‘But the ports have been alerted as well.’
‘That’s why he won’t make for a port, Gervase. A boat could put out from almost anywhere along the coast. Starculf may already have one in readiness. All I can say is what my instinct tells me. Starculf will travel towards the coast and the anchorite will be on his tail every inch of the way.’
Ralph’s predictions were soon borne out. When they stopped at a hamlet, they heard that Jocelyn Vavasour had called there the previous evening, asking after a lone man on the run. Having picked up the anchorite’s trail, they followed him due east and soon gathered more evidence of his route from the priest in a village church. They quickened their pace and pressed on. Ralph remembered something.
‘I’ve forgotten to give you an apology, Gervase,’ he said.
‘For what?’
‘Hauling you out of bed so early this morning. I was so anxious to get off that I knocked far too hard on your door. I’m sorry if I disturbed Alys as well.’
‘She was already awake.’
‘There’s nothing worse than being interrupted at a time like that,’ said Ralph with a smile. ‘No wonder you were so quiet at the start of our journey. I deprived you of the delights of the marital couch.’
‘But you didn’t,’ explained Gervase. ‘I was sad to leave because I wanted to comfort Alys. She slept badly last night and felt sick in the early hours. Alys hasn’t been enjoying her food since we got here.’
Ralph was concerned. ‘Then there’s even more reason to apologise,’ he said. ‘Why didn’t you tell me, Gervase? I could have ridden out with my men and you could have stayed to look after your dear wife.’
‘It was Alys who urged me to go.’
‘I hate the thought that she’s unwell.’
‘She was considerably better when I left, Ralph. But I still worry about her.’
‘I hope you have no qualms about bringing her with us. It’s been wonderful for Golde to have such a companion. She and Alys have become almost like sisters.’
‘I’m glad that I brought her,’ said Gervase. ‘I just wish that she could start to enjoy the visit to Norwich rather more than she is doing. It isn’t only her ill health that’s upset her; she was horrified by the murder. She’s had nightmares about it.’
‘Then let’s do what we can to solve the crime once and for all,’ said Ralph. ‘Then we can get on with our work and your wife can sleep more soundly at night.’
A mile down the track, they stopped to question an old shepherd who was tending his flock in the bright sunshine. The man was largely inarticulate but he did manage to give them some heartening news. Earlier that morning, someone who sounded very much like Jocelyn Vavasour had passed that way and interrogated him. They were getting closer. It encouraged Ralph to set an even faster pace, collecting evidence of further sightings of the anchorite whenever they paused in a hamlet or met someone on the road. It was afternoon when they finally caught up with him. Ralph raised an arm to bring the troop to a halt. He pointed to a derelict house. ‘That’s where we’ll find him.’
‘Can you see him?’ asked Gervase.
‘No, but I glimpsed a horse grazing nearby. Its rider must be Jocelyn.’
‘Let’s find out.’
They approached at a trot until they closed in on the dwelling. It was a Saxon hut, long abandoned and almost falling to pieces. Two of the walls had collapsed and very little of the thatch remained. Jocelyn the Anchorite was not pleased to see them. He stepped out of the ruined dwelling and stood with his hands on his lips. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Looking for you, Jocelyn,’ said Ralph. ‘You’re the hound that we knew would pick up the scent.’
‘I’m hunting on my own account, my lord.’
‘Nobody is stopping you, my friend. We’ll just plod along behind you.’
Ralph gave the signal to dismount, then got down from the saddle himself. The anchorite saw the determination in their faces and knew that he could not easily shake them off. He elected to confide in them. ‘Starculf is travelling on foot,’ he said.
‘How do you know?’ asked Gervase.
‘Because he’s been seen by more than one person. Also, he’d have got much further than this if he’d been on horseback. He spent the night here.’
They followed him into the ramshackle house and looked down at the ashes in one corner. When Jocelyn raked them with his foot, a faint glow could be seen.
