'I don't know where to start looking,' Emma said dismally. 'Anyway, Odo probably ran away from Wiltune straight after he attacked Anselm.'
'He stayed to identify your brother and raise the hue and cry for Peter,' Janna reminded her. 'Besides, why would he run away and arouse suspicion when he can bear witness to the quarrel with Peter and know that your lover will wear the blame for Anselm's death?'
Emma was silent for a moment as she digested the truth of Janna's words.
'And he probably has a purse full of coins,' Janna added. 'Surely he'd be tempted to stay on to enjoy his ill-gotten gains, for he won't be able to spend them once he returns to your manor.'
Emma nodded, looking slightly more confident. 'We came together, Odo, Anselm and I,' she confided. 'Perhaps he would not leave without me, for that too might look suspicious?'
'Yes, indeed.' Janna thought she should check, just to make sure. 'There was no-one else here from your manor?'
'Only Peter,' said Emma, thoroughly downcast once more. 'Anselm and I wanted to come to the fair. Odo and Peter were both given leave to accompany us, but Peter thought it wise not to be seen by Anselm, so he came on behind us.'
'Let's try the cockfighting pit first then,' Janna suggested. 'If Odo saw your brother winning there, and if there are still fights going on and wagers being made, he might be tempted to try his own luck.'
They turned their steps towards the pit, and the ditch that ran beside it. The fairground was filthy with discarded produce, rotten and trampled underfoot along with all the mundungus of the birds and animals that had been brought and traded and had left their mark. Janna wrinkled her nose at the smell. She lifted the hem of her habit, and trod more carefully through the refuse.
The cockpit was deserted now, nor were there any signs of men wagering over dice or any other means whereby a quick profit might be made. Janna scanned the scene, then walked over to the ditch. Discarded bits of bread, rotting meat, fish bones and other uninviting objects lay half-submerged in the scummy water. She shuddered. 'Where did they find your brother?' she asked.
'Not here. Further along, near those trees.' Emma waved a hand to show where she meant. Janna set off to see for herself. At once Emma followed.
'The trees make a good screen,' Emma said thoughtfully, as she showed Janna the exact spot where she'd found her brother.
'Yes. Odo may have asked your brother to meet him here, for there's no reason for him to be here else. Unless he came over to relieve himself?' Janna had detected the stink of stale urine in the air. This patch of trees had obviously formed a handy spot for fairgoers. As such, Odo might have been taking a bigger risk than he realised if he had made such an arrangement. Someone answering the call of nature might easily have seen them. But it seemed more likely that the attack had come about by chance, an impulse born of propitious circumstances.
She shrugged. It made no matter how or why they'd met but what had happened once they did. She looked at the stained and stagnant water in the ditch and the bloody marks on the ground where Anselm's body must have rested after they lifted him out. Emma had gone pale. Janna hoped the young woman wasn't going to be sick again. She moved away to inspect the ground nearby, drawing Emma away from the stinking ditch as she did so. She could find no other stains, nor any scuff marks to indicate that a body had been dragged from somewhere else.
She straightened. 'Let's see if we can find Odo,' she said, and began to pick her way back through the filthy fairground once more.
'I wish I could be sure Anselm wasn't behind the attack on Hugh,' Emma said worriedly, as she followed Janna towards the centre of the fair.
'I don't think you need to worry about that.' Janna spoke over her shoulder. 'In fact, I believe I was the intended target.'
'But why?'
'It's a long story. But try not to worry about your brother. After all, there was no reason for him to attack the lord Hugh.'
'My brother is usually calm and open to reason, but he was very angry with Hugh when I spoke to him, angry enough, I think, to take action against even a once-beloved brother-in-arms. He talked about how Hugh had dishonoured our friendship and brought shame to our family. I tried to talk some sense into him, but he wouldn't listen to me.'
Emma's confession made Janna feel a little more comfortable about her own safety. 'You said Anselm was watching the cockfighting. Was he winning or losing then, do you think?' she asked.
'Losing, I am sure. He looked quite desperate.'
'Yes, I thought so too, when I saw him. But his luck might have turned later, perhaps only on the last day of the fair?'
