The Bone Fire

by The Bone Fire (retail) (epub)

  ‘Has Hans killed before?’ I asked.

  De Groot hesitated to answer this question. ‘No,’ he said, his voice trembling.

  ‘You don’t sound so sure about that?’

  ‘It was just a story, invented by the villagers,’ he insisted. ‘The girl was killed by somebody else. They all tried to blame it on Hans . . . Because, because—’ He was unable to finish this sentence.

  I felt a wave of revulsion wash through me. ‘Hans is a killer, isn’t he? You’ve always known that.’

  The man stumbled over his words. ‘No, he’s not,’ he sobbed. ‘I cured him.’

  ‘But you didn’t, did you? You only succeeded in protecting the boy so that he had the opportunity to kill again.’

  ‘That’s not true,’ he said adamantly.

  I leant down and grasped the man’s tunic, pulling it tightly about his neck. He did not struggle against me. ‘You can’t protect Hans any longer, de Groot. You must tell me where he is.’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Yes you do.’

  De Groot trembled. ‘I’m telling you the truth, my Lord. If I knew how to find Hans, then I would tell you without a moment of hesitation.’ I tightened my grip. ‘Please,’ he begged. ‘Please. Ask Edwin of Eden. He knows what’s happened to Hans.’

  ‘Why do you say that?’

  De Groot was breathing rapidly – his face glowed and his brow was covered with sweat. ‘Edwin of Eden came to our workroom. To see Hans on the night that Hesket was killed. He gave my nephew a bag of coins.’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘Hans wouldn’t tell me,’ he sobbed. ‘My nephew disappeared, before I could get an answer from him.’

  I stood up. ‘You should have told me this before, de Groot.’

  He looked up at me, his face stained with tears. ‘I couldn’t believe Hans was involved in these murders, Lord Somershill. I thought that I had cured him.’

  I woke Edwin from his sleep, though the man was not in bed. Instead he was huddled into a ball on the floor, curled up like a cat around an empty goblet of wine. Edwin had moved into Godfrey’s bedchamber since throwing a bucket through the window of his own room – but he had managed to transport the stink of that chamber into this one. Once again my nose was assaulted by the oily, musky scent of ferrets.

  Edwin rubbed his eyes and stretched out his short arms. When he saw my face, he groaned. ‘What do you want, de Lacy? I was asleep.’

  ‘Get up. I need to speak to you.’

  He rubbed his face again and yawned. ‘What’s that stench?’ he said. ‘It smells like a bone fire.’

  ‘There’s been another murder,’ I told him. ‘The Fool has been burnt to death.’

  Edwin struggled to his feet and then grasped the blanket from the bed, wrapping it about his shoulders. ‘What happened?’

  There was no time to explain. ‘Where’s Hans?’ I asked instead.

  Edwin regarded me for a moment, puffed his lips in a show of exasperation and then wandered towards the window, affecting an interest in the view. ‘Not this again, de Lacy,’ he said, in a wearied tone. ‘How many times do I have to say the same thing? I know nothing about Hans.’

  ‘Yes you do,’ I replied calmly. ‘I’ve always suspected that you were involved in these murders. But now I have evidence.’

  Edwin bristled, but continued to look out of the window. ‘What evidence?’ he said, feigning indifference.

  ‘You gave Hans a purse of coins on the night that Hesket was murdered. De Groot saw you.’

  He spun back to face me. ‘I did not.’

  ‘Stop lying to me, Edwin,’ I said. ‘It’s twice that you’ve been seen giving a purse of coins to Hans. Twice that the Dutchman has committed murder.’

  ‘You’ve got this completely wrong,’ he said. ‘I certainly did not pay Hans to kill Lord Hesket.’

  ‘Then what were the coins for?’

  He turned away from me. ‘None of your business.’

  I stepped closer to him. ‘I think I’ll lock you into the dungeon this time, Edwin. Rather than a warm bedchamber. A few days in a cold, damp cell should concentrate your mind.’

  Edwin pulled the blanket about his shoulders. ‘You wouldn’t dare,’ he said. ‘Sir Robert wouldn’t let you.’