‘He’s a resourceful man,’ he said, ‘to light a fire in those conditions. It rained hard for most of the night. I should know. I was out in the storm for hours.’
‘Wouldn’t it have been dangerous to light a fire?’ said Gervase. ‘In country as flat as this, it could be seen from miles away.’
‘Not if it was banked down properly,’ suggested Ralph. ‘He would have lit it to dry himself out, and my guess is that then he cooked something on it.’
Jocelyn nodded. ‘He did, my lord. I found some small bones.’
‘Which way is he going?’
‘Towards the coast.’
‘I guessed as much. He’ll be travelling very slowly, if he’s on foot. We should overhaul him.’
‘That’s easier said than done, my lord. Starculf will be more difficult to spot than he would be on horseback. There are ditches all over this land and lots of other hiding-places to choose from.’
‘Then let’s join forces and search them,’ said Ralph. ‘Shall we?’
Jocelyn the Anchorite hesitated. Irritated that his own pursuit of the quarry had been interrupted, he understood the advantage of additional pairs of eyes. He also had some admiration for Ralph Delchard, who had somehow found him in his refuge. That argued skill and patience on his part. He could be useful.
‘Very well, my lord,’ he said at length. ‘But there’s a strict condition.’
‘What is it?’
‘You can have Starculf–but I get the elephants.’
Ralph needed no time at all to consider the proposition.
‘Agreed,’ he said.
Olova was so angry that she waved her fists in the air. Skalp calmly stood his ground.
‘He was here?’ she said in disbelief. ‘Starculf was here?’
‘Only briefly.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘There was no need for you to know,’ he said.
‘There was every need, Skalp. Think of the danger he put us all in. Everyone is out searching for him. If he’d been caught here, we’d all have been arrested for hiding him from justice.’
‘He wasn’t caught.’
‘He might have been.’
‘He wasn’t, grandmother,’ he asserted, sourly. ‘I hid him too well.’
‘From me as well as from everyone else,’ Olova scolded. ‘How could you do such a thing, Skalp?’
‘He was our friend.’
‘What sort of friend puts us at risk like that?’
‘There was no risk. I saw to that.’
‘Well, I should have been told about it. Only yesterday, I gave my word to Master Bret that Starculf hadn’t been near us for ages. You turned me into a liar.’
‘You told the truth as you saw it.’
‘Yet all the time, Starculf was lurking nearby.’
‘Somebody had to help him.’
‘Why did it have to be you?’
Her grandson fell silent. He respected Olova and would do her bidding without the slightest complaint most of the time. But he had an independent streak and it had shown itself clearly now. Because she rarely stirred from her hut, he had dared to conceal a fugitive from the law on her land. It shocked her. Olova would have been happier if she had never heard the name of Starculf again. It brought back sad memories for her.
‘Why did it have to be you?’ she repeated.
‘I felt that I owed it to him.’
‘You owe him nothing.’
‘Yes, I do,’ he said, vehemently. ‘And so do you, grandmother. You were delighted when you heard tha
t Hermer had been killed. I saw the joy in your face. It was Starculf who put that joy there. Don’t forget that. But for him, Hermer would still be alive, doing to other girls what he did to Aelfeva. Is that what you’d have wanted?’
‘No!’ she cried in distress.
‘You saw what happened to Aelfeva.’
‘Don’t remind me.’
‘I was the one who found her body, floating in the water,’ he reminded her. ‘That’s what Hermer drove her to, Grandmother. He had Aelfeva’s blood on his hands.’
‘I know that.’
‘Then you should be grateful to Starculf.’
‘I am–in some ways.’
‘Hermer deserved to perish,’ he said, harshly. ‘His master took our land from us and he himself took Aelfeva. Was it Hermer who came here to apologise?’
‘No, it was Starculf.’
‘And because he spoke out, he lost his place.’
‘That still doesn’t mean you should have harboured him, Skalp,’ she said, sternly. ‘And you certainly shouldn’t have done so without my knowledge. My property may have shrunk in size but I still own a little land and you get your living from it. That means you’re accountable to me. Do you understand?’
