The tide held the waters in suspension at the moment of its turning. After flooding unstoppably upstream the change was undetectable, water particles gathered and gained in volume and, at the point of fullness, like the moon with its own waxing gathered into itself, they would start out on the next phase, a waning in the case of the moon, a torrent of water from the rivers and inland lakes, from the marshes and streams and reed-beds, in the case of the ebbing tide as it flowed back to the sea.
Without waiting to observe the moment, feeling part of it, Hildegard hastened back inside the abbey precinct.
It was exceptionally quiet.
Vespers sent the singing of the choir spinning in harmony into the empyrean.
Unhindered by the need for explanations, she ran up the back stairs onto the upper floor and along the corridor to the women’s guest chamber. Everything was as they had left it.
In moments she had snatched up the blue gown from where it still lay on the floor and held it up. The piece of torn fabric fitted the tear in the neckline exactly.
By the time she returned to the bank top… everything on the beach had changed.
Chapter Fifteen
The sun was now resting on the horizon in its final blood-red descent into night. The St Marie, black against such radiance, was straining at her anchor chain which was pulled taut by the increasing power of the ebb.
In this unearthly light the first person she noticed on the beach was Gregory. White-robed and elongated he was reaching out as if to restrain someone. Hywel was kneeling on the shingle nearby staring fixedly towards the water. Egbert was standing further up the bank with a couple of lay-brothers, a restraining hand on each of them. Jankin and Alaric, a little lower down, were simply staring at something at the water’s edge. No-one moved.
Then she saw what held them in thrall.
It was Delith. She was backing into the shallows with Lucie. They were both already up to their knees in water. The hems of their gowns were dark and streamed away from them, carried by its force. Delith held her maid’s arms by her sides with one arm wrapped around her.
In her free hand she held a knife to Lucie’s throat.
As Hildegard moved down the bank as unobtrusively as she could she heard Delith shout something. No-one moved.
Noticing Hildegard, she gave a scream of warning.
‘Nun! I’m warning you! Come any closer and she’ll die!’
The knife glittered in the crimson light. With one arm hooked round Lucie’s body, she pinned her helplessly as she began to back towards the last remaining boat lying half in the water. Her intention to climb on board was clear. What she then hoped to do was not. Again no-one moved.
Hildegard called. ‘Release your maid. What harm has she done to you?’
‘Back off! I mean what I say! Don’t try me!’
With agonizing slowness Delith felt behind her for the boat with one foot and forced Lucie inside without taking the knife from her throat.
Jankin let out a roar of rage but was helpless to do anything for fear of the blade so close to his beloved’s white and slender neck.
Wondering how she was going to get the boat into the water Hildegard saw the same question occur to Delith. Enraged she swore at the people on the bank then gave a massive push backwards, leaping over the side as it trundled into the tide and the waves took it. She fell on top of Lucie, the knife visibly in place, as the ebb, gripping in its pent force the boat, began to drift it down-stream, away from the beach and away into the nearside channel.
At the same moment, as Lucie was momentarily released from Delith’s stranglehold, she hit her in the face, stood up, then recklessly flung herself over the side into the water.
Delith screamed in fury. Grabbing the paddle, she yelled, ‘Get back into this boat!’
In response Lucie began to swim for the shore but did not get far before she began to flounder in her long skirts. Delith dug the paddle into the flood and turned the bows towards her, intent on pursuit.
With a feral howl that twisted the heart, Jankin could wait no longer but shouting Lucie’s name, lunged down the beach straight into the water. He was up to his knees then to his waist before he hesitated with sudden indecision but throwing all fear of water aside, he launched himself towards his love with outstretched arms, her name ripped from his throat again and again.
A voice shouted, ‘He can’t swim!’ and someone ran down the beach after him and threw themselves bodily into the water and, before Hildegard could see who it was, began to swim with powerful strokes towards him.
