The Owls of Gloucester (Domesday Series Book 10)

by Edward Marston

  ‘To our cost!’

  ‘Idwal is a remarkable man.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Ralph. ‘Remarkably unlovable. If ever there was a worthy candidate for the assassin's dagger, it is Idwal of St David's!’ He turned on his heel and marched away. ‘Be quick about it, Gervase!’

  ‘Is that where the lord Ralph's prejudice against the Welsh comes from?’ asked Abraham. ‘An unfortunate encounter with Idwal?’

  ‘Two unfortunate encounters.’

  ‘I have always found him so friendly.’

  ‘Leave him aside,’ said Gervase. ‘This matter must be resolved. As for the lord Ralph's attitude towards the Welsh, I have to point out that it has hardly been softened by the news you bring us of a Welsh plot against the King.’

  ‘It does not really deserve the name of a plot, Master Bret.’

  ‘Then what is it?’

  ‘A wild notion of hot-headed patriots.’

  ‘Patriots? So more than one person is involved?’

  ‘Yes and no.’

  ‘How many others?’

  ‘That is irrelevant.’

  ‘Not to me, Archdeacon. I'm glad you didn't mention this to the lord Ralph or he would certainly have taken you with him to the castle. And not with overmuch ceremony, I fear. Tell me all,’ he urged, ‘for I can see that you are no assassin. You're a devout Christian who abhors murder as the evil it is. That is why you rebelled against the idea. But you could only rebel against something you knew about and that makes you an accessory of sorts.’ He watched the Welshman carefully. ‘You told one or more friends about the King's visit here. Were you asked to provide any additional information to them?’

  Abraham lowered his head. ‘Yes, Master Bret.’

  ‘But your conscience refused to let you do it. I see how it was. You unwittingly provided the spark which lit a fire and it flared up out of your control. But you refuse to gather more fuel for that fire. Is that it?’

  ‘You are very perceptive.’

  ‘May I counsel you, Archdeacon?’

  ‘Please do.’

  ‘The lord Ralph is right. It must be stopped at source and you are in the ideal position to do that. Go to this friend or friends. Be completely open. Admit that you have alerted the castle to the danger. And impress upon this lone assassin,’ said Gervase with emphasis, ‘that a garrison of armed soldiers is now lying in wait for him. Force him to abandon what is a futile bid. That way, you will save his life for he will surely sacrifice it if he tries to get near the King. Do you agree?’

  ‘I'll leave Gloucester immediately.’

  ‘In which direction?’

  Abraham was enigmatic. ‘That is for me to know. You and the lord Ralph are on one mission of mercy. I depart on another.’

  Golde could not decide why she disliked her so much. The lady Emma was a lively and intelligent woman, unfailingly courteous to her hostess at the castle and unceasingly polite to Golde herself. There was no hint of condescension in the visitor's manner. She was relaxed and friendly.

  ‘I should not have called upon you at such a time,’ she apologised. ‘Had I know whom you were entertaining, my lady, I would not have dreamed of trespassing upon you.’

  ‘Nonsense!’ said Maud. ‘You are doubly welcome. It is true that the King's visit has placed an extra burden on us but it does not really fall on me. How could it when I am scarcely allowed near him? Durand excludes me completely from matters of state.’

  ‘Is that why King William is here?’

  ‘So I understand.’

  ‘Has your husband given you no clearer indication?’

  ‘None,’ said Maud sourly. ‘Since the visitors arrived last night, I have hardly seen my husband. He expects me to know my place. At the altar I swore to obey him, and that is what I will always do, but I will not pretend that I enjoy being kept on the outer fringes of his world. Is it so with the lord Hamelin?’

  ‘Far from it, my lady. He discusses everything with me.’

  ‘It is the same with Golde and the lord Ralph,’ said Maud, trying to bring her other guest into the conversation. ‘They do not keep secrets from each other. Well, most of the time, that is.’

