbert who knelt for his blessing. A gentle hand was laid on his bowed head. ‘May God go with you and keep you safe on your journey, not just today but on all your days. You will be remembered in our prayers with grateful thanks for all you have done for our Abbey and this village. Go in peace.’ He made the sign of the cross over Cuthbert’s head then lifted him to his feet and gave him one of his rare smiles. ‘Farewell, my son.’

  Cuthbert emerged into the cold winter sunshine. When he had arisen that morning he had no idea that he was about to start on another stage of life’s journey that very day. He looked up at the clear blue sky and then at the buildings around him. It had been his home for such a short time but one which he had come to love and would always remember. He hurried back to the workshop and gathered his tools into the stout leather satchel he had arrived with, then walked over to the lay brothers dormitory to collect his few belongings. Silas was there, as always, sweeping the floor between the narrow cots.

  ‘So, you are going,’ he remarked matter-of-factly. ‘Time to move on, eh?’

  ‘Yes, Silas. Time to move on. Thank you for your kindness to me ever since I arrived.’

  ‘’Tis nought but my job,’ was the reply. ‘Safe journey.’

  Cuthbert went in search of Brother John. He had a special fondness for the monk who had recognised his skill in Chester and brought him here to work for the great Abbey. As expected he found him in the cloister, sitting in one of the sheltered bays, well wrapped in his thick woollen cloak that he used when travelling, reading a manuscript laid on the desk before him. Cuthbert recognised it as one of the Gospels, copied so beautifully by a monk many years ago and held in the Abbey library.

  Brother John looked up and smiled his warm, welcoming face always a joy to see.

  ‘I see you are ready to go,’ he said.

  ‘Yes, how did you know?’

  ‘Oh, Cuthbert, my son, have you not yet realised that little goes on within these walls without it being known throughout the community within minutes? Brother James saw the men from the Earl of Derby arrive and go into the Abbot’s house. They have come for the rest of the treasure and will be returning today so I assumed you would go with them.’

  Cuthbert laughed.

  ‘You wily fox! Yes, I have been summoned and depart with them. I came to say goodbye and to thank you.’

  ‘Thank me for what? I have merely set you another step along your life’s journey.’

  ‘And what a step. Without that push from you I would still be carving boxes in Chester.’

  ‘What a box, though, eh. You will go far and create many more wonderful things. Trust me.’

  Cuthbert felt embarrassed by the praise and tried to change the subject.

  ‘You mentioned treasure. What treasure is that?’ he asked

  ‘Treasure left here by some rich man for safekeeping. The Abbey has had it in the Treasury for years, added to now and again until it has become a vast fortune, I’m told.’

  ‘Does he want it back now?’

  ‘Yes, it is to go to his son, to build a house. Some friend of Lord Derby, I believe. That’s why they keep coming back, taking a bit at a time. Safer that way. The Treasurer tells me this is the last so you will have to go with them too.’

  ‘Hence the pack ponies they brought with them.’

  ‘Yes, though I hope they give you something better to ride, those ponies can be skittish at times.’

  They clasped hands in farewell, looked into each other’s eyes and nodded in agreement. No further words were needed. Two friends parting for who knew how long, maybe forever.

  Cuthbert rode out on a decent horse surrounded by the escort and the pack ponies. As they passed under the gatehouse he looked back and there was Brother John standing by the inner gate. He raised a hand and Cuthbert waved back then set his face to the front, to another turn in his life and another step into the future.

  CHAPTER TEN

  ‘Where is that Cuthbert?’ snapped the cross looking man in the dusty tunic and hose, brandishing a large saw in one hand and a piece of paper in the other.

  ‘He went to find Ezekial to fetch the new wood,’ replied Will. ‘We’ll need it soon, once they finish the roofbeams.’

  ‘I’m well aware of that, my boy. That’s why I sent him but he should have been back some time ago.’

  ‘Perhaps there’s a problem,’ suggested Will. ‘He may have got lost.’

  ‘Lost? How can he get lost between here and the wood yard? He’ll be talking to someone, that’s what it’ll be. He’s always talking to someone. Only been here three weeks and he’s made himself known to everyone. A timewaster, that’s what he is, a timewaster. As if I didn’t have enough trouble trying to get this job finished and the Master coming over here every few days and changing his mind about what he wants. That’s the trouble with working with young Masters, always changing things. I’ve been building houses like this for thirty-five years, man and boy, and I knows what works and what don’t. Now, when I worked over in Yorkshire, the Master told me what he wanted and left me to it and there was nothing wrong with the place when it was done. This one! I mean to say, whoever heard of a fireplace on the outside wall of a Great Hall? Great monstrosity of a thing it is, takes up half the wall. There’s nothing wrong with a good fire in the middle, makes a central point for the room, but oh no! not this one. “It’s the latest thing, Abel,” he says. “All the great houses will have them soon,” he says. Not if I have anything to do with it. Why change what’s worked for centuries, I say?’

  ‘I think it’s …’

  ‘What you think is of no importance,’ interrupted Abel. ‘You are still my apprentice and you do as you’re told, whether you like it or not. Now go and find Cuthbert and tell him I want him here immediately. Go on, boy, go.’

  Will ran off, not wanting to get the sharp edge of Abel’s tongue. He had been apprentice carpenter for six years, only one more year to go and he would be able to call himself a journeyman though he would still stay with Abel. The old man had no family, no sons to follow him and Will recognised when he was well off. When old Abel died he wanted to be ready to step into his shoes. He saw Cuthbert as a rival. Arriving here on the recommendation of Lord Derby, no less, he was heralded as a great carver of wood. Not that they had seen any
of his carving yet. Abel had kept him on mundane tasks so far, sawing wood into lengths for the men constructing the building, making endless basketfuls of wooden pegs, holding things whilst others fastened them in place, fetching and carrying. Not that Cuthbert ever complained. He recognised that he was the newest man on the site and did anything he was asked to willingly. But Will was not going to let him take his place, Cuthbert was not going to worm his way into Abel’s team.

  Will smiled when he got outside. There was still no sign of Cuthbert with the new wood. Good. He wondered how long it had taken him to realise he’d been sent in the wrong direction. Looking round quickly, Will could see everyone was busy working. Plenty of time to sneak off and go and sit by the Mere for a little while whilst he waited for Cuthbert to return, then waylay him and berate him for taking so long. He knew of a place at the waterside, well hidden from anyone passing where he could rest whilst he planned his next move against Cuthbert.

  Ezekial and Cuthbert were making their way back to the building site with a cartload of timber for the builders. It had taken Cuthbert a considerable time to find the wood yard and it was only after asking a passing farm labourer that he realised that Will had sent him the wrong way. He wasn’t sure why the boy had taken such a dislike to him, he had barely spoken to him since arriving, but he was constantly doing things to annoy; ‘accidentally’ tipping over the basket of pegs Cuthbert had just filled, hiding the tools he was using, moving the pieces he had put in place ready for fastening together.

  ‘How do you like working with Abel?’ asked Ezekial, cutting into Cuthbert’s thoughts as he steered the horse round a sharp corner.

  ‘Fine,’ he replied. ‘I arrived unexpectedly with one of Lord Derby’s men and I don’t think Abel was too pleased to have a stranger thrust upon him and told to give me work. He has his gang of workers who he always uses, he didn’t need any more and I feel he resents my presence.’