The Scandal of the Skulls

by Cassandra Clark

  ‘I was, domina, but on reflection I realised he was being foolish by playing into the hands of people who want to blame the apprentices for anything that hints of treason.’

  ‘Treason in Gloucester’s definition?’ she asked sharply.

  Jonathan was taken aback. ‘That is how the word is understood nowadays, is it not?’

  Gregory exchanged a glance with Hildegard. He turned to the friar. ‘We’re outsiders and don’t really understand how things work in a town like this. I mean,’ he put on a diffident expression, ‘there must be rival factions as in every town?’

  ‘I’ll say! You’ll witness that on May Day when all the Guilds are out! Those apprentices love nothing more than a pitched battle against their rivals. But of course it’s more than that at present.’ Suddenly eager to talk, as if unburdening himself, he said, ‘Until this Lent parliament the guild masters were open about their support for the king. Who wouldn’t be? Business is good when there’s peace. But now, everybody’s looking over their shoulders, wondering who’s going to be accused of treason next.’

  ‘We live in uncertain times,’ Gregory agreed.

  ‘The town itself goes with the prevailing wind,’ he continued. ‘Most people are keeping their heads down but many see the masons as trouble-causers. Fly-by-night journeymen, dabbling with magic numbers. The fact is the master’s inner circle are more - ’ he paused as if searching for an appropriate word, ‘let me say they take the long view.’

  ‘They have to. It’s in the nature of their work.’

  ‘It does not endear them to anyone.’ He fell silent.

  Eventually Gregory rose to his feet. ‘The domina and I were on the point of leaving. Before we go do you have anything else to tell us?’

  Jonathan shook his head. ‘Would that I had. Still no word from Westminster. Be sure I would tell you at once if there was anything new there. As for gossip, nobody’s talking to me. I’m seen as somebody set apart and I don’t doubt some see me and my brother friars as bought and paid for by Arundel.’

  ‘Arundel?’

  ‘After King Richard’s Dominican confessor, Friar Rushook, was sent into exile, we Franciscan friars are tarnished with an affinity we may not want.’

  When they were out of ear-shot Hildegard asked, ‘Is he bought?’

  ‘I doubt whether he could be. He’s out of the common mould even though he’s a local boy at heart. You heard what he said.’

  ‘I’m inclined to agree, but then,’ she gave him a sideways look, ‘maybe my faith in people is still intact as you believe and I should be more sceptical?’

  He laughed. ‘I feel confident in Jonathan. I understand the conflicts he faces. Personally I found it safer to go to Outremer and fight the Saracen than stay at home and fight with rival affinities.’ He gave a heart-felt sigh.

  Sister Elwis opened the wooden flap beside the door and peered out through the grille. A man’s voice asked to speak to Hildegard of Meaux.

  Hildegard, standing just inside the entrance hall, happened to hear the voice, recognised it, and shivered. Now it had come: the meeting she had been dreading because it could only end in confrontation.

  Sister Elwis closed the flap and turned to her. ‘Did you hear that, domina?’

  ‘I did. He must not enter under any circumstances.’ She gestured towards the chamber beyond which Frank was hidden. ‘Tell him I’ll step outside and have a word with him.’

  Sister Elwis conveyed this message and snapped the flap shut when she finished. ‘He suggested a tavern but I told him that did not accord with your wishes. I hope I was right?’

  ‘Indeed you were. My thanks.’

  With her cloak over her shoulders Hildegard stepped through the door as soon as Sister Elwis lifted the beam from its slot.

  De Lincoln was smiling affably when she appeared. She could not tell if he knew what had happened to his gold. The smile never left his face when he spoke. He gave a small bow full of a deference she did not trust.

  ‘Perhaps a little stroll along the street, domina? I’ve been riding and have the need to feel the good earth beneath my boots.’

  It seemed a reasonable request. As they moved off he gazed intently into her face. ‘You look more rested than when I last saw you. Fresh air and early nights?’

  Deciding which problem to treat with first she plunged in straightaway with the one closest to her heart.

