The Alchemist of Netley Abbey: Eighth in the Hildegard of Meaux medieval mystery series

by Cassandra Clark

  Save for Delith herself it was empty. She wasn’t sleeping. Instead she was rummaging through her bag, tossing clothing onto the floor then replacing one or two things, until she heard someone behind her. She turned.

  ‘Oh, it’s you, lady. Are you looking for someone?’ Her tone was belligerent and without any sign of deference.

  Hildegard went up to her. ‘In fact, I was looking for you.’

  ‘Now you’ve found me. Fortune shines on you. The pilgrim ship is leaving soon. I’m joining it and just repacking my belongings to take down there as that useless maid of mine has failed in her duty.’

  ‘Would you like her to come and help you?’

  Hildegard’s glance had alighted on a small object wrapped in one of the veils she often wore. Delith reached for it and was about to put it in the bag. Then for some reason she changed her mind and with a sly smile placed it on the bed. She shook out a blue gown then refolded it. It was not in the sort of condition anyone would want to take on pilgrimage, despite its colour, as it was torn and crumpled. Hildegard was surprised that someone with as much love for clothes as Delith would bother with it.

  ‘What? This?’ She had caught sight of Hildegard’s expression. Pushing a lock of black hair from her face she smiled. ‘I’ll let Lucie have it. She should be grateful. She can always mend it if a little tear offends her.’

  She threw it to one side. Rummaging around she came up with another one. ‘She can have this too. I don’t want it. Cheap, nasty stuff.’ A garment of a different hue was thrown aside as well.‘My lady, happy though I am to have you watch me prepare to leave, did you have any reason for searching me out?’

  ‘Yes, it’s this. On the night of – ’But she got no further. A tremendous shout followed by screams rose up from outside and then they heard a crowd clamouring like people under attack.

  Believing it was something to do with the armed gang employed to protect the abbey Hildegard ran to the window. Delith followed. They both peered down. It was difficult to make out what was going on.

  ‘I’m going down!’ Hildegard ran to the door expecting Delith to follow but when she looked back she was simply standing staring down as if too shocked to move.

  Without wasting time Hildegard ran for the stairs and descended at a rapid clip. She reached the outer door just as a crowd came swarming round something being carried into the garth.

  It was set down on the baked earth but too many people were clustering round for her to see what it was.

  Spotting Hywel in the crowd she wove round the onlookers towards him. ‘I thought the abbey was being attacked. What is it?’

  ‘It’s the body. They’ve managed to get him out at last.’ He crossed himself.

  ‘Do they know who it is?’

  ‘He’s in a horrible state.’

  ‘Yes, but – ’

  ‘It’s that fellow who arrived on the night of the storm. The one in the yellow cotte.’

  ‘Oh.’ She stared as everything shifted into place.

  When he muttered, ‘They’re blaming the mercenaries. That captain was heard having words over a dice game and they think it’s him. A group have gone to look for him to call him to account.’

  ‘Oh no! They have the wrong man! Where are they now?’

  ‘Up near the corner where they used to dice.’

  When Hildegard raised her head she saw a group of lay-brothers approaching the corner. They were disappointed to find no sign of any of the mercenaries and instead came running back towards the group guarding the body. ‘Anyone seen them today?’

  ‘Not since that wagon rolled in.’

  ‘They’ll be in the sacristy getting the cargo out to take back to Arundel,’ someone suggested.

  Murmurs of agreement gave them the authority to march across the garth with a small army of followers.

  Hildegard watched them go then went over to the crowd hanging round the body.

  ‘Lionel, he was called Lionel,’ she said as she looked down at him.

  But for the yellow cotte, now soaked and discoloured by its hours in the culvert, it would have been difficult to recognize him as the fellow who had walked into the abbey that night of the fire. His face was swollen with water and the rigor still held him. His whole body was clenched and it was no wonder it had been difficult to prise him from his death trap.

  Hywel stood beside her and whispered, ‘Let’s take a look before anyone else gets here.’ He crouched down beside the body. The man was lying on his side and Hywel ran his hand over his head. ‘Ah, feel here, feel the back of his head.’