Hildegard noticed that Lucie went under then came back to the surface, spluttering and gasping for air, and Jankin, desperately trying to reach her, vanished then reappeared, and was carried closer by the ebb. Their fingers touched then both of them went under.
The swimmer who had gone in was Hywel. He swam under the water in an effort to find the drowning couple but rose to the surface without them. Delith swung the boat towards him then lifted the paddle like a weapon. Before she could bring it down Jankin spluttered to the surface and Hywel, ignoring the paddle, swam towards him, grabbing him by the arm and forcing him into a life-saving hold before beginning to swim back towards the shore.
Lucie had disappeared completely. Delith was probing the water with her paddle and Alaric, quicker than Hildegard in ridding himself of his garments, had already plunged into the water and was almost at the place where Lucie had last been seen before Delith noticed him. She stood poised to strike as he neared the boat but Alaric, hearing the warning shouts from those by now scrambling into the water, dived under and he, too, disappeared from sight.
He was gone.
The surface of the water was covered by a sheen like crimson silk as the tide gathered its force and smoothed flat its rippling waves.
‘Oh heaven’s! Both of them!’ Hildegard’s heart was clenched with fear as she ripped at her habit and tried to disentangle herself from its enveloping folds. Egbert came running down from half-way up the bank ready to dive into the water. But then something amazing happened.
Alaric’s head broke the surface a little way downstream where the current had carried him. Although he appeared to be trapped by something submerged when he began to swim towards them they saw that he was dragging something after him. It was Lucie. He had hold of her gown but she was splashing in panic, hindering him somewhat until he said something to her, and then they drifted together, away from the threat posed by Delith, to where they eventually reached the shallows further down.
They lay in the flow of water near the beach for a moment until many helpers ran to bring them ashore and one strapping lay-brother lifted up the girl in his arms and carried her onto the bank. Alaric, regaining his breath and as lithe as ever, loped after them, escorted by a posse of youths.
He flopped down on the beach when he reached the rest of the group.
‘Is Jankin safe?’ he asked Hildegard as she came up.
The apprentice was lying face down on the grass. Hywel was pumping water from his lungs with an assured skill. After a few moments Jankin lifted his head and groaned and then he was suddenly sitting up and looking wildly round. ‘How did I get here?...Where’s Lucie?’ And when he was reassured by the sight of her sitting on the grass he rose shakily to his feet and stumbled towards her to clutch her in his arms as if he would never let her go. ‘She’ll never box your ears again,’ he muttered over and over again.
Meanwhile, Delith, trying to control the boat in the increasing rush of the outgoing tide, held it off-shore long enough for them to hear her jeer. ‘Take her then! I shall buy twelve maids when I’m a lady in France. And I have your stone, friar! Do you still want it?’
She pulled at her bodice and took something from it. ‘Why don’t you swim out and get it? Come on, friar. Here it is! Look!’
She held it up. ‘How much are you offering?’ She began to laugh. ‘Fools, all of you! You’ll never catch me!’
Hildegard went to the water’s edge
and shouted across. ‘Delith, did you kill Lionel?’
‘You know as well I do, nun. You have the evidence there in your hand. He was evil. He needed to die. I’m glad I killed him. It was easy. One blow with a stone on his thick skull and down he went! Just my luck the stream was diverted into the kitchen sluice. I nearly got away with it, didn’t I? He got what he deserved. And now I’m going to get what I deserve!’ Her laughter rang with triumph.
Hildegard put a restraining hand on Egbert’s sleeve as he made as if to go after her. ‘Let her go,’ she murmured, ‘give her a chance. Let God dispose as he will.’
Turning the bows of the boat towards the opposite shore Delith began to paddle against the tide for Deep Dale purlieu.
They all watched as the boat headed into the setting sun until it was little more than a speck on the crimson expanse of Southampton Water. Soon they noticed that instead of maintaining its heading towards the purlieu where she might live outside the king’s writ, the boat was caught by the tide like a leaf on the ebb and was borne away towards the open sea.