'I don't know.' Emma looked wretched. 'After the fight between Anselm and Peter, I wanted no more to do with my brother and so I stayed away from him as much as I could. He was so angry with me – and with Hugh for refusing to marry me.' Emma gave a half-strangled sob. 'My brother died alone like a pig in a ditch, victim of an unknown hand, but after quarrelling with those who loved him best. I'd give anything . . . anything in the world . . . to have him alive again so I could tell him . . .'
Her voice trailed off into silence.
'That you would give up Peter?'
'No!' Emma's voice was low, but fierce. 'There's no need! It was only Anselm's stiff-necked pride that made a problem of my love for Peter.'
Janna nodded in sympathetic agreement. Her steps quickened. Followed by Emma, she hurriedly picked her way across the still busy marketplace, for she'd espied a bush tied to a pole, marking the site of an alehouse, one of several in Wiltune. It stood close beside the shop of Fulk, the apothecary. The fair being over, both were now open for business, but the alehouse was by far the more crowded. She pushed through a group of men who, with full mugs of ale in hand, stood blocking the door.
'We can't go in there!' Emma sounded scandalised.
Janna glanced behind, and gestured impatiently for her to follow. 'If Odo's not in here, I wager we'll find him in one of the other alehouses,' she said, and marched inside.
She wondered if the alewife would recognise her, for she'd been there before, but her habit turned out to be an effective disguise. In fact, the alewife looked even more scandalised than Emma when she noticed a lay sister on her premises.
'You'll be putting my customers off their drink,' she muttered angrily.
'We're looking for someone, mistress,' Janna explained. The alewife flounced off and left them alone. 'If you see Odo, don't let him know your suspicions, don't accuse him of anything,' Janna warned Emma. 'Pretend you're glad to see him. Say you feel faint, and ask him to buy you a mug of ale. See if he takes the money to pay for it from Anselm's purse.'
Emma hesitated, looking nervous. 'Go.' Janna gave her a nudge to get her moving. 'Don't worry, I'll be right here if there's any trouble.' She stayed beside the door, watching carefully as Emma began to circle the crowded room. She was the butt of several ribald comments, for women did not frequent alehouses alone unless there was a purpose for their presence. With head held high, Emma ignored the lewd suggestions, but Janna could see the flush of colour on her cheeks as she tried to avoid a groping hand only to encounter another. Taking pity on her situation, Janna hurried over to join her, for she knew the alewife was right. Her presence would inhibit the drinkers in more ways than one.
'He's not here,' Emma said, once the circle of the room was complete.
'Then we'll try another, and another, until we find him.'
To Janna's surprise, Emma nodded in agreement. She was glad not to have to argue her case, but her spirits sank lower and lower as they visited one alehouse after another without success. Finally, there was only one left for them to try. It was tucked away down a small lane off the marketplace, a rundown establishment frequented by a bunch of rogues and layabouts, judging by the look of the few who were openly relieving themselves at a side fence when Janna and Emma entered the yard.
They averted their faces and pressed on into the crowded alehouse. 'He's here!' Emma hissed out of the side of her mouth.
<
br /> 'Act naturally.' Janna took her arm. 'Say you want to go home, and that I've been helping you look for him. Don't forget to ask him to buy you something to drink.'
Emma sagged slightly, and allowed Janna to support her over to a table frequented by two men who were busy at a game of dice. Judging from the coins on the table, and the raised voices, the loser wasn't happy about the sizeable gains being amassed by the winner. At sight of Emma, the man who was losing sprang up and made a sketchy bow. 'You should not be here, mistress,' he greeted her.
'No, I should not,' Emma said tartly, 'but I have been looking for you, Odo. I wish to go home to . . . to . . .' Her voice faltered.
'To tell your lord what has happened here,' Janna said firmly, and patted Emma's shoulder to comfort her and let her know she was not alone.
'I'll come at once.' The man scowled at his associate, who sat back on his stool with a smug expression and began to count the pile of coins set in front of him.
'I . . . I feel faint. I need to sit down. Maybe a drink of wine or ale will help to revive me?' Emma said quickly.