  Golde was reluctant to be drawn into a defence of Ralph at a point when she was feeling a distant sense of betrayal. When she studied the lady Emma's lovely features and gorgeous attire, she was honest enough to admit to herself that she was faintly jealous of her, but that was not the only reason why she wished to detach herself. Evidently, the others were well acquainted with each other, having a fund of news to exchange and endless reminiscences to share. Golde was in the way. When she made her excuse and quit the room, she knew that they would have a much more enjoyable time without her.

  Desiring some fresh air, she elected to go for a walk around the perimeter of the bailey so that she could reflect on the true cause of her resentment of the lady Emma. No sooner had she descended the steps from the keep, however, than she saw Ralph hurrying towards her.

  ‘Ah, there you are, my love!’ he said, arriving to give her a peck on the cheek. ‘I was looking for you.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘To explain why I had to hop out of your bed with such indecent haste this morning. Hubert brought worrying news from the abbey. One of the novices has been abducted.’

  ‘Oh,’ she replied. ‘It grieves me to hear that. I can see that Canon Hubert would be upset about it, but why did he need to involve you and Gervase? Surely, this is a problem for the abbey.’

  ‘It spills out far beyond that, Golde. I have no time to recount all the details. Suffice it to say that the abduction is linked to the murder. The man who seized that boy last night is, in all probability, the same person who killed Brother Nicholas. We have picked up his trial. I had to come back here on other business,’ he said, ‘so I thought I would tell you what is going on. Gervase and I may be away for some time.’

  ‘What of your duties in the shire hall?’

  ‘They must wait.’

  ‘I see,’ said Golde levelly, noting his eagerness to get away. ‘In that case, I'll not hold you up. Thank you for warning me. I appreciate it.’

  He peered at her. ‘What is wrong?’

  ‘Nothing, Ralph.’

  ‘Then why this strange coldness?’

  ‘Am I being cold?’ she said, contriving a warm smile. ‘I am sorry. It was not intentional. Be on your way. Gervase will be waiting.’

  ‘Then he can wait,’ said Ralph, taking a step towards her. ‘You're upset with me again, Golde. I can tell. Are you still harbouring a grudge because I forgot to mention the King's arrival?’

  ‘You didn't forget, Ralph. You chose not to remember.’

  ‘It amounts to the same thing.’

  ‘No, it doesn't. Deliberation was involved.’

  ‘Ah, so that's my crime. Deliberate deception.’

  ‘This has nothing to do with the King's visit,’ she said. ‘Well, only indirectly. But my concerns are paltry beside yours. A boy's life is in danger. Go in search of him at once.’

  ‘Not until you tell me why you are so fretful.’

  ‘Fretful?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘You accuse me of holding things back from you but now you are the one guilty of deception. What is going on?’

  ‘The lady Maud has a visitor.’

  ‘Is that what has put your nose out of joint?’

  ‘Lady Emma. The wife of Hamelin of Lisieux.’ She watched his reaction. ‘Yes, Ralph. You met her at the shire hall. She told me how much you impressed her. The lady Emma was sure that you would have mentioned her name to me.’

  He winced. ‘But I didn't.’

  ‘May I know the reason?’

  ‘Because she was not germane to our inquiry,’ he argued weakly. ‘The lord Hamelin brought her along to support him and distract us. Naturally, we spotted his device at once. To a man, we ignored the lady Emma completely.’

  ‘Ralph!’ she said with amused cynicism. ‘I might accept that Canon Hubert ignored he
r and I'm sure that Brother Simon hid under the table, but you could never ignore a woman as beautiful as that. Undyingly faithful as he is to Alys, I daresay that even Gervase raised an eyebrow.’

  The sheepish grin. ‘The lady Emma does seize the attention.’

  ‘Why not admit that at the start? I'm not complaining out of envy, though any woman would suffer that when confronted with her. Once again, you put me in an invidious position. The lady Emma told me something I should first have heard from you.’

  ‘I accept that.’

  ‘How many more times will this happen?’

  ‘Never, my love.’

  ‘You said that when we fell out earlier. Then this second lapse occurs. It made me feel so foolish. That's why I could not stay in the lady Maud's apartment with them,’ she said. ‘The lady Emma was asking about the King's reason for being here and the lady Maud was lamenting the fact that she had no idea what it was. When it became a discussion of what husbands tell their wives, I had to get out of there.’

