by Ann Swinfen
Fool girl! Why had she not stayed in the cart? Precarious as it was, it would have offered some protection from the alaunts. Now she was out in the open and would not stand a chance. Those dogs could outrun her, drag her to the ground, kill her, long before anyone could reach her.
But perhaps I was mistaken. The alaunts could easily have jumped into the cart, and for the moment it was the cart which drew them, as they followed by instinct and training after the lymers, but if Emma could burrow into those thick bushes, or better still, climb a tree, she might escape their jaws. Yet how could she climb a tree? I realised that she was holding her little dog, Jocosa, and it would be impossible to climb one handed, even supposing the girl knew how to climb a tree. And the little dog – clearly as terrified as Rufus – was struggling.
I drove my heels had into Rufus’s flanks and headed straight for them.
As soon as Emma had seen Falke Malaliver leading his company of armed men, with his hunting lymers pursuing the cart, she knew that she was being tracked as relentlessly as a hunted deer. At any moment the dogs would lead her stepfather and his men to the candle-makers’ cart. She would be captured, dragged back to Godstow, humiliated and ashamed. And these people, Aelwith and her family, who had taken her in and befriended her, never questioning who she was or why she was wandering the countryside alone – they would suffer the full force of Malaliver’s wrath. He could destroy them, if the dogs had not killed them first..
‘Father!’ Aelwith had also realised that they were being pursued. ‘A band of armed men after us. Whip up the horses! Us’ll be safe, come us get near the castle.’
‘Outlaws, is it?’ Edwin yelled back over his shoulder, as he whipped the horses to a speed that was dangerous.
‘Aye,’ Aelwith shouted.
‘Nay.’ Emma laid her hand on Aelwith’s arm. ‘Those are no outlaws. It is me they are hunting. That man in front is my stepfather, and he means me nothing but evil. See, he is releasing his alaunts for the kill. I will not let him harm you.’
She caught up Jocosa under her arm, then leaned forward and kissed Aelwith lightly on the cheek.
‘Go as fast as you may for the castle. The dogs will follow me.’
Without another word, she leapt from the cart and began to run for the copse of beech trees.
At the front of the cart, Edwin had not seen her go, but continued to drive as fast as he dared, faster by far than was safe. Aelwith threw down her spindle and stumbled forward along the perilously rocking cart, trying to reach him.
It was not far to the copse, and Emma had noticed the thick undergrowth of bushes and brambles beneath. She flew across the beaten turf between, clutching a struggling and terrified Jocosa to her chest. At first the lymers did not notice her. They had fixed on the cart as their quarry, and were still following it, the huge alaunts coming up behind, trained to follow where the lymers led and to finish off the quarry unless the huntsmen called them off.
Emma threw herself to the ground and began to crawl into the thickest part of the bushes, dragging Jocosa with her, despite the dog’s yelps of protest. The thorns of the brambles snagged her clothes and she spared one hand to clamp John Barnes’s cap to her head. Glancing back, she saw both lymers and alaunts still following the cart, but any minute now the lymers would pick up her fresh trail and follow her here. If only she could burrow into the tangle of brambles and ivy, where they might hesitate to follow her. Surely her stepfather would call off the dogs, would he not? He wanted to find her, to bend her to his will. How could it profit him if the dogs were to kill her?
Then through a gap in the bushy undergrowth she saw that there was another horseman approaching from the Oxford road. Was this another of her stepfather’s men, and she to be trapped between them, caught like a lamb in the jaws of a wolf? If Malaliver had another troop on the road ahead, she was surrounded. For a moment she felt nothing but black despair and gave a great sob. Her grip on Jocosa weakened and the dog, who was now in a blind panic, struggled free from her arms and fled out from under the bushes by the way they had come. She tore away, running as fast as her short legs would carry her, away from the hunting pack and toward the solitary horseman.
The vicious brutes would kill Jocosa at once. They must be ten times her weight. They would break her neck, or tear out her throat. Emma began to drag herself backwards out of the bushes. Only she could save Jocosa. She must reach the dog before the hunt did.