‘Yes, Grandmother.’
‘Nothing takes place here behind my back.’
He gave a nod. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘I’d never have known if one of the children hadn’t spotted a stranger coming out of the bushes. But I do know now, and I realise that you betrayed me.’
‘I had to help Starculf. He was only here for a night or two.’
‘I don’t care if he was here for no more than an hour. He put us all in danger.’
‘Starculf put himself in danger for our sake.’
‘That was his choice.’
‘I couldn’t turn him away.’
‘Why not? Is he more important to you than I am?’
‘No, Grandmother.’
‘Be honest,’ she pressed, glaring at him. ‘Do you put Starculf above me?’
Head on his chest, he shifted his feet and gave a noncommittal shrug. When he looked up at her again, his face was expressionless and his voice dull. ‘I’ve got to get back to work.’
‘Where is Starculf now?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Is that the truth?’
‘Yes, Grandmother.’
‘What am I to say if they come looking for him again?’
‘Nothing,’ he advised, sullenly. ‘Nothing at all.’
Starculf moved more slowly by day, keeping to the ditches or hugging the occasional outcrops of hedgerow. The warm weather was a mixed blessing. Against the pleasure of being dry again he set the danger of being more visible in the bright landscape. Though the fields seemed to be devoid of almost any moving creature apart from sheep, he knew that a sharp pair of eyes could pick him out from a considerable distance. While a posse might not spot him so far off the beaten track, a shepherd or a cottar or someone else working on the land might pick him out and report his whereabouts. He travelled in short bursts, keeping low and running towards the next available cover. He was tired but he pushed himself on, ignoring the water that squelched under his feet in ditches that were still soggy from the previous day’s rain. Birds watched his furtive progress across the countryside and put their comments into plaintive song. A fox was disturbed out of its den. Smaller animals also fled from a man who was himself in flight.
They were a mile away when he first caught sight of them over his shoulder. Starculf counted nine of them, moving steadily forward in a line that stretched out across a hundred yards or more. The sun glinted off the helms that most of them were wearing. They were methodical. He sank down behind a tree stump to watch them. Under the guidance of the rider at the end of the line, they rode at a brisk trot as they searched for signs of the fugitive’s route. Eventually, one of them stopped near a ditch and called out. The others quickly converged on him. Starculf crawled away on his stomach until sloping ground took him out of their sight. Getting to his feet, he sprinted in the direction of a field of wheat that stood unharvested. They were on to him. He needed a refuge.
Ralph Delchard dismounted to see what Jocelyn the Anchorite had found. Crouched on the ground, the latter pointed to footprints in a patch of muddy ground near the ditch.
‘I think he came this way, my lord,’ he said.
‘Someone did,’ agreed Ralph. ‘We’ve no guarantee that it was Starculf.’
‘Who else would be in such a remote place?’
‘Another anchorite, perhaps?’
Jocelyn acknowledged the jest with a rare smile, then dropped down into the ditch. He went back along it for some way before clambering back up the bank. When he reached the others, his feet were wet but his face was glowing.
‘He’s definitely been here,’ he announced. ‘There are footprints all the way along the ditch. It must be Starculf, trying to keep out of sight.’
‘He’s close,’ decided Ralph, scanning the horizon. ‘I feel it.’
‘So do I.’
‘How far can a man get on foot in a day?’
‘It depends how much guilt is weighing him down.’
‘I have the feeling that Starculf is not a man troubled by his conscience,’ said Ralph, mounting his horse again. ‘If he were, the crimes wouldn’t have been committed in the first place.’
‘Only a godless heathen would steal holy treasures,’ said Jocelyn, pulling himself up into the saddle. ‘I’ll read him a sermon when I catch up with him.’
‘You’ll be wasting your breath, my friend.’
‘He must be made aware of the gravity of his offence.’
