The Foxes of Warwick d-9

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The Foxes of Warwick d-9 Page 20

by Edward Marston


  Trust us, my lord bishop. We are cunning interrogators. We will learn exactly what you wish to know.’

  Robert de Limesey scrutinised him through narrowed lids then crooked a finger to beckon Reginald across. The monk was at his side in a flash and the two of them had a long mumbled conversation. Ralph tapped an impatient foot but Gervase kept his composure. At length the bishop flicked Reginald away again then rose from his seat.

  ‘What you are offering me is a form of bargain. Correct?’

  ‘Yes, my lord bishop,’ said Gervase.

  ‘Both of us stand to gain.’

  ‘That is so.’

  ‘I see,’ said Robert, eyes sparkling. ‘It is refreshing to find you so amenable. The notion of a bargain is appealing.’ He put his hands together in prayer. ‘Let us talk about the dispute in which I am engaged over property which I dearly covet.’

  Adam Reynard was in the middle of his meal when the visitor called. The servant opened the front door to admit Grimketel, who was twitching with fright. Reynard was not pleased to have his favourite occupation interrupted. He chewed the last of the chicken, then sluiced it down his throat with a cup of wine. His wife and servant withdrew so that he could accost Grimketel alone.

  ‘Why do you disturb me at a time like this?’ he demanded.

  ‘I had no choice.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Boio has escaped.’

  Reynard was stunned. ‘Escaped? From the castle? How?’

  ‘I do not know the details,’ said Grimketel. ‘I had it from one of the foresters. The lord Henry and his men are searching everywhere for the fugitive. Boio is on the run.’

  ‘A lumbering ox like that? They will soon catch him.’

  ‘They have had no luck so far. I am terrified.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Why do you think?’

  ‘He would not come in search of you, Grimketel.’

  ‘He might.’

  ‘No, never.’

  ‘You do not know the man as I do,’ said the other, shivering visibly. ‘He may seem quiet and peaceful but he nurses grudges.

  And he has enough of those against me.’

  ‘One in particular.’

  ‘It is my testimony which got him arrested in the first place. I am afraid that he will come after me for revenge. That is why I ran to you for protection. Let me stay here.’

  ‘You are in no danger.’

  ‘I am,’ bleated Grimketel. ‘Until he is caught.’

  ‘Boio will be far too busy trying to dodge the posse to worry about you. What puzzles me is how he managed to get away in the first place. He has barely enough brains to get up in the morning yet he contrives to escape from the castle dungeon.

  How?’

  ‘He must have had help.’

  ‘That is what I am thinking.’

  ‘Someone who got him out may also hide him.’

  ‘Only a fool would dare to do that,’ said Reynard. ‘The lord Henry is bound to find him soon and may already have done so.

  Anyone else involved in the escape will swing on the gallows beside the blacksmith.’

  ‘I will not feel safe until he is taken.’

  ‘Then go to the village. Stay with friends.’

  ‘Can I not take refuge here?’

  ‘No, Grimketel.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because there is no need. Besides, I do not want you cringing in my house when you have one of your own less than a mile away. Go back and bar your doors if you are so fearful. I will send word when Boio is tracked down.’

  Grimketel was wounded. ‘Is that all the thanks I get?’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘The many favours I have done for you.’

  ‘Duties are not favours,’ snapped the other. ‘And you are well paid for any services you do for me. They do not entitle you to come here when my wife and I are eating our food and demand to be taken in.’

  ‘I am not demanding — I am pleading with you.’

  ‘Be brave, man.’

  ‘Boio means to kill me, I know it.’

  ‘Nothing will be further from that muddled mind of his. In any case,’ added Reynard, ‘you are not the only witness who spoke up against him. There were those who overheard him arguing with Martin, my late kinsman. Will Boio pick you all off one by one?’

  Grimketel shuddered. ‘I hope not!’

  ‘It will not even occur to him. What would be his motive?’

  ‘Blind hatred.’

