‘I’m sure it does,’ I commiserated sincerely. ‘Even so, it must be difficult. The pair of you being so…close.’
I was thinking of the night some years previously when I’d witnessed Mother Han and the then abbey gaoler - her “husband” - engaged in energetic and noisy coition outside the cell in which I had been unjustly incarcerated. No two people could have been closer, or an exhibition less edifying.
‘When I say he’s “dead”,’ she said wiping her sleeve on her skirt, ‘he was put to swabbing the abbey latrines where no lady may venture.’
‘Mother Han!’ I growled.
‘Well, he might as well be dead for all the use he was to me. I lost my income when he went,’ she said scratching herself. ‘What would you have me do, starve?’
I pursed my lips. ‘One day your blasphemies will catch you out. Heaven’s gate will tremble before your litany of deceits.’
‘Oh, Saint Peter won’t keep me out. He’ll have to let me in if only for the sake of those queuing behind.’ She cackled heartily at her own joke.
I sighed with despair. ‘And what did Brother Ambrose mean when he called you a medicine woman? Since when did you know anything of the physician’s art? I warn you,’ I wagged a stern finger. ‘If I find you’ve been curing illegally…’
‘I - er - oooh!’ She suddenly went cross-eyed and grabbed my arm.
‘That won’t work with me,’ I said shaking my head. ‘I won’t be deterred. I know your tricks.’
‘No trick, brother. I…oh-ahhh!’ She held her chest, blew out her cheeks and her face was turning pale.
‘What is it?’ I said suddenly concerned. ‘What is happening? Are you flushing? What do you need?’
‘I need…’ she gasped holding my arm.
‘Yes?’ I urged.
‘I need…’
‘I’m listening. You need…?’
‘…a shit.’
I drew back. ‘What?’
She gave me a doleful look. ‘Two days, brother. It’s too long at my age.’ She pulled on my arm as she struggled to rise. ‘You’ll have to help me. I can’t get up by myself.’ I hesitated but she looked in earnest. ‘Unless you want the mess here on the altar steps.’
The thought was appalling. We headed out as fast as we could through the south transept, Mother Han hobbling painfully on my arm and holding the back of her skirts. We managed to get as far as the Great Cemetery a few yards outside the transept door before she dived behind a bush while I stood guard listening to the unearthly noises coming from within. Not that she needed me to safeguard her dignity. The smell alone was enough to deter the most curious passer-by.
‘Oh, that’s better,’ she said emerging after a few minutes and adjusting her clothing. She jabbed a filthy thumb over her shoulder and sneered. ‘I wouldn’t go in there for a while if I were you. Give the vapours a chance to circulate.’
‘Mother Han, I have no intention of going anywhere near that bush before the Second Coming.’
She squinted sideways at me. ‘Snooty as ever, I see. Well, I’ll be off.’
She started to pull away from me, but I held on firmly to her arm and pulled her back.
‘Not so fast. I want to know why you are masquerading as a medic.’
‘Oh that.’ She flapped a hand in the air.
‘Yes that,’ I said sternly. ‘Do you realise I could have you whipped for personation? Ten years it took me to learn my skills in some of the finest and most expensive medical schools in Europe. It’s not something you can pick up as the fancy takes you.’
She guffawed. ‘I seen what you physicians do; t’aint nothing special. Oh, you use a few more expensive herbs and fancy potions than me mebbe, but it’s much the same thing. Anyway, it’s mostly water I give ’em with a bit of mint and arrowroot mixed in. There’s no harm in it.’
‘Sheer quackery! You’re taking money from the gullible and the desperate under false pretences.’
‘Works though. And I bet I’ve killed fewer with my potions that than you have with yours.’
‘Well that’s just plain nonsense!’ I blustered. ‘You’ve no qualification, no licence, no accreditation. People like you are a scourge to the profession.’
She stuck out her chin towards me. ‘I give comfort to them as can’t afford your prices. Without me they’d have no minist’ring at all. Some even live to thank me.’
‘More by luck than judgement.’
‘At least I don’t bleed the poor beggars to death. Or make them vomit their arseholes up.’