'This is no place for you, nor for you, Sister.' Odo's mouth turned down in a thin line of disapproval as he looked at Janna. Not giving Emma any chance to argue, he took her arm and led her outside. Janna made haste to follow the pair. She said nothing until they'd left the laneway and were back in the marketplace. As soon as there were people about and it was safe to stop, she called out, 'I beg you, mistress, for the sake of your health, take some refreshment before you set out for home.'
'Oh, yes.' Emma turned, an expression of relief illuminating her face. 'But I'm afraid I spent all of my money at the fair.' She turned to Odo in appeal. 'Do you have a coin to spare for a drink and perhaps a pie from the cookshop?'
'Yes, of course, mistress.' Odo's hand went to his purse. He hesitated. 'I, myself, had a lucky wager on a cockfight,' he mumbled, as he opened it to extract a coin. The purse was new, and made of fine leather. Bought with Anselm's winnings, Janna felt sure of it, just as she felt sure that Anselm's purse was now safely at the bottom of the ditch, or buried in a bush perhaps. How could they trap the rogue into admitting his foul deed when there was no evidence of it save a purchase he might well claim to have bought out of his own coin?
She gazed at the purse, and then at his tunic, noting how clean it was in front compared to his sleeves, which were dirty and travel-stained. Her glance narrowed and focused. A fierce exhilaration pulsed through her body.
'Pray fetch some refreshment for Mistress Emma,' Janna ordered, thinking to set his arrest in train while he was out of hearing.
Odo nodded and set off for the cookshop, moving with alacrity. Janna guessed he was relieved not to be questioned about his newfound wealth. But his turn would come, she promised herself. She looked around the marketplace, searching for any sign of the steward, or one of the abbey guards, anyone who might apprehend the villein on his return. Her spirits lifted when she spied Godric in the distance.
'Godric!' she shouted, waving energetically to attract his attention.
He hurried over. 'My lord Hugh asked me to come looking for you. He's worried about you. And there is news.' He turned to Emma. 'Word has come from the steward that the man who murdered your brother has been arrested, mistress.'
'Odo?' Not understanding, Emma looked about for the villein. He was walking towards them, balancing a pie and a mug of ale and looking very pleased with himself.
'Not Odo. Peter Thatcher.'
'No!' As understanding came, Emma's eyes filled with tears. 'But I told him to hide!' she wailed.
'And it counted against him when he was caught fleeing from here.'
'But he's innocent!'
'If that is so, he will be let free.' But Godric looked less than convinced.
'He is innocent,' Janna affirmed. She felt great sympathy for Emma, and a seething sense of injustice on behalf of the hapless thatcher. 'Where is the steward now?' she questioned Godric.
'At the abbey,' he answered. 'The thatcher has been brought there to await trial at the abbess's court. But his own lord will have to be summoned before the case against the thatcher can be heard.'
'Where are the guards?' Janna looked about for anyone with some authority. 'Have you seen any of them about?'
'I just walked past one of them. He's over there.'
Janna looked where Godric pointed, and felt her spirits lift with relief. 'Ho there!' she called, and beckoned the guard to come to them.
'What has happened? Do you say that the thatcher has been arrested for the murder of your brother, my lady?' There was a definite air of self-satisfaction about Odo as he handed the pie and ale to Emma.
'Yes, Odo, the thatcher has been taken into custody,' Janna answered for Emma. 'But the wrong man stands accused. Hold onto Odo, Godric. Hold him tight!' To her relief, Godric asked no questions but immediately made a grab for the startled villein. He had no chance to defend himself before Janna took a firm grip on his other side, and called out to the guard. 'This is the murderer of the man found in the ditch.'
'We already hold the culprit.' The guard ambled over at a leisurely pace. He made no move to relieve Janna and Godric of their struggling captive.
'This man is guilty – and I can prove it!'
'You are mistaken. Let me go!' Odo strained against their grasp.
'See the blood on his tunic?'
'But I washed –'
'Not carefully enough,' Janna assured him. 'There is a spray of blood spotting his sleeve. Can you see it, guard?'