  ‘I can understand that.’

  ‘If you had had the sense to tell me about your meeting with the lady Emma, none of this would have happened.’

  ‘Exactly. I am duly shamed, Golde, and just wish we did not have to have this dispute at the one time when it cannot properly be resolved. But, as you see, I really have to go. However, with regard to the lady Emma, I will say one thing.’

  ‘What's that?’

  ‘No man could lead her astray. She dotes on her husband.’

  ‘Is that so?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said with a grin. ‘Almost as much as I dote on my wife.’

  It was Golde who kissed him this time.

  Having parted on more amicable terms, Ralph hurried back to the gatehouse. Gervase was waiting for him but so, he now saw, was Nigel the Reeve. The two were engaged in a mild argument. Ralph swept up to bring it to a summary conclusion.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ he demanded of the reeve.

  ‘Hoping to see you, my lord.’

  ‘I cannot stay to be seen. Urgent business calls.’

  ‘That is exactly what I was discussing with Master Bret,’ said the other. ‘This urgent business. I know what it is but, at your direction, I have not mentioned it to the four claimants in the dispute which you have been trying to resolve. But they are hounding me, my lord. They demand to know why there's been a delay and how long it will last.’

  ‘We do not know how long.’

  ‘Can I at least explain the reason for your decision?’

  ‘I am sure you've already done so to one of them,’ said Ralph, eyeing him darkly. ‘The well-informed Hamelin of Lisieux gets to hear everything from his lackey. As for the others, they could not all have been barking at your heels. We have just spoken to Abraham the Priest and he didn't even raise the subject of the shire hall.’

  ‘He is not the problem, my lord,’ admitted Nigel. ‘Strang the Dane is the worst offender here. He and his creeping reeve have been trailing me relentlessly. They have commitments out of the city and cannot stay long. Yet they fear to go lest you sit in session during their absence and omit them from your considerations.’ He sounded reasonable for once. ‘Querengar has shown restraint but even he is pressing me. It's only fair to tell them something.’

  ‘I agree,’ said Gervase. ‘Since the lord Hamelin knows, why conceal it from the others? They must recognise the seriousness of the crime.’

  Mulling it over, Ralph put his foot in the stirrup of his horse and hauled himself into the saddle. He kept Nigel the Reeve waiting for his decision. When it came, it was abrupt.

  ‘Tell them,’ he said at length. ‘Warn them that it might be days before we are able to reconvene. Tell them all. Beginning, of course, with the lord Hamelin or he will be vexed with you.’

  Anxiety continued to peck away hard at Abraham the Priest. It was no consolation to him that he had done what he believed was the right thing. In obeying the impulse to reveal the existence of an assassination plot, he had salved his conscience to some degree, but left it vulnerable to further attack. Riding alone out of the city, he wondered if he should have invited Tomos to go with him so that he could take soundings from his companion. On reflection, he was grateful that he had not, convinced that the young monk might not approve of his actions and not wanting to forfeit the unquestioning faith which the latter placed in him. There was also another side to his gratitude. In leaving Tomos in ignorance, he was sparing him any unpleasant repercussions. Abraham had to confront Madog and his men on his own and take all their anger upon him.

  Brad. It was a short word in Welsh but it had a long meaning for the archdeacon. Treason. Betrayal. Reneging on a bargain. Violating a trust. Turning away from his country. Committing a shameful act. Disloyalty. Treachery. Was that really a fair description of his behaviour? He had betrayed his friends, it was true, but only because they were bent on a course of action he could never support. It was they who planned to commit treason, and only his treachery could stop them. And was it really treachery to deflect Madog and the others from a course of action which was almost certainly suicidal? Nothing could be achieved by the pointless waste of lives on an ill-conceived venture.

