Wolf Wood (Part One): The Gathering Storm

by Mike Dixon

  The little man snatched the parchment back and held it in two hands as if displaying a holy relic.

  'This licence is issued by the dean's office of the Salisbury diocese and bears the customary seal.' He coughed. 'It certifies that I, Piers Frost, is licensed as a summoner and be charged with the doleful responsibility of summoning moral transgressors to appear before the bishop's Halimote to answer accusations laid against them.'

  Harald's heart sank.

  'It has come to my notice that you, Harald Gascoigne, have been engaging in illicit intercourse with a certain Sister Alice de Lambert, a lady in holy orders and currently matron of the almshouse in this town of Sherborne. You have had carnal knowledge of a Bride of Christ and, as such, have conspired to cuckold Our Saviour Jesus. What say you to this accusation?'

  'Sister Alice is not in holy orders.'

  The summoner switched tack.

  'You have had sexual dealings with a woman who is not your wife. You have committed the abominable sin of fornication.'

  The lawyer in Harald came to his rescue.

  'I find your accusations preposterous. You have not a shred of evidence to support your vile claims which, in my view, are aimed at soliciting money rather than furthering the cause of moral rectitude. I must warn you that I am acquainted with the penalties for soliciting bribes and will not hesitate …'

  'Ee Awe!'

  The summoner made the noise of a donkey.

  Harald remembered the big-eared creature that was crawling around in the bushes while he was making love to Alice.

  'Oh, Harald!' The summoner imitated a female voice. 'I thought I would die a maid but you have saved me from that fate.'

  Harald's blood boiled. For the first time in his life, he wanted to hit someone. His most intimate secrets had been spied upon. He was being threatened. Far worse … Alice was being threatened. In the intoxicating moments of a May evening, he'd expressed his love for her in the way she so much desired. Now, in the clear light of day, it was impossible to explain why two people of mature years would perform in the bushes like a pair of spotty-faced adolescents. The pinch-faced man examined him like a leach intent on extracting every drop of blood.

  'A summons before the bishop's court would be most distressing.'

  The little man spoke like a concerned relative out to minimise pain.

  'Whatever the circumstances, it is something we should seek to avoid.'

  Harald knew what would follow.

  'I am fully cognisant of your concerns for the lady and I do not, for one moment, call them into question. Sadly, there are those who do not share my sanguine view of the relationship you have entered into.'

  Harald was in no mood to play out the charade.

  'How much do you want?'

  The summoner gave him a nod of recognition.

  'Three silver shillings would be a modest recompense for the diligent care I would seek to protect you.'

  Harald opened his pouch. He had strong views on paying bribes. When it came to the point, he wasn't prepared to put them into practice. Alice must be protected. He removed three silver coins and handed them over.

  'That is very generous of you, Sir Harald.' The summoner put the coins in his pouch. 'Now, I think I should inform you of some other news that has come to my attention.'

  Harald wondered what new extortion would follow.'

  'I am told the abbot has instructed Bailiff Gallor to seize your son and your servant, Robin. They are wanted on charges concerning the death of the bailiff's dog and the theft of tallow. I would advise you to remove them beyond Abbot Bradford's jurisdiction. By this, I mean you would be well advised to take them back to your manor, which lies outside the Abbot's Fee.'

  'How much?'

  'A shilling will suffice.'

  Harald produced another coin and wondered how many more would follow before the whole hideous business was brought to a close.

  ***

  The Julian was packed with people of all ages. Robin was there and so were the tinker and the Welsh boys. Robin was the centre of attention. Richard Vowell found that amusing. The young man was being paraded as a great masculine figure. Richard viewed him as the victim of an over-caring mother who had gone to extreme lengths to shield her son from the temptations of the sinful world. And she had succeeded ... until May Eve.

  By all accounts, Robin had made up for lost time.

  Richard wasn't interested. His attention was on a cart that had drawn up outside the inn. He recognised it as one used by the abbey in the passion plays. The huge vehicle was drawn by four horses and loaded with theatrical props. A Dominican, whom he recognised as Friar Ashley, sat beside the driver.