The guard took a reluctant step closer and bent to inspect the marks. Odo's struggles increased. Fear had given him added strength. Janna wondered how long they'd be able to hold him if the guard didn't come to their aid.
'The steward asked me to identify Anselm. There was so much blood staining his face and clothes, I had to get close to make sure it was really him,' Odo protested.
'That might account for stains on the front of your tunic, although you were quick to wash away signs of your guilt. But how did Anselm's blood spatter onto your sleeve?'
Odo was silent. All his energy was now focused on his frantic struggles to escape. A crowd had gathered around them. There were mutters of sympathy as news of Emma's identity was passed around. Making up his mind, the guard reached out to take Odo into custody. Janna instinctively relaxed.
At once Odo lunged sideways, catching Godric off-balance. He tore himself from Godric's grasp and charged into the crowd like a rampaging bull. But the onlookers had heard enough to know where their sympathies lay, and they closed around him, hemming him in until the guard came close enough to grasp hold of him. A stout rope was hastily fetched from a nearby trader, who was busy packing the remainder of his goods onto a cart.
'Do you believe this man murdered your brother, mistress?' the guard asked Emma, once the villein was safely bound. 'We need proof for this accusation, for I must tell you we already have a number of witnesses to a fist fight between the thatcher and your brother. There's reason enough to suspect that the grievance between them did not end when the fight was broken up.'
'What about the spatters of blood on Odo's sleeve?' Emma asked quickly.
'And his purse is new – and still bulging with coin, even though he's been losing at dice,' Janna added.
'A lucky win at a cockfight,' Odo said. 'I have an answer for all your so-called "proof". More, there was no reason for me to kill a man I look up to, but every reason for the thatcher to kill the man who came between him and his betrothed.' Odo's struggles had ceased in the face of the guard's scepticism. It seemed to Janna that he might now have decided to try and brazen it out. She was equally determined that he would not succeed.
'What knowledge do you have of this matter, Sister?' The guard's tone was respectful, as befitted Janna's habit.
'She solved the crime, and she also helped me find Odo,' Emma said, earning Janna a furious glance from the villein.
The guard nodded thoughtfully. 'Do you know
the accused? Or the man we already have locked away? Can you speak to the good character of either of them, Sister?'
Reluctantly, Janna shook her head.
'I know them, both of them – and I know the thatcher isn't guilty of this crime,' Emma insisted.
'You say that because you are in love with him!' Odo cried. 'But I know your brother opposed the match. I, myself, witnessed their fight over you, as well as the argument you had with your brother.'
'So you were at the cockfights with Anselm?' Janna interposed.
'Yes. I won some money there. I already told you that.' Odo's confidence was increasing by the minute. He turned to the guard, who was looking uncertain. 'Perhaps you should start your enquiries by interrogating Mistress Emma here. She is the dead man's sister, and she also had a reason for wishing him harm.'
'Oh! Oh, you . . .' Emma's hands clenched in impotent rage. 'I'll see you hang for this,' she hissed.
The unhappy guard turned to Godric. 'Do you know this man? Or the dead man, or the man they call Peter Thatcher?' he asked.
'No. But this is the man responsible for the killing, I'd be willing to wager my life on it,' Godric said, loyal to Janna as always.
'Take him to the steward,' Janna suggested. 'Let him tell his story, and see who the steward believes.'
Glad to have a face-saving way out of the bother, the guard nodded and led Odo away.
'You're quite sure of Odo's guilt, are you, Janna?' Godric fell into step beside her as she followed the guard.
'He wears his guilt on his sleeve.' Janna felt a twinge of pity. If found guilty, Odo would be tried and then hanged for his deed, but Anselm's murder might have been just a moment of madness. A chance meeting at the makeshift latrine perhaps, and a boast of a wager that had paid off handsomely. She looked at Emma then, and her pity died. It was true that Anselm's death had opened the door to her future happiness, but Janna was sure that the price paid was far too high. Anselm's unreasonable hopes for his sister surely reflected his love for her. Sooner or later he would have come to realise that he could not rely on Hugh to make her happy, and would have accepted Peter into the family.
Lilies for Love Page 17