  ‘What is it?’

  He guided her hand and she felt a lump beneath her fingers. ‘A blow to the head?’

  ‘A cudgel? A stone?’

  ‘Or was it sustained in his fall?’

  ‘Some heavy object is more likely,’ she suggested. ‘The stream winds through grassy banks there. Nothing to harm anyone should they slip.’

  ‘Or were pushed.’

  ‘You think he was hit and then pushed?’ she whispered. People were pressing in close to try to hear what they were saying but not wishing to set off alarms or a man-hunt driven by rumour, she glanced at Hywel for confirmation. He gave a slight nod.

  ‘Where are you fellows taking him?’ He sat back on his heels.

  ‘To the mortuary, magister.’

  ‘Yes, best get him out of this heat.’

  A few burly lay-brothers, with no qualms about touching a dead body, lifted him between them and with their escort of excited followers started for the mortuary attached to the north wall of the church.

  Before they got far Hildegard caught up with them. ‘Hold it. I just want to…’ She had seen something in the dead man’s hand. It was scarcely visible. A shaft of sunlight had momentarily picked it out.

  Mystified, the men stopped and laid their burden down.

  ‘It’s just this.’ She began to winkle a finger inside the tight fist holding the last thing Lionel had grasped as he fell into the water. It was impossible to force open his fingers.

  ‘If it’s something he’s got in his hand you’ll have to wait until the rigor leaves him. A few hours, no more.’

  While this was going on the guard at the door of the sacristy was discussing matters with a mob of lay visitors who thought it their duty to bring justice to the abbey. His tone was reasonable but firm.

  ‘Look at it like this,’ he was heard to say. ‘You’ve judged and condemned these men without hearing their side of the story. Instead of acting like a lot of savages and dragging them out to summary justice wouldn’t it be more reasonable to give the matter a few moment’s thought and, if you have any evidence, to put the matter before Abbot Philip? Summary justice is not our way.’

  One or two brawny lay-brothers joined him and stood shoulder to shoulder with folded arms staring back at the crowd. It was clear the latter were not going to get their way without a few broken heads. Muttering, they began to disperse.

  Hywel, although curious about what the dead man might have been holding in his hand, was far more interested in retrieving the Stone from Delith, if she had it. Hildegard’s wish to speak to her had a different motive.

  ‘She’s packing and just about to go on board ship,’ she warned him. ‘Come on!’

  She raced across the garth with Hywel at her heels and while he waited below she hurled herself up the stairs two at a time and burst into the domitory. As she half-expected, Delith had worked out what had happened and fled.

  When she ran down into the garth again Hywel had been joined by his apprentice, Lucie and Alaric.

  ‘If she had it, or has it,’ he panted as he ran alongside Hildegard with the other three following at their heels. ‘And if she has not sold it to somebody in Hound. If, in fact, she has ever had it, come to that. Or if she has it and would be willing to sell it to me. Or I could get a message to Prince Owain to let him know we have it, that’s if she has it still, or if not – ’

  ‘Hywel, why don’t you save you
r breath until we find out if she’s still here? We have to find her first, then you can ask your questions.’

  Chaper Fourteen

  When they ran out onto the top of the bank they saw that a crowd of pilgrims had settled on the strand with their luggage. Some had evidently been there since the rumour had spread that Master John had acquired a ship for them. Now food was being eaten and flasks emptied.

  Easy to spot among them was Delith.

  She was still wearing the russet gown but had adorned her black hair with a cheap-looking crispinette from which one of her veils floated.

  Hywel was first to crunch over the shingle towards her. She was collecting shells, arranging them in patterns in her lap as she sat on her luggage waiting to be taken aboard the ship.

  As he approached she looked up with a brazen smile. ‘Oh it’s you. Are you coming with us too, magister? We can always use a friar to brighten our voyage. Perhaps you’ll be good enough to read the signs to tell us what sort of sea trip we’re likely to encounter?’

  ‘You’ll need a necromancer for that, lady. Now may I ask you something?’ Without asking her permission he sat down beside her. ‘Let me say at once, there’ll be no harm to you if the answer is yes and I will pay you for what I want.’