Now she had gone too far. ‘Bloodletting - or phlebotomy to give it its scientific name - is an ancient and well-respected art that goes back to Aristotle. And voiding purifies the stomach and cleanses the soul.’
‘Prrf! Tell that to the stiffs in the graveyard.’
‘Oh, I’ve had enough of this,’ I fumed. ‘I ought to report you to the church authorities. In fact, I will report you - right now,’ and I started to march off.
‘Go ahead,’ she called after me. ‘Shan’t bother telling you what I know in that case.’
I stopped and came back slowly. ‘Tell me what?’
She grinned revealing her three remaining teeth. ‘By the way,’ she sniffed, ‘speaking of maledictions of the body, how’s that boy with the crippled hand?’
‘You mean Onethumb?’
‘I know what his name is,’ she said indignantly. ‘Wasn’t it me who gave it him? I named all my chicks.’
‘Your chicks!’ I snorted. But then I remembered she’d known Onethumb even longer than I had. In fact, the reason she was known as Mother Han was because she looked after the waifs and strays who lived wild on the streets of Bury, as Onethumb himself had once done.
She looked at me slyly. ‘He’s got himself a pretty wife - ooh, she’s a pretty one.’
‘Rosabel?’ I said suspiciously. ‘What do you know of her?’
Mother Han smiled. ‘Looking buxom. Bit too big in the tit, though. I’d say she’s weaned recently. Plenty of milk in her still for her chick - or somebody else’s.’
‘Mother Han,’ I said suspiciously. ‘If you know something you’re not telling me, it could mean a man’s life. It could mean Rosabel’s life.’
‘Oh yes,’ she snarled. ‘It’s different when it’s someone else’s life. My life counts for nothing.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. Your life isn’t in danger.’
‘Huh! Another day kneeling in front of that box of bones and I’d’ve been worm casts for sure.’
‘Well you’re not in front of the shrine now. Saint Edmund has released you for a purpose. So tell me what you know.’
She gurneyed at me. ‘I saw her,’ she said.
‘Rosabel? When?’
‘Two nights back. As a matter of fact, she stayed with me.’
My jaw dropped. ‘What? You’re saying Rosabel was staying with you? Rosabel? Stayed? With you?’
Her eyes narrowed. ‘Hard to credit isn’t it? A family like that seeking sanctuary in my hovel.’
My jaw dropped even further. ‘You’re saying the entire family stayed with you?’
‘Of course, the whole family. You think you’re the only one who knows anything?’
So that’s where they’d been. Yes, it made sense. Rosabel would have known Mother Han through Onethumb. They would have had to leave the palace lodge in a hurry when the king arrived. It explained how they managed to disappear so suddenly and so totally. What better place to vanish than into Mother Han’s world, a world with its own rules and codes of conduct? I had never been to Mother Han’s lodging or even knew where it was, but I had no doubt it was in a part of the town where even de Saye’s men would not willingly venture. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
I looked at her sternly. ‘Where are they, Mother Han?’
She shrugged. ‘Search me. They stayed one night and were taken next morning.’
‘Taken? What do you mean “taken”? Taken by who?’
‘By your old fri
end, Geoffrey de Saye,’ she sniffed.
I reeled. ‘Dear God woman, are you mad? Didn’t you even try to stop them?’
She shrugged. ‘I’m just a weak old medicine woman. Besides, they seemed happy enough to go.’
I was speechless. ‘Don’t you realise, Geoffrey de Saye is the boy’s mortal enemy? Now he has them all – Raoul, Adelle, baby Alix and Rosabel too. Dear God in heaven, does Onethumb know about this? Pray God he doesn’t for I’m sure he’ll try to release them.’
‘Like I say,’ she said nonchalantly, ‘they went willingly enough.’ She squinted up at the sky. ‘And so must I before it rains. I give you good night, brother.’ She pulled her shawl up over her shoulders.
‘Just a minute,’ I called after her. ‘Which way did they go? Did you see?’
‘No idea.’
‘Wait!’ I called. ‘Don’t you want this?’