  ‘Don’t fool yourself, Edwin,’ I said. ‘Lyndham would have no compunction in dragging you down to the dungeon. Not now that his friend William Shute has been burnt to death.’

  ‘That’s not true. Lyndham is on my side.’

  ‘He wants to find Hans as much as I do,’ I said. ‘Lyndham would turn the key to the dungeon himself, if it meant getting to the truth.’

  Edwin stared at me for a while, before he returned his eyes to the window. ‘Very well, de Lacy,’ he said, after a long silence. ‘As it happens, I did give Hans a few coins that night.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I wanted him to do something for me.’

  ‘What was it?’

  He hesitated again, and then looked at me with a sideways glance. ‘Before I tell you, I want you to know that this had nothing to do with these murders,’ he said. ‘You’ve got to understand that. I couldn’t predict that the Dutchman would turn into this murderous lunatic, could I?’

  ‘What did you ask him to do, Edwin?’ I repeated.

  He took a deep breath. ‘All right. All right. Don’t rush me,’ he said. ‘I asked Hans to leave the castle and find Godfrey’s wife and child.’

  ‘What?’

  He smiled awkwardly. ‘I wanted to offer them sanctuary inside this castle, you see. It’s what Godfrey would have wanted. You said so yourself.’

  I spent a moment stunned by the audaciousness of this lie, before a terrible realisation dawned upon me. ‘God’s bones, Edwin,’ I said. ‘You sent a murderer to the house of a defenceless woman and child.’

  He pulled the blanket about his shoulders. ‘As I said before, de Lacy. I had no idea of the Dutchman’s bloodthirsty nature.’

  ‘That’s not true,’ I said. ‘You knew Hans’s nature well enough. That’s exactly why you sent him there.’

  He backed away from me. ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ he stuttered, heading for the door.

  ‘You didn’t send the Dutch boy there to offer Godfrey’s wife and son sanctuary,’ I said, making sure to follow him across the room. ‘You sent Hans to kill them both, didn’t you? Particularly the boy who would take your title.’

  He made a bid for escape, but I caught up with him beside the bed, where I grasped hold of him by the back of his scrawny neck and pushed his face into a bolster. He struggled violently and squealed to be released, but I was determined to get the truth from him at last. As he struggled to breathe, I suddenly regretted not having listened to Filomena’s advice all those days ago. I should have tortured an answer from this monster much, much earlier.

  ‘How did Hans get out of this castle?’ I asked, pulling his head back for a moment so that he could take a quick breath.

  ‘I don’t know,’ he sobbed, blowing a feather from his mouth.

  I pushed his face back against the bolster again. ‘Of course you do, Edwin,’ I said, speaking into his ear. ‘Otherwise how could you ask Hans to leave?’

  I pulled his head up again, giving him the opportunity to give me a better answer this time. ‘All right, all right, de Lacy,’ he groaned. ‘Just let go of me. I can’t tell you anything, if I can’t breathe.’ I was tempted to push his face back against the bolster until he couldn’t take another breath, ever again, but I let this urge pass.

  ‘There is a tunnel,’ he said at length. ‘You were right about that.’

  ‘Where is it?’

  He hesitated until I threatened to return his face to the bolster. ‘Godfrey found it when he was cleaning out the well in the inner keep,’ he said. ‘The opening is halfway down the well. You can’t see the entrance from above, as it’s below a jutting sill.’

  ‘Where does this tunnel lead?’

  ‘It opens out
onto a steep bank. One that slopes down to the marsh. The opening on that side is hidden by gorse.’

  ‘Why did Godfrey tell you about it? Of all people?’

  ‘He had to.’

  I shook him. ‘Why?’

  ‘I’d been with a woman on the banks one afternoon last summer. I was having a sleep after she’d gone, and then Godfrey appeared from the undergrowth. He had no choice but to tell me what he was doing.’

  ‘Did Godfrey tell anybody else about this tunnel?’

  ‘Not that I know of,’ he said. ‘My brother thought it was a risk to the security of the castle. The fewer people who knew about it, the better.’