  ‘I came here to Salisbury in order to meet my daughter. She lives in the household of the dowager countess at present staying at Clarendon, as I believe you know.’

  The smile remained on his face. ‘Ysabella. Indeed, I have had the pleasure of conversing with her. A most precocious child. One day she will be a great lady - unless her promise in that direction is thwarted.’

  ‘How could it be when the countess takes such care in her upbringing?’

  ‘Sometimes an accident can turn a promising future to dust.’

  ‘My daughter is well protected.’

  ‘Even the most careful protection is no proof against a wilful heart.’

  ‘True. But I trust nothing will so afflict my daughter. She has good sense.’

  ‘You have been informed of my offer, I see.’

  ‘I have.’

  ‘I understand your answer is a rejection?’

  ‘You are accurately informed.’

  ‘We shall have to see if your mind can be changed. I never give in - ’

  ‘Nor do I.’

  ‘Forgive me. I was about to say I never give in especially when my desire over-rides my common-sense. A great failing. You see, I am being frank with you.’

  ‘I would expect nothing less.’

  ‘Then we are at stalemate?’

  ‘It would seem so.’

  He gave her a long, penetrating look from those blank eyes that might have made her shrivel if she had not felt so fiercely opposed to him. His manner made her hackles rise. She did not trust herself to speak.

  His voice deepened suggestively. ‘These are mere practical matters of land and dowry, a means of promoting my family name and enhancing our fortune. That is one desire, an ambition as you might call it. It has little to do with matters of the heart.’ He bowed his head. ‘As you well know.’

  They walked on. Let him speak and dig his own grave, Hildegard thought in a red rage.

  ‘My lady,’ he said unexpectedly, ‘you know my heart is yours. It has been so ever since I witnessed your distress at Ludgate. Forgive me for reminding you of that horror. We are in a different time now when amends can be made. Ask whatever you wish of me, I am a penitent and will obey until I have gained your forgiveness.’

  Hildegard walked slowly on and felt him following at her heels like a suitor. She was boiling with anger. When she reached the market cross on the junction of Silver Street and Butcher Row she came to a halt. Friar Jonathan was standing near the poultry cross giving another of his orations. Faintly over the buzz of the crowd came the words, truth, fidelity, honour.

  When she turned de Lincoln’s eyes were boring into the back of her head. Their glances locked and he murmured, ‘I mean what I say.’

  ‘On all counts?’

  ‘All.’

  That was that, she told herself. On the matter of Ysabella’s marriage, stalemate. Ignoring his clumsy attempt to cozen her, the burning question now was whether he knew what had happened to his tainted gold. He gave no sign that he knew it had not reached its destination.

  As she bided her time he talked lightly of this and that and when they reached the stalls at the end of the butchers’ shops he bought a small bird, a song thrush or some such, roasted on a skewer and offered it.

  She drew back. ‘Not a meat day, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Something sweet to tease your appetite then?’

  Like a courting swain he found a stall offering sugared almonds in a twist of rice paper and pushed the sticky morsel into her hand.

  ‘How beautiful you look in the sunlight,’ he murmured. ‘I long to see y
ou without this coif.’ His fingers skimmed the border. ‘I couldn’t help but notice your hair - ’ he sighed. ‘My deepest apologies for dwelling on the painful past. It seems I cannot forget my first sight of you. Your courage against the mob. You were pale, noble, anguished - and so doomed.’ He sighed again. ‘Would that we had not met in such violent circumstances.’

  Hildegard was looking for some way to get away from him but he was sticking to her side with no apparent intention of leaving her. She did not expect him to hint at his next move with regard to Ysabella. He was too astute for that. Now it seemed he was not going to admit that he had been bested in the plan to free Sir Simon either.

  They walked on through the boisterous shouts of the street vendors until they came to the great square. There he took her by the arm.

  ‘I must show you something that will interest you. Come.’

  ‘What is it?’ She drew back.

  ‘It’s where the pilgrims start their walk to Canterbury to worship at St Becket’s shrine. It’s the most holy place in Salisbury. Look, it’s just down here.’

