Without a Trace

by Mel Starr

  Clanfield is but two miles from Bampton. What evil could befall me in two miles? If the men who seized Lady Philippa knew that I sought them and her, much wickedness might occur in two miles. At Bampton Castle I found Arthur and bade him prepare two palfreys, then sought Giles Stonor and the grooms Maurice and Brom. They would accompany me to Clanfield, I told them, and I bade them make their beasts ready.

  Arthur has served as a groom to Lord Gilbert for many years, since before I came to serve as bailiff at Bampton. He is no longer young, but his sturdy appearance is often enough to cause men otherwise prone to violence to reconsider their intentions. And if they should not, he is able to subdue most men who will not be persuaded to live peaceably and obey the laws of the realm.

  “You believe the lady disappeared while traveling through my bailiwick?” the Clanfield bailiff asked when I had found him and explained my purpose. The man’s name was Thomas Skirlaw. A round-faced fellow with eyes set close together and a small nose half the size of my own. Not plump, but soft, as if toil was unknown to him. It likely was.

  “I’m sure of it,” I replied. “The woolen threads and the brooch indicate that she passed through the wood just north of the village. I believe it unlikely she would do such a thing unless coerced. Are there men of Clanfield who might see a painted wagon upon the road, realize that the wife of a wealthy knight likely traveled within, and plot to take her for ransom? Men who have access to a cart?”

  I did not add that the bailiff’s reputation might include him among such potential felons. ’Twould be impolitic to do so, regardless of the truth of the matter. And even if he was not one of those who had captured Lady Philippa, he might search for the culprits not to bring them to justice but to demand a share of their loot should Sir Aymer be required to ransom his wife.

  But there was also a chance that he might deal justly, being perhaps chagrined that a lady traveling through his manor could be taken. The felony would not show his governance in a good light. So I stood before him and asked of disreputable men of his bailiwick.

  Clanfield’s bailiff pulled at his beard and produced the impression of a man in deep thought. “Henry Burton is not to be trusted, nor Bogo Bennyng.”

  “Any others?” I asked.

  “Janyn Hoard has been accused of stealing another man’s furrow so often ’tis a common matter of contention at hallmote.”

  “You believe any of these three have the pluck to venture stealing a lady from her wagon?”

  “You believe one man did the felony?” Skirlaw said.

  “Nay. Two women were within the wagon. Though I suppose one man might subdue two women were they surprised to the point of confusion and paralysis, and if he held a dagger to the throat of one of them.”

  “But you think not?” the bailiff said. “And the codger who drove the team being so blind and deaf that even if the lady managed to call out he’d not have heard?”

  ’Twas a question, not a declaration. I had already described John the wagoner to him.

  “Aye. A man with the ears he was born with would likely have heard the lady or her servant gasp, even if they did not, or could not, call for aid,” I said. “But the others of Sir Aymer’s party were far enough from the wagon because of the hill that a soft cry of surprise would not, I suppose, have carried to them.”

  “Teach that knight to keep better watch over his lady, eh?”

  “Aye, perhaps. The men you named, I wish to speak to them. Will you collect them for me? This day. I would investigate this matter with each man privily, before they take the chance to put their heads together and create some tale to absolve themselves…if they are the felons I seek.”

  We spoke in the street, before the bailiff’s house. He motioned to a bench made of a beech log split in half, drawn up before the village well, across the street. “Wait there. Bogo is with the reeve and several others, ditching. Janyn and Henry are haying upon Sir William’s meadow. Or they’re supposed to be.”

  The bailiff’s concluding remark indicated that he thought it conceivable Janyn and Henry might abscond from their week-work without his oversight.

  The bailiff strode away to the south, leaving Arthur and me with Giles and the grooms at the well. A few moments later a little lass appeared carrying a bucket. The child did not at first notice us. We stood in the shade of the roof and a nearby tree. When she did catch a glimpse of five strange men at her village well she skidded to a stop, peered suspiciously at us, then turned on her heels and hurried back in the direction she had come.