  Richard nursed a strong antipathy towards friars. In his view, they were as bad as monks and far more dangerous. Monks were meant to stay in their monasteries and pray for the salvation of souls. That didn't mean they wouldn't take to wandering if the opportunity arose but, in principle, they were meant to lead a cloistered life.

  Friars, on the other hand, were required to go out into the wider world and preach the gospels. They owed direct allegiance to the Pope in Rome, sent their ill-gotten gains to him and made a nuisance of themselves wherever they went. Father Ashley came from the friary in Gillingham and was a well-known troublemaker. He'd struck up a relationship with Abbot Bradford and that made him particularly loathsome.

  Richard watched as the friar climbed into the cart and handed a huge copper cauldron to the driver and his boy. They placed it on the cobblestones with great noise. It was market day and the town was overflowing with country folk. A crowd began to gather. Men hoisted children onto their shoulders. Small boys climbed trees and the whores came out of the George to see what was happening.

  At first, the friar ignored his audience. He erected a table in the cart and placed various items on it. One was a rush basket of the sort used to serve junkets and other delicacies. The next was a simple wooden cross. He draped a rosary over the cross then unfurled a painting of an angel plucking souls from the gates of hell.

  His three props were now in place and the cauldron was emitting the pungent smell of brimstone. Father Ashley raised his arms in an all-embracing expression of love. Not even the poorest beggar or the smallest child would think they were excluded from his compassion.

  'My friends. I am here to tell you about the three joys.'

  He had them in his thrall, mixing their own Dorset dialect with phrases in Latin. Richard decided to do the same. Everyone knew God spoke Latin.

  'Let me tell you about the first joy.'

  The friar removed a portion of cheese from the reed basket.

  'The first is the joy of worldly pleasures.'

  He popped the cheese in his mouth and leant towards the cauldron, which continued to belch fumes.

  'While we bide our time on this mortal plane, amongst the temptations of the flesh, it is easy to forget the terrors that await the sinner in hell.'

  At this point, the wicker basket flew open and a small boy, dressed as a demon, popped out. He waved a trident and hurled a bag of powder into the cauldron. There was a bang and a shower of sparks. The powder was followed by naked dolls, many badly singed from previous encounters with the flames. They represented human souls passing through the gates of hell.

  Friar Ashley peered into the acrid fumes.

  'I ask you, my friends. If a man, sitting at a table, furnished with delicious meats and drinks, were to see a cauldron of brimstone into which he would be thrown after he had dined … how would he enjoy his meal?'

  'He'd choke on it,' someone shouted.

  'Aye, my good friend. It would be no true joy. At the most it would be but half a joy … semiplenum gaudiam est quando quis.'

  The friar broke into Latin and the crowd knew they were hearing the very words of God. They watched, entranced as he continued. 'The second joy is that of communion with the Lord.' He held a cross in one hand and a rosary in the other. 'We are here on this mortal plane for but a little wh
ile. And, while we are here, our deeds will determine how we shall be judged when that terrible Day of Judgement comes. Great are the terrors which await the sinner who does not repent. Awful are the spikes and flames …'

  Then his voice took on a soothing tone.

  'But be ye not afeared.'

  He held out his arms in another all-embracing expression of love and deep compassion. 'The Lord Thy God is a merciful God. Through his Son Jesus Christ thy sins may be forgiven. The Holy Father in Rome has commanded my brother Dominicans to give thee solace in thine search for salvation.'

  The little boy reappeared in the form of an angel with scorched wings. He jumped down from the cart and plucked the blackened souls from the cauldron, to the cheers of the crowd.

  Richard watched the spectacle with mounting fury. The mindless cretins were responding to a cheap spectacle that was part conjuring trick and part Punch and Judy. And Punch and Judy weren't even Christian. They'd been brought back from the Saracen lands by the crusaders. Richard wondered if any of the stupid idiots had the wit to see the irony. He was reminded of something old Sir William Gascoigne had said about the Beauforts and their allies:

  When the time comes to get rid of those arseholes in Westminster, use the army. Don't involve the masses ... they'll only get in your way.