  Before she could resist he was pushing her ahead of him down a narrow alley.

  At the far end she could see the sunlit wall of St Thomas’s church with the door standing open. From inside a choir was singing and she realised it was one of the little hours, but which one? Tierce? Sext? Everything was in such turmoil.

  Confused she half turned but de Lincoln, bigger and stronger, simply herded her deeper into the alley until they came to a garden behind a row of houses and there he stopped and pushed her suddenly against the wall.

  Before she realised what was happening his mouth hovered over hers then he roughly took her in a savage kiss. She struggled. He countered her resistance by pressing himself full length against her.

  Out of the corners of her eyes she noticed a man come out of one of the houses and walk towards them. As he walked past he muttered, ‘Give her a good ‘un, master, one for me an’ all.’

  De Lincoln lifted his mouth for a moment. ‘You see, my lady, everyone is on my side.’ Then he brought his mouth hard down over her own again before she could turn her head.

  Hildegard clawed at his face so he twisted both her hands behind her back and held them there then he began to grind his pelvis against hers. She kicked out but missed and it made him laugh. Then he abruptly let her go.

  ‘In public, in daylight, is not my style, nor is it appropriate for what I have in mind. I promise you will enjoy what I have to offer.’

  ‘You are so wrong!’ she hissed as she backed away.

  ‘Not from what I hear. I believe we shall have a shared pleasure you will be begging for.’

  ‘Never!’ She pushed him hard in the chest but he merely laughed.

  ‘I like a wild woman who gives as good as she gets.’

  She recalled his description of her to the tavern-keeper at the Cat. ‘Where do you get the idea you know me?’ she spat.

  ‘You know where.’

  The look on his face made her cheeks blanch.

  ‘Yes,’ he murmured huskily. ‘From him. You should have known better than to trust a spy.’ He chuckled with open malice. ‘Our mutual friend, the sainted Rivera,’ he began to laugh. ‘You should have heard what he said about you! Nice work if you can get it, I told him, and he certainly agreed. At least he went happily to meet his maker thanks to you and your - ’

  Hildegard’s palm landed with such a crack across his face, the force made his head jerk back.

  She watched the red mark deepen in the growth of blond hair on his jaw. ‘Keep Rivera out of this. Toad!’

  Before he could recover she spun on her heel and started off down the passage towards the street. He was after her at once. She swivelled back to hit him again but he gripped her round the waist and pulled her roughly towards him.

  His blank eyes were alive with spite. ‘You’ll pay for that.’ He covered her mouth with his own then lifted his head almost at once. ‘Later, my lady. Then I shall collect. Now hold back. Things waited for are best, as they say in Compostela.’

  He pushed her against the wall so he could pass. She watched him walk briskly towards the street. Fury was in her eyes and the knife in her sleeve was asking to be plunged into his back. Only the vow to do no harm prevented her.

  When he reached sunlight he turned. ‘Patience, Mistress York. I shall not leave you unsatisfied for long.’

  The exit gaped with his abrupt absence.

  Hildegard walked rapidly through the streets, scarcely aware of where she was going but somehow conscious that her steps eventually led back to St Thomas’s. She found the main doors and went inside.

  The Office was over and few people remained. A sacristan was going round dowsing candles. Incense swamped the air with its perfume. Her lips moved but it was to release the rage and sorrow in her heart and she expected no response but what she could supply for herself.

  Rivera. Always that grief. The continuing sense of loss.

  She tried to think of Hubert de Courcy. His goodness. His compassion. But she felt unworthy of his forgiveness even though it had been freely offered, without words being exchanged, as soon as he guessed the nature of her relationship with Rivera and the events that had led to it.

  She imagined he would believe she had acted on orders from Medford and the king’s faction to wrest secrets from Rivera’s Lancastrian masters.

  Nothing is further from the truth, she whispered. And the one man who can give me absolution must never know the depth of my desire for Rivera, nor the extent of my grief without him.