  ‘That is the usual way, friar – as I’m sure you know.’

  Hildegard heard this and wondered if Hywel would explode with rage but he spoke as softly as to a child. ‘It’s simply this. A little trinket was unloosed from the cover of a book that was sent to me by a friend from Outremer. It quite spoils the look of the thing to have one worthless little stone missing and I believe you saw the book on board the St Marie and, perhaps thinking how pretty the stone was – although there are prettier ones – thought to take it as something to remember that terrible night by…’

  Delith did not answer straight away. When she did so it was to laugh in Hywel’s face. ‘You think me so sinful, magister…to think that I would steal!’

  ‘In the heat of the moment I’m sure it wouldn’t have felt like stealing.’

  ‘Perhaps not.’ She looked thoughtfully out across the water. ‘What makes you think I have it?’

  ‘I hope and pray you have it.’

  ‘Because it means much to you?’

  ‘Indeed.’

  ‘Was this friend in Outremer your lover?’

  His lips tightened. ‘No, he was a colleague working on a study of rocks and their qualities. Nothing you would find interesting or relevant to your life here.’

  ‘And you think me not only sinful but stupid as well, that I would admit to possessing something like that?’

  ‘You have no reason for suggesting I think ill of you and there is nothing stupid about admitting to the truth.’

  ‘This little stone, then, if it’s so empty of worth, why not substitute another?’

  ‘That one was sent to me particularly.’

  ‘Your friend will never know you’ve put another in its place.’

  ‘That is not the point. It means something – in the language of stones,’ he added. ‘Much like the language of flowers where a red rose means I plight my troth…’

  ‘So this worthless little stone was a sign that someone had plighted their troth to you?’

  ‘No, that was just an example of…’

  ‘I’m not sure I believe a word you say. I believe it has more worth than you’re admitting.’ She levelled her blue, calculating gaze on him.

  ‘I am so desirous of it I will pay whatever you ask, as I’ve already said.’

  ‘But have I told you I have it?’

  He eyed her narrowly. ‘You have not told me you have it not.’

  A movement and a rising murmur from around them made them look up. Hildegard, listening carefully to Hywel and Delith from where she stood on the bank, raised her head to see what everyone was looking at.

  From out of the murmur a shout arose. ‘The ship! This must be her!’

  A smallish cog with a big square sail, well set, was turning in from the deep mid-channel to approach the shore. A shout on board had the sail dropping with a thud and the whole ship shuddered as an anchor chain rattled over the stern and hit bottom, and then she was caught and turned her bows in a drifting, slow gyration until she again faced towards the sea.

  ‘Good timing, it’s right on slack water. That’s as close as she’s able to get. Come on everybody, to the boats!’

  A general movement of bustling excitement took over as everyone began to pack away their food and pick up their bags and started jostling towards the water-line where a row of small boats were laid up.

  Delith rose to her feet. ‘How much?’ She looked directly at Hywel and waited, tapping her fingers on the strap of her bag.

  Hywel rose to his feet as well. He knew, as, probably, did Delith, that he had no means of making payment on him. ‘I will bring money…’

  ‘I want it now or never. I’m about to leave.’

  ‘I can have you stopped from going on board – ’

  ‘Try it!’

  ‘On suspicion of theft. Do you know what will happen to you when the stone is found in your possession?’

  ‘You’ll have to find it first, friar. Do you intend to search me…personally?’ Her eyes gleamed with challenge. ‘Do so. Come now, everyone!’ she shouted. ‘This friar wishes to get his hands on me. Do you want to witness this?’ She turned back to Hywel as, stopped in their tracks, a dozen pilgrims turned to watch. ‘Your move, my dear man. Take your time. I’m ready and waiting.’

  She arranged herself in a provocative pose.

  Convinced it was a bluff, that the stone was somewhere on her, Hywel nevertheless hesitated.

  ‘Perhaps your maid and I might search your clothes while the friar looks inside your bag?’ Hildegard stepped forward. Lucie followed.