  Richard could only agree. He listened as the friar brought his sermon to its inevitable end and heard the clink of coins as they fell into his bowl. The morons thought they could buy salvation. They were so naïve as to think that the creator of the universe would listen to a fat friar praying for their souls. He pushed his way to the edge of the crowd and was about to re-enter the Julian when a voice sounded in his ear.

  'Master Vowell, may I have a quiet word with you?'

  A scrawny little man appeared by his side.

  'I think you know who I am.'

  Richard screwed up his face.

  'I smelt you a long way off. Even with the air full of brimstone and the foul odours of a farting friar, I couldn't miss your evil stench.'

  'It is ungracious to speak in such terms, Master Vowell.'

  'It is uncivil to accost me in such a way, Master Summoner.'

  'I think you know why I'm here.'

  'You want to screw some money out of me.'

  'Master Vowell, I am appalled to hear you speak like that. I come in a spirit of friendship to warn you that your conjugal ways could be the cause of great distress to yourself and a certain lady.'

  'My conjugal what?'

  'You are cohabiting with a woman to whom you are not espoused.'

  'What's that to you?'

  'Should the matter come to certain ears it would be my doleful duty to summon you to attend the Halimote to answer charges of moral depravity.'

  Richard grabbed the man by the neck.

  'If you do that, I shall consider it my doleful duty to give a full and detailed account of the conjugal bliss enjoyed by a canon, two nuns and half-a-dozen monks in this diocese, contrary to their vows of chastity. I shall also produce witnesses to testify that you have been taking bribes.'

  'Pray.' The summoner held up a pleading hand. 'I meant no threats or malice.'

  'That's all right then.' Richard released his hold. 'You merely came to wish me Good Morrow … is that it?'

  The summoner sank down and bowed.

  'Good Morrow, Master Vowell.'

  ***

  William jumped the gate and galloped back and forth in the manor yard, blowing on a hunting horn. Harald arrived in time to see his mother hurry down the outside stairs. He watched as she embraced the boy then followed Robin to the stables. There were the usual signs of neglect. After a few days absence, things were falling apart.

  He left Robin with the horses then went to the hall, expecting to find a mob of layabouts warming themselves by the fire but there was no one there. Nor was there anyone in the barn or brewery. The sheep pens were full but the horse paddock was empty. He hurried round to the smithy and found it deserted. So was the chapel and adjoining office.

  The sound of running water sent him to the laundry. A girl looked up nervously as he entered. He failed to recognise her as the shy young woman he'd mistaken for a whore a year earlier.

  'Where is everyone?'

  'I don't rightly know, Sire.'

  She retreated behind a table piled with wet sheets.

  'But there's no one here.' Harald advanced on her. 'You must know what's happened to them.'

  'No, Sire.' The girl picked up a wooden club. 'I just be here to do the washing of the clothes. You should ask her ladyship. It's not for me to say.' She brought the club down on the sheets and beat them furiously.

  Harald hurried back to the hall and climbed the stairs to his mother's private apartment. It was empty but the door leading outside was open. He went to it and stood in the porch. His mother was still in the yard, grasping the bridle of William's horse.

  'Mother, may I have a word with you?'

  'When I have finished talking to William.'

  She threw him a furious glance and he retreated inside. Mercifully, there were no servants to witness the insult. A thirteen-year-old was taking precedence over him. It was humiliating. No one should have to put up with such a thing. He was still fuming when she mounted the stairs and flew at him before he could speak.

  'How could you be so stupid?'

  'What do you mean?'

  'You've been paying the summoner.'

  'I don't know what you're talking about.'

  'Yes you do.' She barged into the room. 'Richard Vowell is having that little toad followed. He's been extorting money from all manner of people … and you're one of them.'

  Harald tried to explain but his tongue failed him.

  His mother had no such problem.