  ‘You alarm yourself unnecessarily. Go home, Grimketel. Lock yourself in your house if need be, and have a weapon by your side.

  It will not be needed, I promise you. Boio is probably miles away.’

  ‘At the moment. He may be laying low until nightfall.’ He took a step closer. ‘Let me stay here — please!’

  ‘No!’ said Reynard, pushing him away. ‘Stop trembling like that.

  You have shown courage enough in the past — show some more now.’

  Grimketel nodded and made an effort to control his fear.

  ‘You are right,’ he said with false bravado. ‘Why should I be afraid of him? Even if he did come, I would be a match for him if I was armed. Killing me would serve no purpose. I am not at risk.’

  ‘Neither of us is,’ said Reynard complacently.

  ‘You may be.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Not from Boio. Your unwelcome visitors are like to be the lord Henry and his men. They are working their way through the forest and will certainly come this way in time.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘Look to your own safety.’

  ‘Boio is not here. I will send the posse on its way.’

  ‘It may not be as simple as that,’ said Grimketel with a sly grin. ‘The forester told me that the lord Henry was in a foul mood.

  The fruitless search is telling on his temper. When they caught a poacher the lord Henry ordered him to be mutilated. What if he refuses to be sent on his way and insists on searching here?’

  Adam Reynard ran his tongue nervously over his lips while he pondered. Something of Grimketel’s anxiety finally gripped him.

  ‘Stay here,’ he decided. ‘I will need you to help me.’

  Ralph Delchard waited until they left the abbey before he burst into irreverent laughter. He jabbed Gervase Bret teasingly in the ribs.

  ‘How on earth did you keep such a straight face?’ he said. ‘It was all I could do to stop myself from grinning.’

  ‘At what?’

  ‘Your litany of deceit. And on consecrated ground, too! I am surprised that your tongue did not turn black and fall out.’

  ‘There was no deceit, Ralph. I merely bent the truth slightly.’

  ‘Bent it? You broke it asunder.’

  ‘No, I did not.’

  ‘Oh, I am not complaining,’ said Ralph. ‘You deserve congratulation. The bishop was set to refuse us access to Huna until you spoke. He could not resist you, Gervase. You charmed him until he was ready to grant us any request we wished to make — with his episcopal blessing thrown in for good measure.

  And the beauty of it was,’ he added with a slap between his friend’s shoulder blades, ‘Robert de Limesey thought that he had the better bargain.’

  ‘I had to offer him something,’ said Gervase modestly. ‘The trick was to do it with hints and nudges rather than with firm undertakings. He will have a rude shock when he does appear before our tribunal.’

  ‘No favour will be shown to him or to any of them.’

  ‘Yet he thinks his success is already assured.’

  ‘Thanks to you,’ said Ralph. ‘You duped him like a master. It serves him right for even suggesting such a corrupt bargain!’

  ‘I did warn you that the bishop might be slippery.’

  ‘He is a more crafty fox than Adam Reynard.’

  ‘We had to find some way to talk to Huna,’ said Gervase as they reached the stout wooden building which served as the town gaol. ‘Let us hope he ca
n tell us what we need to hear.’

  The letter which they bore from the bishop gained them admission to a narrow cell with a ceiling so low that they had to duck to avoid banging their heads on it. Mouldy straw was scattered on the bare earth. Huna was sitting contentedly in a corner. He looked up with interest.

  ‘Am I to be called for examination again?’ he asked.

  ‘No,’ said Gervase.

  ‘A pity. I enjoyed tying the bishop in knots. Who are you?’

  Gervase introduced the two of them, speaking in English for ease of communication and immediately winning the man’s confidence. Huna listened to his tale, then pulled himself up from the floor.

  ‘The good blacksmith arrested for murder?’ he cried.

  ‘We think him innocent,’ said Gervase.

  ‘Why, so do I. He was kind to me and fed my donkey hay.’

  ‘What time did you call at the forge?’

  ‘Not long after dawn.’