  ‘Where does Abigail live?’ I asked.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  I caught hold of his neck and pushed his face back into the bolster. ‘Of course you know, Edwin. You’ve just told me that you sent the Dutchman to find this woman. Remember? You must have told him where to go.’

  I pulled his head back after a few moments, allowing him to gasp for breath. He was weakening now. His voice soft and quaking. ‘Yes, yes. All right. You win, de Lacy,’ he said. ‘Godfrey had a small cottage in the woodland to the east of the island. He always told me it was a retreat for silent prayer and reflection, but I guessed this was where he was hiding his wife and child.’

  ‘How do I find this cottage?’

  Edwin coughed. ‘You’re not going out there, are you?’

  ‘Of course I am. I need to find Hans.’

  ‘All right, all right,’ he said. ‘Follow the path across the island until you come to the gallows at a crossroads,’ he said. ‘Turn right here and head for the large wooded glade. The cottage is hidden within the oaks.’

  I threw him against the bed, stalked to the door and turned the key.

  ‘Don’t lock me up again, de Lacy,’ he groaned behind me. ‘Please. I can’t stand it.’

  ‘You’ll get out soon enough,’ I shouted back. ‘If I find that Hans has murdered Abigail and her son, then I’ll take you out into the forest myself. I’ll hang you from the nearest tree.’

  * * *

  Filomena watched me prepare to leave the castle with silent, reproachful eyes. ‘I don’t understand why you’re doing this, Oswald.’

  I pulled the leather tunic over my head and wouldn’t meet her gaze. ‘I have to go,’ I said. ‘I have to stop him.’

  ‘But I won’t feel safe here without you here,’ she said.

  ‘Lyndham is staying in the castle,’ I replied. ‘And Sandro is a capable guard.’

  She folded her arms and turned her back on me. ‘The boy wants to go with you, of course.’

  I dropped my dagger into its sheath. ‘Well, he can’t.’

  She waited a few moments before making her next objection. ‘You know that Godfrey’s wife and son are probably dead already, don’t you? You’ll get to this secret cottage, only to find two corpses.’

  ‘I have to try to save them from Hans at least.’

  ‘But it’s not safe to leave the castle on your own,’ she said. ‘You’ll be at the Dutchman’s mercy.’

  ‘I don’t fear him,’ I said.

  ‘But you should,’ she replied. ‘This man has already killed three people.’

  ‘Which is exactly why I have to hunt him down.’

  I continued to collect my things together into a large scrip, while she stared at me with disdain. I half expected her to refuse to say goodbye or wish me well, for Filomena sometimes had the most stubborn of natures. However, just as I had thrown my cloak over my shoulder she suddenly grasped me, taking my hands in her own.

  ‘Please, Oswald,’ she said. ‘Stay here with your family. Now that we know how Hans is getting into the castle, we can block off this tunnel. Then we can lock ourselves away until spring. There’s no need for you to leave. These murders are nothing to do with us.’

  ‘I have to go,’ I said again, pulling her towards me and kissing the top of her head. ‘Mother was right. I cannot hide away in here any longer, waiting to be preyed upon.’

  Filomena took a sharp intake of breath at the mention of my mother, before she leant back and looked me in the eye. ‘But what about the Plague, Oswald? Think about that.’ I went to speak, but she put a finger to my lips. ‘You insist you’re safe because you’ve suffered before. But how do you know if that is really true? This could be a different sickness.’

  ‘It’s the same disease, Filomena.’

  ‘But what if you’re wrong, Oswald? What happens if you catch Hans, only to catch this plague? Or worse than that, you are safe yourself, but you bring this infection back with you? You might save us from a murderer only to bring death here anyway.’ She shook me again. ‘And plague is the worst killer of them all. You said so yourself enough times.’

  I pulled her back into my arms. ‘I promise you, Filomena. With all my heart. I will return with a murderer and nothing else.’

  She breathed in sharply, and then pushed me away. ‘That’s if you return at all.’