The light faded.
Soon they could see her no more.
A single star, Venus, Hildegard supposed, became a bright point in the darkness, and then the moon appeared in full and effulgent glory from behind the trees.
Making their way back to the abbey they came to the gatehouse and had to stand aside as the wagon belonging to the earl came scraping underneath the arch. The waggoner and his lad sat at the front and the canvas cover was tied neatly down behind them. Only when it drew level were voices heard within, accompanied by the dull clanking of something like steel, swords maybe, rattling in their scabbards.
The night porter was the only one to wave it off. He turned to Egbert as it rattled off down the lane. ‘I hinted that you were only waiting for reinforcements. A remark about militant monks impressed them. I doubt they’ll be back.’
Egbert grinned. ‘It’s not a bad idea. I’ll put it to the abbot himself.’
‘And by the way, brother, you can keep that key for a while if you like. Your own swords are still safe within and available should you need them.’
‘That’s unlikely now they’ve gone.’ Egbert slapped the fellow on the back. ‘Peace and quiet for a while, eh?’
Soon, wearing dry clothes and supplied lavishly with food and drink, everyone congregated in the warming room where they remained until long after compline, going over what had happened and celebrating the dangers that, in different ways, had been overcome.
Jankin and Lucie sat holding hands looking dazed. Hywel was white-faced and mostly silent. The two monks were content with flagons in their hands. And again, Alaric was the hero of the hour.
‘You must teach me to swim like that, Alaric,’ Hildegard heard Jankin ask.
‘As well as somersaults? With pleasure. It’s scant reward for teaching me to read.’
He shot a guilty glance at Hywel who merely smiled, though still tight-lipped. ‘I’ll teach you more than he can. You might as well start on some Latin as well. Then get yourself thrown out of the abbey. Set up as a magician in the weekly markets. You’ll soon become a rich man.’
‘I don’t think Alaric would want…’ began Lucie but Jankin tapped her hand and shook his head.
‘I’d be feeding fishes now if it wasn’t for you, magister,’ he said. ‘I concede your Welsh superiority in the matter of swimming.’ He grinned.
For once Hywel did not come back with a retort. His sight was turned inwards to his own dark griefs.
Hildegard could see how much it was costing him to acknowledge the loss of the Stone. What trouble these ambitions cause men, she was thinking, when her thoughts were interrupted as a messenger entered.
‘It’s Mistress Beata. She’s with a priest now and would like you all to attend her if you will.’
Alaric was first on his feet. ‘Has she taken a turn for the worst?’ he demanded, his gentle voice tinged with concern.
‘It looks like it,’ replied the lad with the message. ‘Are you coming?’
Alaric almost ran from the room and more slowly the others followed. ‘She wants us all?’ asked Gregory of the lad.
‘I think she wants an audience. She has something to say. Remember this bidding war she’s started for some old book?’
Beata was propped up and when they entered the infirmary Alaric was already plumping up her pillows and tidying some oddments on the little shelf beside her bed. A priest sat on the ledge of the partition that separated her cubicle from the empty one next to it.
Master John had arrived before them and found a chair for himself. When he saw Hildegard enter he got up. ‘Domina, pray take my seat…’
She thanked him but shook her head. ‘You are more involved in this than I.’
Her attention had been drawn to another figure sitting next to the bed. Her heart gave a lurch. Hubert smiled up at her and waved a hand towards his bandaged leg. It was held in a casing of plaster to keep it in position. ‘Forgive me, I cannot get up.’
‘Of course you can’t. Don’t even think it.’ A stool was found and she sat next to him. ‘Are you meant to be doing this?’
He reached for her wrist inside her sleeve and made an amulet round it with his fingers. ‘Hywel tells me so.’
The others arranged themselves, overflowing the cubicle and fetching chairs from elsewhere, then they waited to hear what Beata had to say.