  The lass was likely upon an errand for her mother. Perhaps the mother would come for water instead, and might be able to answer a question or two. I had in mind that the woman might have seen Lady Philippa’s wagon pass through the village. She had.

  The lass had disappeared behind a house which blocked my view down a side lane. Moments later a village matron marched into view, carrying the bucket. The woman eyed us with distrust, but held firmly to her course.

  I stepped back to allow the woman unfettered access to the crank, and greeted her.

  “I give you good day, madam.”

  Whether or not she was worthy of the appellation I cannot say, but I thought a bit of flattery might help my cause.

  The woman did not reply, but her tight-lipped features did soften. She busied herself with the bucket, rope, and crank, ignoring me.

  “I am Sir Hugh de Singleton, surgeon, and bailiff to Lord Gilbert Talbot at Bampton,” I said.

  Depending upon her opinion of Clanfield’s bailiff, which was likely not high, it may have been a mistake to identify myself in such a way. But the woman needed to know that I was of a neighboring village, and that I had authority there. Perchance she had heard my name.

  The woman filled her bucket, then spoke. “What does Lord Gilbert’s bailiff want w’me?”

  “Two days past travelers entered Clanfield on the road from Faringdon, bound for Bampton. A dozen or so men, mounted, and a painted wagon drawn by three runcies. Did you see them pass?”

  The woman hesitated, as if considering how her reply might affect her future. Evidently she decided that responding could have no ill effects. “Aye. I did.”

  “After they had departed the village did another cart appear?”

  “Carts is common,” the woman said.

  “Aye, but I’m interested in but one.”

  “There was a cart passed by soon after them gentlefolk with the wagon come through the village.”

  “Was there one man upon this cart, or two? Or more?”

  “Two, as I recall.”

  “Did you know the fellows? Were they men of Clanfield?”

  “Nay. Never seen ’em before.”

  “Did they take the Bampton road, or the way to Black Bourton?”

  “I don’t know. I ’ave too much to do to stand gawpin’ at strangers passin’ by.”

  From the corner of my eye I saw Clanfield’s bailiff and another man approach. The woman also saw and immediately turned to leave the well. She apparently did not want to be seen in discussion with Bampton’s bailiff. I thanked the matron to her back, then awaited the bailiff’s approach.

  “Sir Hugh, here is Bogo Bennyng.”

  The tenant tugged a forelock, but his expression did not reflect either deference or submission.

  “I give you good day,” I said. Then, to the bailiff, “Perhaps you could seek Janyn and Henry whilst I have discourse with Bogo.”

  ’Twas not a question, and the bailiff understood this. I wished to speak to Bogo alone.

  The man was clearly unwilling to speak to me. Had he something he wished to hide, or was he averse to conversation with any man who had authority over him – especially a bailiff?

  In past conversations with men who do not speak willingly I have discovered that I may loosen a man’s tongue if I require him to sit whilst I stand over him. And Arthur has come to understand his role in such interrogations. I pointed to the split log bench and invited Bogo to be seated. Arthur f
olded his brawny arms and stepped near to the fellow as he sat sullenly. Giles saw Arthur’s intimidating posture and imitated it, but without the same effect. I also find it useful in such interrogations to press my face close to the man I question. But not this time. Bogo’s odor would have driven a flock of sheep over a cliff. I kept my distance.

  “You are at work ditching this day, I am told. Is this along the Faringdon road?” I said, and looked to the south, whence the man and his bailiff had come.

  “Aye.”

  Bogo folded his arms and attempted to appear as imposing as Arthur. This was a failure.

  “For how many days have you been at this work?”

  “Since Monday.”

  “Two days past do you remember seeing a gentleman pass, with his grooms and valets, and his lady wife riding in a painted wagon?”

  “Aye. I seen ’em. I don’t know who was in the wagon. Covered, wasn’t it?”

  “After the travelers passed, who followed them?”

  “Followed? No man. Not that I seen. Busy with ditchin’.”

  “A cart with two men riding did not pass?”