  I descended the winding stairs to the inner keep, hoping to make a quick exit, but Sandro caught up with me as I reached the bottom step. The boy had dressed in his leather tunic and long woollen cloak, and clearly intended to join me on this mission, as there was a sword hanging from his belt.

  ‘You can’t come with me, Sandro,’ I said, blocking his path with my arm. ‘It’s too dangerous.’

  The boy shook his head at this. ‘But you cannot go out there alone, Master Oswald. What if the Dutchman takes you by surprise?’

  ‘I’ll be able to defend myself,’ I said. ‘Hans is just a boy. Not the Queen’s champion.’

  ‘Yes, but he’s cunning and sly,’ said Sandro, his eyes widening at his next description. ‘He may hide himself between the trees and then sneak up on you, like a snake.’

  ‘I’m not scared of Hans,’ I said. ‘And I must go alone.’ When he went to argue, I added, ‘You’re needed here to guard Monna Filomena.’

  ‘Monna Filomena can defend herself,’ he said indignantly. ‘She’s Venetian.’

  ‘Very well then,’ I replied. ‘You must defend Hugh.’ This elicited more of a grudging nod from my valet. ‘And there is something that I need you to do while I’m gone.’ When he sighed at this, I added, ‘It’s important, Sandro. You’re the only person I trust.’

  This compliment was designed to charm him, but he sniffed out its artifice immediately. He regarded me with cynicism, like a child who knows he’s being placated with false praise. ‘Yes, Master Oswald. What is it?’

  ‘I’d like you to find this tunnel that Edwin of Eden described to me. Once you’ve located it, you must tell Sir Robert. It needs to be guarded at all times.’

  ‘Where is it?’ he asked.

  ‘Climb down the well in the inner ward. Apparently the opening is below a jutting sill.’ I paused. ‘The tunnel travels under the castle wall and opens out onto a steep slope on the banks above the marsh.’

  He wrinkled his nose, still not persuaded by the genuine importance of this commission, but at least he had accepted that he could not accompany me on my journey.

  ‘When will you be back, Master Oswald?’ he asked.

  ‘By nightfall.’

  ‘And if you’re not?’

  ‘I will be back by nightfall, Sandro,’ I repeated. ‘So don’t come looking for me.’

  Chapter Twenty-six

  A low sun was crawling along the horizon as I left the castle and made my way towards the main path. The air was fresh, and stung at my skin as I walked purposefully across the grassland in front of the castle – knowing that Filomena and Sandro would be watching my departure from the parapet walk. When I reached the first patch of woodland, I hid behind a tree for a moment to look back. When I could be sure that Filomena and Sandro had deserted their post on the castle wall, I retraced my steps towards the chapel.

  There was no answer when I knocked lightly at the old wooden doors and called out softly for Annora. I crept inside, and at first the
chapel appeared to be empty, so I consoled myself with the thought that the girl had left this place to find another sanctuary – hopefully with a family who were prepared to offer her more care and compassion than I had shown. But then it hit me, wafting through the air in thick, concentrated streaks. I walked further inside the chapel, and it became stronger. Heavy, sweet and foul. The unmistakable scent of death. When I saw the small, lifeless body in the far corner, I went no further, for I knew without doubt that this was Annora’s body. She had wrapped herself in her mother’s long cloak, but her tiny hands were still visible above the cloth – swollen and blackened with plague.

  I ran out, heading for the woodland without caring too much who might see me this time, before I leant against a tree to vomit. It was not only the sight of Annora’s decaying body that sickened me, it was my own part in her tragic story. What had I done to help this girl, other than offer her a cold chapel and a daily crust of stale bread? But, then again, what more could I have done? Had I taken Annora into the castle, then she would have infected us. There was now no doubt about that.

  I had made the right decision, and yet I did not feel vindicated. Instead I felt saddened and angry. Sad that her young life had ended in such a lonely and pitiful way. Angry that plague had turned me into this callous monster. I wiped the vomit from my lips, took a long sip of ale from my flask and then I set off again. There was no time for reproach. I could wallow in such feelings in the months to come – but now I needed to reach Godfrey’s secret cottage. I needed to find Hans.