I had passed the cart now. The tracking dogs were still following it, the alaunts coming up behind, but any moment now they would realise that their quarry was no longer there. I headed Rufus toward the bushes where Emma had taken refuge. If I could reach her before the dogs, before Malaliver . . . If I could get her away from this horror of the hunt . . .
Suddenly a ball of white fur burst from under the bushes right in front of Rufus, who reared in fright. I struggled to keep my seat and to bring Rufus down without crushing the dog, which had stopped suddenly, confused. Rufus’s near fore missed her by inches. Leaning down from the saddle, I grabbed the dog by the scruff of her neck and scooped her up before she could be crushed by one of Rufus’s hooves.
The bushes thrashed wildly, and Emma crawled out, white but defiant, ready to challenge me.
‘Emma!’ I called. ‘It is Nicholas Elyot. Come quickly.’
Already the lymers had picked up her scent in the grass and were wavering uncertainly between the cart they had been following and this new trail. Emma hesitated only a moment, then tore across to me.
‘Put your foot on mine,’ I ordered, shifting the dog to my right arm, but keeping a hold on the reins, for Rufus was beginning to circle nervously. There was sweat on his neck and his ears were laid back.
Emma tried to do as I bid, but Rufus kept moving. At last she managing it.
‘Give me your hand. Nay, the other one.’
I gripped her hand, lost it, grabbed her upper arm so hard I knew I was hurting her, and dragged her on her stomach across the horse’s withers. Both dogs and men were nearly on us now. Somehow she understood what to do and managed to fling her leg over so that she was sitting in front of the saddle.
‘Take the dog.’
We were in a tangle of reins and dog and horse’s mane, but I managed to turn Rufus so that we were facing back the way I had come. Just as I urged him forward, one of the alaunts made a leap for Emma’s leg. She shrieked as the brute sank his teeth in. I swung the slack of the reins to whip them across the dog’s face and it dropped to the ground. Rufus kicked out and the animal let out a yelp, then we were galloping back toward Oxford, following the fast disappearing cart.
Emma gave a shaky laugh. ‘It near had me then.’
‘Aye. I think it had not managed a proper grip. They are trained never to let go.’
There was blood running down her leg, and the dogs were still following. I could hear the thunder of the horsemen behind them, but did not look round. I had my arms around Emma, holding the reins in front of her, while the dog Jocosa trembled in her arms.
‘Can you lean your head to the side?’ I said. ‘I find it difficult to see through John Barnes’s cap.’
She turned her head round to look at me, ignoring my request. ‘You know about John Barnes?’
‘Aye. Now will you move your head? We need to reach the castle before they catch us. I must be able to see the road.’
This time she lowered her head, but also managed to twist and look behind.
‘My stepfather is shouting at you to stop. Does he know you?’
‘Unfortunately. Let him shout.’
Despite the hunt, I was suddenly, gloriously happy. Emma’s body was pressed up against mine. I could feel the warmth of it, and her weight against my chest. I would probably never again hold her like this, but I would savour every moment while I could.
Rufus had nearly caught up with the cart and despite his double load had managed to outrun Malaliver and his men, who were hampered by the crowd of dogs milling in confusion abo
ut their legs. I could hear the huntsmen sounding their horns: ‘Come away, come away’. It would be some time before all the dogs, lymers and alaunts, had been called to order. I hoped it would give us time to reach the castle first and report to Cedric Walden.
‘Why were you in that mountebanks’ cart?’ I asked, once I believed that Malaliver was too much hampered to catch us. We were passing the cart, and I saw that Emma waved and smiled at a woman who was now sitting between the old man and the boy. The driver had slowed his horses to a steadier pace, but they were still alarmed, snorting and blowing, gobbets of foam flecking their jaws.
‘They are not mountebanks,’ Emma said indignantly. ‘They are travelling candle-makers and very respectable people. They have just been at Osney Abbey. They taught me to make candles, so if I needs must earn my keep, I can become a candle-maker.’
I smiled into the back of John Barnes’s cap, thinking of Sir Anthony’s estate. ‘I do not think it will come to that,’ I said.