  ‘And where had you spent the night?’

  ‘On the edge of the Forest of Arden. There was an abandoned hut — no more than a few pieces of timber held together but it was better than staying out in the cold.’

  ‘Did you go straight to the forge?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Huna. ‘It was pure chance that I found him. We made our way to the main road and there was the forge, waiting for us with a warm fire and a greeting. The blacksmith seemed pleased to see us.’

  ‘A tradesman always likes custom,’ noted Ralph.

  ‘Not when there is no chance of payment. Look at me, sirs,’ he said, indicating his threadbare attire. ‘Boio could see what you do. I have no money. I rely on the kindness of men like the blacksmith.’

  ‘So why was he so pleased to see you?’ asked Gervase.

  ‘I do not know.’

  ‘Was anyone else at the forge?’

  ‘No, Master Bret.’

  ‘There was no woman there?’

  ‘No woman, man or child,’ said the other. ‘Boio had the bleak look of a man who lives alone. Not that he was unhappy with his lot. Far from it. He kept telling me that he liked his work so much he hardly ever stirred outside his forge. But he did not look cared for or watched over.’ He gave a grin. ‘Like me. We are two of a kind.’

  ‘Go back to the forest,’ said Ralph. ‘When you left that hut, did you see anyone else near the forest?’

  ‘I may have done.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘Among the trees. I thought I caught a glimpse of a man but I may have been mistaken in the poor light. Either that or he hid from me.’

  ‘And it was a man?’ added Gervase. ‘Not a woman?’

  Huna was certain. ‘A man. No woman could run that fast.’

  ‘The man was running?’

  ‘If he was really there.’

  ‘Would he have seen you, if he was?’

  ‘He must have done.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘The path we followed was across open land,’ said Huna. ‘It skirts the forest. Anyone hiding in the trees would have seen me.’

  Gervase turned to his colleague. ‘Grimketel?’

  ‘It could be.’

  The two of them conferred before taking Huna through his story once more. Fresh details came to light which helped him to be more specific about the time when he was at the forge but they were not sure whether the old man was recalling them for the first time or inventing them in order to assist Boio. For all that, he was a valuable witness whose evidence supported everything which the blacksmith had confided to Brother Benedict when they’d met in the dungeon. Huna was amused to hear that the monk himself was now incarcerated.

  ‘Why do they always do it?’ he said.

  ‘Do what?’ asked Ralph.

  ‘Lock up the wrong people. First Boio. Then this hapless monk.

  And now me. Three innocent and harmless men, branded as criminals. Yet all we have sought to do is to help others.’

  ‘We will soon have Benedict free. And if Gervase can weave his spell in front of Bishop Robert again, we may even be able to get you out of this gaol, Huna. We brought a horse to take you back to Warwick.’

  ‘My old donkey will suit me,’ said the other. ‘But do not worry on my account. I have been in this position before and God always delivers me one way or another. He needs me to do His work.’

  ‘The bishop told us of the miracle you performed.’

  ‘I will convince him that it was no sorcery in the end. But thank you for coming to see me. You made me feel important to you for a while and that cheered me up.’

  ‘You are important to us,’ said Gervase. ‘What you have told us confirms Boio’s alibi. It was vital to talk to someone who went to the forge that morning. Since you spent the night near the forest, your testimony is additionally helpful. I believe that you did see a man running through the trees. He deliberately hid from you.’

  ‘Why? I could do him no harm.’

  ‘Yes, you could.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘By recognising him again. If it is the man we think it may have been, he would have good cause to stay out of sight.’

  Huna scratched under his arm as he tried to recall the incident.

  There was a long pause before his face brightened with a revelation.

  ‘I did see something,’ he asserted. ‘I am sure I did.’

  ‘Go on,’ urged Ralph.

  ‘But it may not have been a man.’

  ‘Who else could it have been?’

  ‘Ursa.’