She stopped and squinted back at me. I held out the penny she’d stolen from the abbey between my forefinger and thumb. Slowly she came back and snatched the silvery disc from my hand.
Squinting closely at it, she sneered. ‘Generous to a fault.’
‘You’re not lying to me, Mother Han, are you?’ I said seriously.
‘Why would I lie? I didn’t have to tell you anything. I did it for them - not you.’
She pocketed the penny and turned to leave hitching up her rags as she went.
‘You tell that boy I was asking after him,’ she called over her shoulder. ‘I did well by him, didn’t I? Oh yes, I did well.’
A moment later she was out through Anselm’s gate and gone from view.
Chapter 21
TRAGEDIES AND CLUES
With the king finally gone there was an added urgency to my quest to find the de Grays. Having failed to get the answer he wanted over the election of the new abbot King John had set off in a pique for Royston Priory just south of Cambridge where another meeting was to be held to try to resolve the matter well away from us monks. And that is where Hugh went scurrying after him. Thus in the course of a single morning we were back to where we’d been before the king’s visit although it would take us a while longer to get over the trauma.
My chief concern now was Geoffrey de Saye. It was surely only a matter of time before he had me arrested. His guards who had been quietly withdrawn when the king arrived were once again being seen everywhere though happily not yet within the walls of the abbey itself. But soon de Saye would have the town closed down completely and with it any chance of finding the family.
But at least now I had some kind of lead although not quite the one I would have liked. Willingly, Mother Han said; Rosabel and the others had gone willingly. But how could that be if it was Geoffrey de Saye who had taken them? On past performance Raoul would surely have put up a struggle. Oh, but this is Geoffrey de Saye we are speaking of. He would find ways to coerce them, no doubt, perhaps by threatening the Lady Adelle - or even baby Alix, I wouldn’t put anything past him. Two nights ago they had stayed at Mother Han’s. Two nights. They could be half way to the north Norfolk coast by now.
And Onethumb was causing me further concern. If he had heard about the family’s abduction - and he was much closer to Mother Han than I was - it would be just like him to try to find them on his own. I had to try to prevent him from doing anything stupid. But he had disappeared too.
I tried Joseph’s shop first in the vain hope he might have returned to work. As I feared, there was no sign of him nor had there been since he stormed out. I did, however, find Joseph at Onethumb’s desk in the workroom at the back of the shop - unusually for him.
‘Would I be doing this if he was here?’ he replied tetchily as he ground some paste in a pestle and mortar. ‘No, I have not seen Onethumb today and it is very inconvenient. As you can see, I have much work to do and am in need of his assistance. I cannot be in the shop and out here at the same time.’
‘Didn’t you think to look for him?’
‘I’m his employer not his guardian.’
I was exasperated. ‘Joseph, how can you be so callous? You know what’s been happening. He is desperately worried for Rosabel’s safety. If he’s gone looking for her I fear he may be overwhelmed. For all we know de Saye’s men may have him already.’
‘He’s a capable young man,’ said Joseph. ‘Perhaps I have more confidence in his abilities than you do - though less in his time-keeping.’
‘I have no confidence at all where Geoffrey de Saye is concerned.’
‘It’s only been three days. Once he’s over his sulk he’ll be back.’
‘And if his body turns up tomorrow in a ditch with his throat cut?’
‘Then you will have been proved right - and I will be in need of a new assistant.’
Joseph was impossible to deal with when he was in this mood. I left him to his grumbling and went on to Onethumb’s home. But Rosabel’s parents were as unconcerned as Joseph had been. Little Hal didn’t seem to be missing his father or his mother - on the contrary, he seemed quite happy to be with his doting grandparents. Once again I left empty-handed.
On my way back to the abbey I took a detour through the marketplace to see if any of the street urchins had heard anything – after all, Onethumb had once been one of them, albeit many years ago. These were the little hedgehogs that Mother Han called her “waifs and strays” whose welfare she took upon herself to look after. It was something I had always grudgingly admired about the woman and which never quite seemed to fit with what I knew of the rest of her nefarious activities – and yet somehow it did. Certainly Onethumb never showed anything but affection for the old rogue whenever her name was mentioned. I suppose to him and countless others like him she was the nearest thing to a mother they had ever known.