As we reached the first of the bridges, I slowed Rufus to a sober pace. I was fairly certain Malaliver would not try any tricks with dogs now that we were amongst houses and workshops. By going more slowly, I could prolong my time close to Emma. She sighed and leaned back against my chest. Her body had gone slack and I realised she had lapsed into that time of weakness and exhaustion that follows sudden terror and flight.
‘It was brave of you to lead the dogs away from those people,’ I said. ‘The candle-makers.’
She yawned and curled up closer to me. ‘Aelwith was very good to me. And Jak is just a child. I could not let them be hurt.’
‘You still have ink on your fingers,’ I said.
‘Aye, and wax under my nails. I must not forget, I have something for you.’
She patted an untidy bundle of oiled cloth, tied at her waist with a length of rope. I opened my mouth to speak, then closed it again. Time enough for that later.
‘Where are we going?’ Then she stiffened. ‘You will not take me back to Godstow?’
‘Never fear. We will go first to the castle, and report to the deputy sheriff. He must be told that Malaliver has disobeyed his orders and loosed his killing dogs against a human quarry. After that, I will take you to your aunt.’
‘Good.’ She relaxed, her head falling on to my shoulder.
‘And your leg must be seen to. Are you in pain?’
‘Not much.’
She yawned again. By the time we reached Bookbinders’ Bridge, she was asleep.
Chapter Twelve
‘So you have found the maid.’ Cedric Walden himself had spied us as we neared the castle and had come out into the bailey to meet us. The guards at the gate had admitted us without question and with considerably more courtesy than I had received on a previous occasion.
‘Aye.’ I smiled grimly. ‘Found her being pursued by Falke Malaliver not only with lymers but with alaunts. He loosed them, and one has torn her leg.’
I nodded toward Emma’s blood stained hose. My hands were full, for I was not only stopping her from sliding off Rufus’s back but keeping a precarious hold on the little dog, which had very nearly slipped to the ground when Emma fell asleep.
‘The cart you see coming along behind us,’ I said, ‘let them be received courteously. They will bear witness to what I have to tell you.’
Shortly before we had reached the castle I had reined in Rufus and waited for the cart to catch me up, before asking the driver that he should follow us to the castle in order to explain what had happened.
‘Aye, maister, willingly,’ he said, ‘but we’m expected to Essex College. ’Twon’t mean bidin’ long?’
‘Only long enough to tell what you saw – the chase, and the dogs loosed after the maid.’
‘Wicked, that was,’ the woman sitting beside him said. ‘Wicked.’
Falke Malaliver, I observed, had dropped back, but was still following, his men now riding in immaculate order, the lymers walking docilely on chains with the huntsmen. The alaunts, I saw, had disappeared.
Now in the bailey of the castle I felt we were safe at last. Malaliver would not dare to make any attempt to hurt Emma before such witnesses as the deputy sheriff and the garrison, but I was sure he would not give up his claims on her person at all easily.
‘Take the dog from me,’ I said to Walden, who was too surprised to refuse as I lowered Jocosa into his arms. Having fully recovered her spirits, she licked him on the nose, which he took in good part, although he lost no time in setting her on her feet.
As though she felt the loss of the dog’s soft fur against her arm, Emma stirred and woke. For a moment she stayed limp in my arms, then she sat forward and looked over her shoulder at me.
‘Where are we? Is this Oxford castle? By Jesu, it is uncomfortable riding on a horse’s shoulders without a saddle.’
I laughed. ‘I apologise, my lady, but we lacked the time to find you a pillion.’
As though she suddenly realised that I was still holding her close in my arms, she blushed a fiery red.
‘I had best dismount,’ she said.
‘Aye,’ I said, although I did not immediately release her. ‘How is your leg?’
She considered, bending her knee slightly. There was a long gash in her left calf.
‘It does sting,’ she admitted, ‘more than it did before.’ She rubbed the back of her hand across her face. ‘Had I not best get down?’
‘Stay there a moment.’
Reluctantly I swung myself out of the saddle, then reached up and took her about the waist to lift her down. When her feet touched the ground she did not immediately pull away, but stood facing me, my hands still at her waist, her hands on my shoulders. We stared at each other, and I ran my tongue nervously over my lips.
‘I owe you my life, I think, Master Elyot.’