  ‘Who is Ursa?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Huna as the idea took hold of him. ‘He said that they spent the night in the Forest of Arden. The dwarf even mentioned seeing that derelict hut so they must have been somewhere close by. It could have been him flitting through the trees. It might have been Ursa.’

  ‘Who, in God’s name, is this Ursa?’

  ‘A performing bear.’

  Asmoth was filled with remorse when she got back home. She had not intended to spend the whole night at the forge and was mortified that she had fallen asleep in the chair. The first thing which met her on her return to the mean hovel which she shared with her ailing father was his reproachful glance from the bed.

  Pale, gaunt and wasted, he lay under a tattered blanket with only a faint hold on life. Her father was too weak to upbraid her and too weary to demand why she had deserted him for a whole night. But the accusation in his eyes was punishment enough for her. Overcome with contrition, Asmoth burst into tears and rushed to hug him warmly. The reunion only sent him off into a fit of coughing.

  When she had fed him with some water and a crust of bread she turned her attention to the fire. It was the sick man’s one source of comfort throughout a cold night and her absence meant that it had gone out. Only tiny charred pieces of wood remained.

  Asmoth told her father where she was going, then she went off to collect some twigs to start a fire and some logs to keep it in.

  There was a copse nearby and she was used to foraging there for kindling. She moved about swiftly, gathering up twigs and dead leaves and anything else which might help to start a fire.

  She came to a large bush and bent to pick up the branch which had snapped off from the tree which overhung it. The branch was enmeshed in the bush itself and she had to tug it hard to pull it free. A voice then seemed to emerge from the heart of the bush.

  ‘Asmoth?’

  She let go of the branch at once and stepped back in surprise.

  ‘Boio?’ she said. ‘Is that you?’

  Chapter Eleven

  In a town as small as Coventry they had no difficulty finding a dwarf with a performing bear. One of them on his own would have been conspicuous enough but the two were unmistakable when together. Several people had seen them walking along the road to Coundon, a hamlet which lay to the north-west, so Ralph and Gervase set off in that direction. Gervase recalled that Coundon was a tiny part of the abbey’s substantial holdings in the county. Ursa and his master were s
till on ecclesiastical ground. They had not gone far. They were resting in a hollow which gave them protection from the wind and a degree of privacy. Hearing the approach of riders, the dwarf scrambled up the slope to see who was coming. The sight of men-at-arms moving at a steady canter was alarming, especially as their leader pointed a finger when the bearward appeared. They were after him. The dagger at his belt would be useless against such odds.

  When Ralph brought his party to a halt they circled the hollow and gazed in amusement at the bear and his diminutive master.

  Ribald comments were made by the soldiers but they were good-humoured and carried no threat. The dwarf relaxed and Ursa’s defensive stance was changed to a lazy roll on the ground. Ralph dismounted with Gervase. They stepped forward to the edge of the hollow to introduce themselves.

  ‘We were hoping to find you,’ said Ralph.

  The bearward grinned. ‘You want a performance, master?’

  ‘Not now.’

  ‘It is no trouble.’

  ‘Another time.’

  ‘Ursa and I will be delighted to show you our tricks.’

  ‘Before so few of us?’

  ‘Two people are an audience,’ said the dwarf. ‘There are eight of you and that is more than enough to entice us.’

  ‘We have come in search of your help, my little friend.’

  ‘Yes,’ explained Gervase. ‘Huna told us about you. The old man with the donkey. All four of you spent the night together.’

  ‘Will I ever forget it?’ moaned the dwarf. ‘That donkey of his stank worse than Ursa. And such terrible noises from both ends of the beast. But Huna was a pleasant bedfellow. We talked long into the night.’

  ‘That is what he said.’

  ‘Then he performed his miracle and they seized him.’

  ‘We have spoken to the bishop about his case.’

  ‘Will they try him for sorcery?’

  ‘His fate may not be as bad as it seems.’

  ‘No,’ said Ralph. ‘Huna is used to living on his wits and he has talked his way out from beneath fulminating bishops before.

 

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