I knew I’d find some of the street orphans in the marketplace. There was never any shortage of the bedraggled scamps scurrying about the detritus of trade like rats in a grain store picking up anything others did not want – and sometimes what they did want. Sure enough, I found a troupe of them idly torturing a cockerel in an alley behind the fish market. They had the wretched creature buried up to its neck in the ground so it had no chance whatever to escape or avoid injury and death. I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised by their wanton cruelty since they had never been taught anything better; certainly never had the benefit of a Christian upbringing – or any kind of upbringing.
‘Onethumb?’ said the oldest boy casually tossing another flint at the creature’s bloodied head. ‘That’s a stupid name. Never heard of him.’
He aimed another missile and this time calmly exploded one of its eyes - to the whoops of his companions.
I cringed in revulsion. ‘I just need to speak to him. I can pay.’
I took out a silver penny and held it up to tempt them. But the boy merely put his hand inside his shirt and took out a much bigger handful of coins. Things had changed since the last time I had dealings with them. I couldn’t hope to compete with such a bounty. The boy picked up another stone and threw it with particular malice at the animal’s head. The stone hit its mark with such a crack that must have half-killed the creature because this time it did not crow but shuddered unnaturally.
It was more than I could bear. Stepping forward, I dug the animal out of its tomb with my bare hands. Unfortunately the miserable creature’s injuries were already too far gone and the kindest thing to do was to wring its neck and end its suffering.
‘’Ere!’ said the boy making a grab at corpse. ‘That’s mine!’
‘Don’t test me, boy,’ I growled at him. ‘You can have the carcass but the game is ended.’ I held the mangled corpse out for him to take, its silent head swinging limply from my hand.
‘What gives you the right?’ said the boy angrily.
‘It’s an animal, a living thing – or it was,’ I said glancing down at the bloodied corpse. ‘All such creatures are God’s property, not yours. And I’ll thank you to show a little more respect. Do you know who I am?’
Whether or not he knew he didn’t seem to care. Encouraged by his bravado, the rest of his troupe were now pressing forward. I clearly wasn’t going to get much information out of them now. Indeed, I would be lucky to escape some injury of my own judging from their posturing. Despite their belligerence they were only children. Alone, none of them would put up much of a battle but together they might be a problem. I had to admit to felling a little uneasy. We each stood our ground glowering at each other neither really willing to make a move.
But then from among them emerged the littlest of them all: A girl judging by her clothing who slowly and deliberately walked into the space between us. Smiling sweetly up at me, she took the dead cockerel from me and handed it to the boy. Then she slipped her tiny hand in mine and started to lead me away. Behind us I heard the boy throw the dead carcass and it landed a few feet ahead of us.
‘He can have it, silly old fart!’ said the boy loudly. ‘Probably the only cock he’s got anyway!’
For the next half hour the girl led me through a Bury I hardly knew existed. We slithered through passages – I could hardly call them streets – between rows of dwellings that looked as though the merest sneeze would topple them. The deeper we ventured the more apprehensive I grew although my little guide never altered her pace, never spoke and never let go of my hand. Eventually when I thought there couldn’t be any town left to traverse we came to the bank that marked the edge of the town high upon which stood Abbot Anselm’s wall and alongside it the gulley known as the hounds-ditch. This I knew was the town’s sewer at the very edge of the vill and into it went every article of foul-smelling refuse including many dead dogs – hence its name.
The little girl led me towards it hopping and jumping over things I did not dare put a name to while a cold wind blew down from the north and several times I nearly slipped on the icy puddles fearing for my limbs. I pulled my robes around me as I caught the eye of one old tramp who grinned back at me as though he was possessed of a devil. I shivered, made a hasty sign of the cross and hurried on.
Finally we came to a patch of ground not much bigger than my cell at the abbey upon which was strewn a slough of black bile that looked as though it had issued from the very mouth of Hell. I thought at first it was just another pile of discarded detritus and muck and was about to hop over it when my little guide stopped and pointed.
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