She was so close I could feel her breath on my cheek.
‘A life worth saving, Mistress Thorgold,’ I said, and chided myself for a tongue tied fool.
There was no time for more. The candle-makers’ cart had rumbled into the bailey, and now Falke Malaliver and his men were crowded through the gate behind it. Emma and I drew apart. The dog Jocosa, who had been exploring the bailey, ran back to Emma in alarm at the sight of the lymers and was caught up into the safety of her mistress’s arms.
‘There she is!’ It was Malaliver shouting and pointing at Emma. ‘The shameless wench, humiliating the family, reneging on her religious vows, stealing away from the house of God, turning the shire upside down in the hunt, running about the countryside in those – those – villein’s rags!’
His face was so red I thought he might have an apoplexy.
‘And as for you, fellow.’ He swung round on his heel and pointed at me. ‘I called to you to stop. You know she is mine, and you ignored me. You had no business riding off with her like that. What did you mean by it?’
‘What I meant by it,’ I said quietly, ‘was to save her before she was killed by your dogs. And to bring her to the safety of the castle and the deputy sheriff.’
He made a scoffing noise. ‘Killed by my dogs? They would never harm man or beast. Gentle as doves, they are, but skilled in finding her out.’
The lymers, who were now stretched out asleep on the beaten earth of the bailey, did indeed look as harmless as they were.
‘I grant you,’ I said, ‘that your lymers were no danger to her. I am speaking of your alaunts.’
‘My alaunts? My alaunts are shut up in kennels at Godstow. You are weaving a web of lies, Elyot.’
‘There are plenty here who saw you loose your alaunts on the maid. If your men are too afraid to admit it now, these good people saw what happened.’ I gestured toward the candle-makers’ cart. They were standing beside it: a woman, three men, and a boy who was clearly enjoining every minute of his adventure.
‘And for further proof,’ I said, ‘one of the alaunts tore the lady’s leg before I could get her away.’
I pointed to the gashed leg, whic
h was still bleeding. Walden came closer to observe it better.
‘’Tis all true, sir.’ The older man stepped forward and addressed Cedric Walden. Apart from one sharp glance, he ignored Malaliver. ‘This man come after us with his trackin’ dogs first. Chasin’ after the maid, they was, usin’ that for scent.’
He pointed to the bundle of black cloth which one of the huntsmen still held tucked under his arm. The man, suddenly aware of it, tried to hide the bundle behind his back, but Walden walked over and took it away from him. He shook it out. As I had guessed, it was a novice’s habit, creased now and somewhat torn, but unmistakable.
‘Is this yours, mistress?’ he said.
Emma nodded.
Walden turned to the man. ‘And then?’
‘Then they brought up them killin’ dogs. Alaunts, is it? Let them off their chains. I thought we was for it, and whipped up the horses. The maid, she jumps from the cart, runs for the bushes, see, drawin’ then away from us. Tells us to drive on. Dogs follow us for a bit, then turn aside after her. And they’d have had her too, if this gentleman hadn’t come along.’
‘Well, Master Elyot?’ Walden said. ‘Does that agree with what you saw?’
‘It does,’ I said, ‘in every detail. One of the dogs caught the lady’s leg in his jaws as I was lifting her on to my horse, but we managed to drive it off. Then I rode here as fast as the horse could carry us. In the meantime it is clear that Malaliver sent his alaunts away, so that you would believe he had still kept to your orders.’
Malaliver glowered at me. ‘All lies. These vagabonds have been bribed to tell some tale. I sought only to find my stepdaughter. And now that I have found her, I demand that you hand her back to me, churl.’
Emma had slipped behind me, still holding Jocosa, who favoured me with a lick on my ear. It was difficult to keep my temper when I was so insulted, but I knew it would be no help to Emma if I lost it.
‘Sheriff,’ I said, addressing Walden but staring hard at Malaliver, ‘it is clear from the evidence of all of us, and from the injury to the lady, that this man has disobeyed your orders and broken the law, by hunting an innocent and helpless girl with killing dogs. I am sure, also, that his men, in private, and with the right persuasion, will be prepared to admit what happened.’