‘Welcome, my friends…’ she began but was straightaway interrupted by the arrival of the two sisters. They looked flushed and harried.
‘Has she - ?’ began Mistress Sweet before glancing at the bed. Observing Beata’s cool smile and the fact that she was still very much alive she fell silent and bowed her head in embarrassment.
Mistress Sour went to the bedside. ‘We came as soon as the boy found us. I trust you have news for us, mistress?’
‘Indeed I have. My decision is made. It took some time because my sympathies lie with you, Friar Hywel. However, I know you cannot offer me a proper price and I cannot wait until you find someone who wants the book enough to pay for it. The cash is important to me and, you will understand, there is some urgency to the matter.’
She turned to the two sisters. ‘You need not wait. I will not sell to you. Here, take it back.’ She reached for the trinket Ceci had offered her. ‘You are best off buying and selling in the market place where you started. I wish you well.’
With a somewhat ill grace Ceci picked up the trinket and it was noticeable that she avoided the glare her sister gave her.
‘We’ll stay and see who comes off best if you don’t mind, mistress.’ Genista sounded chastened and Beata nodded her agreement.
‘I won’t keep you in suspense. I have decided to offer the book to Master John, not because he’s my husband, but because he offered the highest price and I even have his gold here as proof of his interest.’
She indicated a leather bag and, poking it with one yellowed finger nail, made it clink with the sound of coin. ‘Dear John. I am grateful, as ever. And as I am on my death bed and want to say what I have never said before, and certainly not in front of others, I will say this. I have had a good life with you. I would not have had it otherwise. We argued and had our ups and downs but in the end we got along, didn’t we?’
John leaned forward and took both her hands in his. ‘My sins never went unnoticed by you. I have you to thank for making my life relatively blameless. But you are not finished yet. I know you, Beata. You will fight your corner and never give in.’ He kissed her hands. ‘My old sweetheart, the best of them all. I salute you.’ He raised his head. ‘But now, where is the book?’
Beata turned her head. ‘Alaric, my dear, fetch it, if you will.’
‘Where is this hiding place?’ Hywel asked Hildegard. She shook her head. ‘Since he took it out of the sluice I have no idea.’
They all watched as Alaric eyed one of the wooden roof beams above their heads. He took a spring upwards to grasp it by both hands.
With an acrobat’s lithe skill he swung himself onto it and stood upright, balancing for a moment, in all his glorious youth and strength, then he ran nimbly along it to the place where it abutted the wall.
His long fingers stroked the white-washed surface until he found what he was looking for. Edging a stone from its position he revealed a cavity, took out a small parcel in a waterproof bag, and held it up.
‘I would never have thought of looking there.’ John said with chagrin.
Alaric swung down, feather-light, from the beam and handed the parcel to Beata with a flourish.
It was difficult not to applaud and Jankin and Lucie did so.
‘What will happen to it now?’ asked Mistress Sour.
Master John answered her. ‘I will hand it over to Abbot Philip, who will pay me for it, and he in his turn will hand it on to this knight who has been causing him so much trouble, and he will pay for it. What the knight will do with it is to sell it on to the earl. At each exchange someone will make a profit.’ He smiled at her. ‘That’s how it’s done, mistress – ’
‘As I now so well understand.’
‘And what will you do with your profit, my dear Beata?’ John reached for her hand again. Maybe he expected her to hand back the leather bag when she lifted it off the shelf and held it on her lap.
‘You’re right to ask, why would someone at death’s door need money? I do not need it for myself. You, my husband, with my help, have always kept me well, and I have enough for my present small needs. But there is someone here who can put it to good use. It will enable him to buy the future he deserves.’
Turning to Alaric she held out the bag of coins. ‘Take it my dear boy, and buy your place as a novice with the Cistercians. One day you will be abbot, either here or elsewhere, and you will do much good. My blessings on you for all your kindness.’
The Alchemist of Netley Abbey: Eighth in the Hildegard of Meaux medieval mystery series Page 29