  By now the small boats ready to take the pilgrims on board had emptied again as everyone began to realise that something interesting was happening further up the beach.

  One or two men standing close enough to hear what had been said, urged the friar on. ‘Do as you’re told, magister. You heard the lady!’

  ‘I’ll give you a hand!’ another called.

  ‘Aye, and so will I!’

  Smiling, Delith called, ‘Go ahead, boys. This won’t cost you a penny.’

  Hywel was white-faced with rage. He knew he was bested and he squirmed in humiliation.

  Then Gregory and Egbert who had merely followed in puzzlement when they saw the others running from the abbey stepped forward. Gregory said, ‘If there is a dispute over abbey property I’m sure we can expect the abbot to give a fair judgement when the matter is put before him.’

  The smile left Delith’s face. ‘I haven’t time for that! The ship is about to leave. Do you think I’m going to let it go without me after waiting here all this time?’

  She bent to pick up her bag but Egbert took it from her grasp. ‘If you will, mistress, remain here on the beach. I shall personally go and fetch the abbot or one of his representatives to settle this matter before the ship sails. It is not our intention to thwart your plans to go on pilgrimage. Far from it.’

  With a glance at Gregory to hold the fort until he returned he strode off up the bank.

  The other pilgrims, even the ones who had offered to help Hywel make a personal search, turned sheepishly towards the boats with their belongings.

  ‘They will take up all the best places on deck,’ Delith wailed, with a weighing glance at Gregory. Thinking she might sway him she added, ‘I’ve so looked forward to visiting the shrine of our dear Saint James at Compostela. You wouldn’t have me miss my chance to absolve my sins, would you, brother, and to pray for my dear departed husband?’

  ‘Indeed not, mistress. And I can guarantee you will be on that ship as soon as this matter is sorted out to everyone’s satisfaction.’ He turned to Hywel. ‘I’m sure you know an accusation of theft is a serious matter?’

  Hywel gave him a dark look.

&n
bsp; Almost before they had seen him out of sight, Egbert reappeared at the top of the bank. He was accompanied by a group of lay-brothers. He beckoned to Hildegard to come up.

  ‘Where’s the abbot?’ she asked.

  ‘The sacristan’s coming down instead. He’s just locking up. But these fellows have something for you.’

  One of them held out his hand. ‘Is this what you were trying to make him give up, domina?’

  Into her palm he dropped a small piece of torn fabric. It was blue.

  Scarcely giving herself time to thank him she ran down the bank to the beach. ‘Have you checked her luggage?’ she demanded. It seemed nobody had moved since she had gone up to speak to Egbert.

  ‘Search all you like, domina.’A sneer curled Delith’s upper lip. ‘You’ll find no stone of any kind in there. Go ahead!’

  Remembering that Delith had taken out the blue gown to give to Lucie she hesitated. ‘Lucie, you know your mistress’s garments, their colours and fabric, do you recognize this?’ She held out the scrap for Lucie to take. She fingered it for only a moment before saying, ‘It looks like a piece torn from one of mistress’s gowns.’

  ‘Was it torn last time you saw it?’

  ‘Not that I remember. I would have repaired it if I’d known about it.’

  ‘But you did not know about this, did you?’

  The girl shook her fuzz of blonde hair.

  ‘You did not know about it because after it happened your mistress hid the garment at the bottom of her bag.’ She swiveled to hurry back up the bank. There was only one way to confirm her suspicions and link Delith to the death of Lionel and that was to find the gown and see if the pieces matched. In her heart she knew there was no doubt but it was only fair to Delith to demonstrate the truth of what she suspected.

  At the top of the bank she turned to look back.

  The group on the beach had not moved but the rest of the pilgrims were already being taken across in a flotilla of little boats.

  In the time since the replacement vessel had arrived the light had changed as the sun began to slide behind the bank on the other side of the water, drawing down with it all the shades of red in a crimson fluorescence shot through with gold and silver flecks and a softer hue like the pink on the wings of seraphim. A lurid glow at the heart of this effulgent outpouring tinged everything turned towards it with the colour of blood.