  “Oh, aye. I forgot. None of us what was ditchin’ followed. I thought that’s what you meant.”

  “The knight and his party passed through Clanfield near to noon. Did you go to your dinner before or after the knight’s party passed?”

  “After.”

  “And then returned to your work along the Faringdon road?”

  “Aye.”

  “How many labor at this work?”

  “There’s me an’ Will an’ Hubert… an’ Walter, the reeve.”

  “These all returned to the work immediately after taking their dinner?”

  “Aye.”

  “As did you? The others will say that you did not linger over your dinner?”

  “Aye.”

  ’Twould be a simple matter to walk south to where the ditch was being cleared and discover if Bogo spoke true. I was inclined to believe him. Being seated while Arthur, I, and Giles stood over him had modified the fellow’s sulky demeanor. Yet I was suspicious enough that I considered seeking Clanfield’s reeve to verify Bogo’s claim.

  That would have to wait. I saw Thomas the bailiff coming from behind the church accompanied by two men, dust-caked and sweating from their labor with scythes. Would the fellows be resentful of my questions, or pleased to be briefly released from their labor?

  Janyn and Henry doffed caps and tugged forelocks as they drew near. Their demeanor was not so spleenish as Bogo’s had been. Did this mean they were guilty of something and feared being caught out? Or did it mean they were innocent of wrongdoing and so had no anxiety concerning this interview?

  I dismissed Bogo, and thought as I did so of a way to prove the truth of his assertion that he had returned to ditching after a brief dinner on the day that Lady Philippa went missing – and at the same time be free of Thomas Skirlaw’s inquisitive ears as I questioned Janyn and Henry.

  I motioned to the bailiff, drew him aside, and glanced toward Bogo as he walked away from the well. “Bogo said that two days past he saw Sir Aymer’s party pass while he was at work clearing ditches. ’Twas just before dinner. He claims to have taken his dinner and then returned immediately to ditching. Kindly seek the reeve and ask if this is so. Or was Bogo tardy at returning from his meal?” Skirlaw rolled his eyes but did as I requested.

  What Skirlaw had told Janyn and Henry of my reason for demanding discourse with them I did not know. “Did your bailiff tell you who I am and why I seek information of you?”

  “Aye,” one replied. “He said you was bailiff in Bampton. We’ve heard of you hereabouts, fixin’ what hurts folks have done to themselves or others. And he said there’s a lady gone missin’ on her way to Bampton.”

  “Indeed.”

  “I know nowt of any missin’ lady,” the other man said before I could say more.

  I motioned to the bench and bade the fellows sit. They did, caps in hand, and waited for me to continue. What questions might I ask? Should I inquire if, two days past, they had left off haying and seized a lady and her maid as she traveled the road from Clanfield to Bampton?

  A foolish question. Of course they would deny such a charge. Did they see Sir Aymer and his party pass? Not likely. The hayfield was not near the road Sir Aymer would have traveled. Nor would they have seen a cart following the same road. What might I learn from Janyn and Henry?

  “The crops were poor last year,” I began. The men nodded agreement. “Some men may take desperate measures to feed themselves and their offspring.”

  Again the fellows nodded, no spoken reply being necessary.

  “How many children do you have?” I asked.

  “Four,” one said. “Two… three soon,” said the younger of the two.

  “How are you providing for them?”

  “Me wife waters the pottage,” the older said. “An’ we don’t take corn to the miller no more. ’E keeps too much, so no loaves for us. The wife boils oats an’ barley to make pottage.”

  “I suppose some men are driven to poaching,” I said.

  Neither man spoke for a moment, which was answer enough, then the younger said, “Some as know how to set snares may take a coney.”

  “What else may men do to have coin to feed their children?” I said.

  The men exchanged glances but were silent.

  “What? All men of Clanfield are upright, and will hear their babes crying in the night for their empty bellies but do nothing malfeasant?”

  “I don’t know what others may do,” the younger man said. “Sir William has right of infangenthef an’ Skirlaw is a man to use it. I’d be no use to me wife an’ children under sod of t’churchyard.”