  'Once you start, there's no stopping. It's like giving a bear a spoonful of honey, only to find that the beast wants to take the whole pot.'

  Her mood changed. 'It's that de Lambert woman … isn't it?'

  Harald nodded.

  'I told you to take her as a mistress. But Harald, my dear son, at your age I expected more discretion. Richard told me about the May Dance. He was there with Betty. She was Queen of the Fairies and he was the Green Giant. The summoner went as a donkey?'

  'Yes, Mother, I know about the summoner.'

  She patted his arm. 'Don't look so downcast. I approve of what you have done. You've breathed new life into that poor woman.'

  The remark plunged Harald into further gloom. The thought of an unsanctioned pregnancy weighed heavily on his mind.

  'I approve of your relationship with Alice de Lambert,' Margery said. 'I do not approve of the way you are handling the summoner.'

  'My concern is for Alice.'

  'I don't see what you are worrying about.'

  'She's matron of the almshouse.'

  'Where's the problem?'

  'Ladies in her position do not engage in illicit intercourse.'

  'My son.' Margery shook her head. 'I sometimes wonder where I went wrong in your upbringing. Can't you get it into your thick skull that Alice does not want to be matron of the almshouse. She wants you and she wants your children. Betty has told me all about her.' She leant forward. 'Make a happy woman of her.'

  Harald didn't know what to say. Sex was a subject he was loath to discuss with anyone, let alone his mother. He'd shied away from it at his confessional, making vague references to forbidden pleasures and carnal sins. Now his mother was urging him to make a habit of fornicating with Alice.

  He was aware that she saw things from a totally different perspective. As far as she was concerned, morals had no part to play in the life of an ambitious family. Marriage, babies, war and law were about the acquisition of wealth and power. Appearances were more important than morals … and you could forget them if you had enough power.

  'We can find Alice a nice little house on the estate,' Margery continued. 'You can live here with your young wife and visit Alice as often as you wish. You'll h
ave two families. There's nothing wrong with that. Lots of men in your position do it. Duke Humphrey has for years.'

  She smiled knowingly.

  'I understand that his lady has become a good friend of Alice.'

  Harald suppressed a smile. His mother's unexpected enthusiasm for his amorous exploits was starting to make sense. She knew Eleanor Cobham had visited Alice on several occasions. The prospect of receiving the duke's lady at the manor would have turned her head. She might even have fantasies about entertaining the duke.

  'I've been thinking about your plans for a new wing.'

  'Yes, Mother.'

  'I think it should be entered through the solar. The outside stairs could be taken away and the door converted into an oriel window with coloured glass. Lady Stafford was telling me about hers. She says the duke admires it greatly.'

  'I shall ask Master Hulle to draw up plans, Mother.'

  'Hulle?' Margery pulled a face. 'Richard Vowell has told me some very unsavoury things about him and William says his son is two faced and treacherous.'

  'Master Hulle worked on the restoration of Winchester Cathedral and is in charge of the rebuilding of Sherborne Abbey,' Harald said. 'He is a highly regarded architect and master mason. Duke Humphrey greatly admires his work.'

  Margery's expression changed.

  'In that case I give my consent for you to proceed. I shall write to your father. We have in mind that your young wife will have an apartment of her own, with her own servants. Ask Master Hulle to draw up plans for that as well.'

  Harald could scarcely believe his ears.

  'Where is the money going to come from, Mother?'

  'Your betrothed will arrive with a substantial dowry. The seigneur and your father have prospered greatly in the past few months. They are mindful of the need to place part of their gains on this side of Channel.'

  Harald guessed the two men wanted to get their loot to safety in case the war turned against them again.

  'The marriage will take place in the month before Michaelmas in the seigneur's chapel on his estate near Rouen. Guy will act as your proxy and bring your bride here shortly after the ceremony.'

  Harald knew about the arrangements for his marriage to a spotty-faced French girl and their constant repetition depressed him. He looked out of the window and was surprised to see Robin and William riding from the yard.