  It had no bearing on her feelings to hear de Lincoln make his lying insinuations about Rivera’s honour. She had known the man and trusted his integrity above all else.

  Finding no solace even in such a place as this, she finally made her way back to her lodgings. It was late by this time and the building was in darkness as the sleepy portress on night duty let her in. While the nuns slumbered she made her way heavily up to her chamber to try to find sleep herself.

  TWENTY NINE

  ‘That fellow returned yesterday, late on.’ Sister Elwis looked worried. From the kitchens came the smell of freshly baking bread for the morning repast. Hildegard was just returning from Lauds. By the tone of the sister’s voice she knew she was referring to de Lincoln. She didn’t want to think about him ever again.

  The nun continued. ‘He asked if you were back and I told him no. He asked me to give you this.’ She handed Hildegard a scroll sealed with red wax.

  ‘Thank you. I’ll read it in my chamber.’

  ‘Domina - ’ the nun put out a hand. ‘Remember we are friends here.’

  ‘I am aware of that and live in gratitude with the knowledge. When I am able... ’ She hesitated, the mason, Frank almost forgotten, and added guiltily, ‘Is our invalid - ?’

  ‘Sleeping again. Don’t give him another thought. The serjeant knows better than to come bothering us.’

  With the nun’s worried glance following her she ascended the stairs to the privacy of the guest chamber and as soon as the door was closed she peeled off de Lincoln’s seal and unrolled a piece of vellum. A scribe had obviously written the message for him. It was very clear and very short.

  Hildegard gave a moan and bunched her fists after she read it.

  ‘If you wish to see your daughter before she is given in marriage to me you must return the gold I handed to you. It might serve as an addition to her dowry now its true purpose is thwarted? Dear heart. Be patient. These matters will soon be settled. I am yours.’

  If I wish to see her? What did he mean by that? There was only one thing to do. She had to ride to Clarendon at once to find out from the countess what was going on.

  Sister Elwis was pleased to have a role. She called her servant and sent him briskly with a message to Brother Gregory informing him that Hildegard was riding to the palace and would he please follow as soon as he could.

  ‘That will bring him!’ she exclaimed as Hildegard,
cloak thrown haphazardly over her shoulders, hurried from the house.

  And what did he mean its true purpose thwarted? Had he given up on trying to entrap King Richard’s supporters? Its true purpose? Did he accept that his attempt to ensnare Sir Simon Burley’s allies had come to nothing?

  Maybe Burley has already been released? She prayed with all her heart that it was so but then her thoughts dragged back to the fate of her daughter. If I wish to see her? What did he mean by suggesting such a condition?

  She made good time over the four miles to Clarendon but as she approached the gate house a strange silence hung over the place. Instead of the usual coming and going of servants and visitors and the cohort of militia checking everyone in only one elderly guard sat outside. He was dozing in the morning sunshine and jerked awake when she called down to him. From within the courtyard came no sound either, no clop of horses’ hooves, no shouts from the dray men, nor creak of carts bringing produce in from the granges.

  Under a warm sun a kind of drowsiness held sway as if the palace and its purlieus were under a spell. The guard merely nodded her through when he recognised her before letting his head droop again.

  Without wasting time she dismounted and passed under the west gate. There was no one about. In the middle of the yard one of the little table dogs sat in the sunlight scratching for fleas.

  With a lurch of alarm she dropped the reins of the hired palfrey and hurried over to the main entrance doors and pushed them open.

  No-one came to greet her as she entered the Great Hall. In a far corner a servant was idly wielding a broom over the tiles.

  ‘Where is everyone?’ Hildegard’s voice echoed loudly in the empty vault.

  The servant glanced up. Confused by her abrupt appearance he merely gawped.

  ‘Well? Where is everyone?’ she demanded?

  ‘Gone, domina.’

  Hildegard hurried over. ‘Gone? Where to?’

  ‘To Gaunt’s palace.’

  ‘What palace? What are you talking about?’

  ‘Gone to Gaunt’s palace, domina. His hunting lodge near Winchester.’