‘Murder takes precedence over all else,’ insisted Ralph. ‘That’s the charge on which I’ll arrest him. Save your sermons for ears that might wish to listen.’ He waved an arm and yelled to his men. ‘Fan out and stay in line with me. He’s very close. Keep your eyes open!’
The men obeyed the order, stretching the line even further than before. At a signal from Ralph, they set off again, looking carefully for any clue that might help them. They moved on until they came to the tree stump behind which Starculf had earlier hidden. It was Gervase who called them to a halt this time. He was at the very centre of the line. Ralph and Jocelyn rode swiftly across to him.
‘Look,’ said Gervase, pointing to the grass that had been flattened. ‘Somebody was here without a doubt. It’s almost as if he crawled on his belly through the grass.’
‘He’s nearer than we thought,’ said Ralph.
‘He must have gone down that hill.’
‘Then let’s follow him!’
Taking out his sword, Ralph held it up in the air as if about to lead a charge. ‘Forward!’ he shouted. ‘Starculf is here! I can smell him. I want the rogue taken alive. After him!’
When she returned to her house, she found Mauger Livarot waiting for her. The lady Adelaide needed a moment to regain her composure before she went into her parlour. Her confrontation with Richard de Fontenel had left her feeling jangled and she was not pleased to see that she had a visitor. It was an effort to manufacture a token smile. No effort was needed by Mauger Livarot. Smirking complacently, he got up from his seat to welcome her. After an exchange of greetings, he waited until she sat down before he spoke again, eyeing her possessively and standing close enough to inhale her fragrance.
‘Your servant tells me that you paid a visit to the lord Richard,’ he began.
‘That’s right,’ she conceded.
‘I think I can guess what sent you there, Adelaide. You learned the truth about those gold elephants, didn’t you? They were holy treasures, stolen from an abbey.’
‘So I hear.’
‘Richard de Fontenel was trying to trick you into marriage.’
‘You’re not above using a trick or two yourself, my lord,’ she observed, tartly. ‘You had a spy in his household until the man was discovered. I should imagine that he paid dearly for his betrayal.’<
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Livarot’s face darkened. ‘His back was whipped to shreds.’
‘You must take some of the blame for that.’
‘The man was a fool to get himself caught.’
‘What will you do now that you no longer have someone to report on the lord Richard? It won’t be so easy to stay one step ahead of him in future.’
‘Yes, it will,’ he assured her. ‘But tell me what you said to him.’
‘That was a private conversation. Unheard by any spy of yours.’
‘Were hot words traded?’
‘I spoke my mind,’ she said, briskly. ‘He knows my feelings now.’
He clicked his tongue. ‘Only Richard de Fontenel would try to palm off stolen property on the woman he was hoping to marry.’
‘Those hopes have been dashed.’
‘That’s why I came here this afternoon. To plead my own case.’
‘I’m not in the mood for courtship, my lord.’
‘I just thought you’d like to know the full truth about my rival,’ he said, easily. ‘He still planned to ensnare you with a pair of gold elephants.’
‘How? If they’re recovered, they’ll go back to the abbey of St Benet.’
‘Not in this case.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘The lord Richard didn’t wish to disappoint you, Adelaide. He commissioned Judicael the Goldsmith to make two replicas, exact in every detail. Fortunately, I was advised of his scheme in time to stop it.’
‘Stop it?’ she said with interest.
‘You’d hardly wish to receive anything from the hands of a man who deceived you so cruelly. The lord Richard betrayed you. He’s nothing more than a common thief.’
‘Tell me about these replicas.’
‘They can never be quite as good as the originals,’ he pointed out, ‘but Judicael is confident that he can make them, given the help of another goldsmith who saw the treasures at the abbey before they were taken.’ His voice was artless. ‘Does the idea of replicas hold any attraction for you?’
There was a long pause as she examined the implications of the question. ‘It might,’ she said at length. ‘It would, of course, depend entirely on the quality of the craftsmanship.’
The Elephants of Norwich Page 24