  Abraham told himself that he had not betrayed his country. Having proudly assisted at the birth of a baby boy, he had now helped to keep several adults in the breathing world. That was an achievement which was worth the obloquy he would earn. In time, the child would grow up to hear how the Archdeacon of Gwent himself had delivered him into his Welsh heritage. Abraham could only hope that Madog and his men would, in time, weigh commonsense against disappointment and realise that the archdeacon had been their salvation. Such a resolution was a long way off, he knew that. There would be much pain and recrimination before then, much abuse to withstand.

  It could be lessened. If he told them a lie, Abraham could deflect the blame from himself and let them expend their rage impotently on the King himself. He could tell them that William had left Gloucester for an unknown destination. None the wiser, Madog would lead his men back home to Wales. It was an attractive idea but it was almost instantly dismissed. His friends might not know the truth but he would and it could not be held back from them. Besides, he was their spiritual leader. They looked to him as a Christian exemplar. He had acted in the way that God would want him to act. There was no need to apologise to them or even to justify his actions. God had spoken through him.

  Buoyed up by that thought, he nudged his horse into a canter until the copse at last came in view. It was an ideal refuge, large enough to conceal them yet too small and isolated to be part of the forest and thus subject to the savagery of forest law. No verderers and foresters would patrol this outcrop of trees. They were safe from scrutiny and could plot a hundred assassinations beneath the green leaves without being disturbed. But the archdeacon would disturb them now. Instead of bringing them the information they demanded, he would be announcing the demise of their plan.

  When he reached the copse, he slowed his horse to a trot and picked his way through the trees, gritting his teeth and trying to shake off vestigial doubts. These were his friends and countrymen. He had no cause to be afraid of them. Abraham came into the clearing with a welcome on his lips but it was stillborn. Madog and his men were not there and there was no sign that they ever had been. The words which he had been turning over in his mind remained unspoken. He had no idea where they could be. The Archdeacon of Gwent was all too aware of the implications. They were acting on their own now.

  Whatever they decided, he was utterly powerless to stop them.

  Ralph Delchard checked first with his men to see if their search had turned up anything of interest but there was nothing to report. When he and Gervase Bret rode to each of the city gates, they met with the same response. Nothing suspicious had been seen. No boy had been taken out through them since they had opened that morning. Recalling what Abraham had told them, the two friends turned their attention to the quayside, wondering if the river mi
ght be used as a means of spiriting Owen away. Once again, they were out of luck. Few craft had sailed downriver and none had been seen with a boy aboard who answered to the description of Owen. Ralph turned back to regard the city.

  ‘He's still here, Gervase.’

  ‘The archdeacon doubted that.’

  ‘What does he know of a manhunt? Instinct is the crucial thing and mine tells me that the lad is hidden away somewhere. If we had more men, we could turn Gloucester inside out until we found him.’

  ‘The sheriff has men enough.’

  ‘Can you imagine him handing them over to us?’

  ‘No, Ralph,’ said the other. ‘And they are needed at the castle. Now that you have passed on the word about a possible attempt on the King's life, the whole garrison is on its toes. Durand does not strike me as the kind of man who would be moved by the plight of a novice. Protecting a King will seem far more vital to him than hunting for a boy who was foolish enough to wander around the abbey at night.’

  ‘That has been worrying me.’

  ‘What has?’

  ‘The sheer coincidence of it. Owen leaves the dormitory and someone just happens to be lurking in readiness for him. Why? It does not make sense.’

  ‘It does to anyone who has been in an abbey. Young boys are playful. It is only natural. Until they reach maturer years, there will always be one or two who risk a beating to slip out at night. Look at Kenelm and Elaf. They had many midnight escapades.’

  ‘I do not follow your argument.’

  ‘The man who lay in ambush was not waiting specifically for Owen. He may have had no idea who would appear. What he was counting on was that, sooner or later, some wilful novice would be out on the prowl. Brother Nicholas would probably have told him that.’

  ‘I am still not convinced.’

  ‘Then you have to side with the sheriff.’

  ‘God forbid!’

  ‘He still believes the killer lives in the abbey itself. An insider who knows where to skulk in order to wait for his prey to emerge from the novices' dormitory. If he was Brother Nicholas's accomplice, he would know how devoted Owen had been to the dead man. Devoted enough to pay a secret visit to his grave.’