  “We of Clanfield,” the older man said, “be not so foolish as to take a lady and hold ’er for ransom, either. That’s what you’re after, is it not?”

  The man had divined my purpose. There was no reason to equivocate further.

  “Aye. Lady Philippa Molyns is missing. There is evidence that she was taken from her wagon, along with her maid, not more than four hundred paces from where you now sit.”

  Janyn and Henry turned as one to gaze at the Bampton road. Did this mean they knew something of the lady’s disappearance? Likely not. They knew of her travel to Bampton.

  There was little more to learn from these two. If they had taken the lady, or knew who had, I had not the wit to pry the knowledge from them. I sent the fellows back to their scythes, and as they passed beyond the village church Thomas Skirlaw strode into view. I was about to admit to my companions the failure of this visit to Clanfield as the bailiff reappeared. He made straight for us and seemed hurried.

  The man was unaccustomed to such exertion. He stopped before me, caught his breath, then announced between gasps that Bogo had shirked his work two days past. According to the reeve Bogo had not returned from his dinner in a timely fashion. Rather, the man had been an hour or more late in returning to the ditching. The reeve, Skirlaw said, had assigned Bennyng an extra day at ditching for his tardy return.

  Was an hour enough time to seize Lady Philippa and the maid? Not likely, especially if Bogo had acted alone. It would require more than an hour, I thought, to take the women, truss them up, and hide them in some secure location. Which would necessarily be close to the village. Likewise ’twould take more than an hour to drag an unwilling lady and her maid through a wood and bushes from the Bampton road to the Black Bourton road, there to meet some other man, or men, with a cart.

  What of Janyn and Henry? Did they also return tardily from their dinners on the day Sir Aymer’s party passed through Clanfield? Who would tell me if ’twas so? The haymakers had worked without supervision, so far as I knew. Would a tenant complain of another villager, or would such folk stick together?

  Chapter 4

  I thanked Skirlaw for the information and asked that he keep his eyes open. In particular I requested that he watch for any of his bailiwick who might in the
future seem to have come by wealth they had not previously possessed. I felt sure that Sir Aymer would soon receive a ransom demand. Indeed, he had already.

  We were halfway to Bampton when I heard a horse closing upon us. The rider was eager to reach his destination. I turned in my saddle to see if perchance Thomas Skirlaw had thought of or found new evidence regarding Lady Philippa’s disappearance. ’Twas not the Clanfield bailiff who approached at a canter.

  The fellow touched his cap and was about to pass us by when he recognized Giles and the grooms and slowed his beast. “You are Bampton’s bailiff, are you not?” he said to me.

  “Aye, I am.”

  “Then I have a message for you and your master. Sir Aymer this morning received a demand for ransom for Lady Philippa. Two pounds is required for her return.”

  Two pounds is a considerable sum, but should be within the means of a knight whose lands in two shires are of a respectable size. The lady’s captors knew their man, I thought.

  “I am to seek you,” the rider said, “and tell you that you are asked to deliver the ransom.”

  “Why me? I have nothing to do with Sir Aymer’s business. Who has named me to this duty?”

  “The ransom note, in a way,” the fellow said. “I will explain all when we reach Bampton.”

  I found Lord Gilbert in his solar, about to take his supper. Several guests attended him, gentlemen and ladies, but I did not wish for Sir Aymer’s groom to divulge to all that his lord had received a ransom demand.

  John Chamberlain announced us at the solar door and Lord Gilbert bade us enter.

  “Ah, Hugh, have you news? Who is your companion?”

  I glanced around the solar before I spoke. Lord Gilbert is quick-witted and divined my purpose. He turned to his guests. “Perhaps you will wish to attend your chambers to make ready for supper. I need to have conversation with my bailiff.”

  When the solar was emptied of Lord Gilbert’s guests I turned to the messenger who accompanied me, whose name I had not yet asked. “This fellow caught up to Arthur and me, Giles, and the others, upon the road returning to Bampton, a mile or so back. He comes with news from Sir Aymer.”