by Mel Starr
From the corner of my eye I saw the man with the club lift it high above his head, this fellow having given up on kicking me. Perhaps he had injured his toe. The club descended and I saw all the stars and planets in their orbs. Then I saw nothing.
If any man saw me wounded there in the road he passed by on the other side, and no Good Samaritan found me nor cared for my injuries.
I know not how long I lay in the mud, but when I awoke, my attackers were away. I managed to rise to my knees and saw my palfrey cropping grass at the verge of the road some fifty paces distant. At least, fifty paces for a man in his right mind, able to stride out in robust steps. I was neither. When I finally stumbled near to the beast she took fright of the apparition which approached and trotted another fifty or so paces away. At least the beast traveled toward Bampton.
I spoke soothingly to the palfrey through thickening lips and managed to catch her bridle before she could again draw away. I gained the saddle after only three attempts, which, under the circumstances now that I look back upon it, was a commendable achievement. Although I try not to look back upon the event any more than necessary.
With my heels I prodded the palfrey into motion and watched the world sway past. The beast knew the way to the castle and little more than half an hour later turned into the forecourt with no guidance required of me. Wilfred tugged a forelock as I passed under the portcullis, then I saw his eyes widen. But for the mud on my garments my appearance then was a mystery to me. My features evidently amazed the porter.
I drew the palfrey to a halt before the marshalsea and set about the business of descending from the beast’s back, which seemed likely to be as troublesome as rising to the saddle had been.
Dame Fortune chose that moment to smile upon me. This was proper, as she had been frowning upon me for several hours past.
Arthur Wagge, a groom to Lord Gilbert and my assistant in several matters in recent years, walked at that moment from the hall, saw me about to topple from my perch, and hastened to catch me before I planted my face upon the cobbles of the castle yard. Arthur assisted me from the saddle. I thanked him and stood leaning against the palfrey.
“Master Hugh,” he said with some shock in his voice, “what has happened?”
’Tis awkward to try to speak through lips swollen the size of a large man’s great toe. I opened my mouth to explain my condition, but before I could do so Arthur saw a page crossing the castle yard and shouted to the lad that he must fetch Lord Gilbert.
“Four men,” I managed to say.
“What? You were set upon by four men?”
I nodded. Moving my head brought an ache, but less so than speaking.
“Whereabouts? Where have you been?”
“Went to Kencott.”
“You were attacked in Kencott?”
I shook my head “No” – but gently. “Near to Alvescot… returning,” I said.
“Brigands wanted your purse? I’ll gather some lads an’ we’ll be after the fellows.”
I shook my head “No” again. This was becoming a disagreeable experience.
“They didn’t get your coin? You fought ’em off?”
Again I shook my head “No,” and held up a finger to indicate to Arthur that he should be patient.
Speaking slowly, I told the groom of the advice I had received, delivered with kicks and club, that any further investigation of events in Kencott was not desired. When I had done, Lord Gilbert arrived, followed by two visiting knights.
He asked many of the same questions as Arthur, and the groom, understanding my indisposition, answered for me.
“Have you seen these men before?” Lord Gilbert then asked.
“Nay.”
“You are close to uncovering a thing which some men wish to remain hidden, I think,” Lord Gilbert said. “Else why would men attack you so?”
Here was a fair assertion and a good question. But I was not so close to revealing some hidden thing as some men thought. The beating I had received surely had something to do with the death of Randle Mainwaring and the discovery of bones in Bampton. Some men thought that I was near to finding the hidden truths of the matter. They were wrong. This did not make my wounds less painful.
“A man’s bones have been found here in Bampton,” Lord Gilbert continued, “and it seems the solution to the matter will be learned in Kencott. Why would men desire you be ignorant of the business? Because,” he answered his own question, “they are guilty of murder… or know who is.”
I told Lord Gilbert then of the villein hanging upon the gallows in Kencott, and the evidence against him. My employer raised one questioning eyebrow as I haltingly concluded the abbreviated tale.
“If a murderer has already been punished for his felony, why would men care what questions you asked in Kencott, or what answers were given? There is something rotten about this business,” Lord Gilbert said.
I had been standing beside my palfrey, leaning upon a stirrup, whilst Arthur and Lord Gilbert plied me with questions. This support was suddenly withdrawn. The palfrey grew impatient, I think, for her stall, and so moved a few paces toward the marshalsea. I tried to move with the beast but found myself upon the cobbles, looking up to concerned faces above me.
Arthur was at my side in an instant, and raised me to a sitting position. Lord Gilbert turned to a page and ordered him to seek grooms and a pallet.
“You are in no condition to walk to Galen House,” he said. “Nor are you fit to speak more of this matter now. But,” he continued, “more must be said. I will call at Galen House on the morrow and we will consider what response will be made to this outrage. No men will deal so with my bailiff and escape justice.”
Two grooms appeared with a pallet and lifted me upon it. With Arthur leading the way, I was delivered to Galen House. The grooms rested my pallet upon the ground whilst Arthur smote the door with his fist and I tried to stand so as to appear whole when Kate opened it. In this I failed, and managed only to rise to a sitting position.
Kate opened the door, saw three men standing before her, one of whom she knew well, and then her eyes fell upon me. She dropped to her knees before the pallet. Questions poured from her mouth and tears from her eyes. I had not thought my appearance so dreadful, although now that I consider it, my looks must have reflected my affliction.
Arthur understood her need and my incapacity. He told Kate what I had told him of the cause of my injuries, and when he had done she attempted to lift me to my feet. With Kate at one elbow and Arthur at the other I managed to stand upright. Indeed, the world seemed remarkably stable compared to an hour before. With this assistance I stepped across my threshold. Kate guided me to our table, where Arthur drew up a bench. I sat and rested my elbows upon the planks of the table.
My sleeves were caked with mud and blood, as was the front of my cotehardie. A button had been torn away. I must seek Hubert Shillside, I thought, and buy another. Odd, the thoughts which pass through a disordered mind. Kate returned me to my senses.
“I will cleanse your wounds,” she said, “but then you must tell me what next to do.” Turning to Arthur, she said, “Go to the castle and bring an ewer of wine. Hugh always bathes a wound with wine.”
I heard Arthur reply that he would do so and a moment later his heavy footsteps passed from Galen House.
“Wait here,” Kate commanded. Where did she think I was about to go?
I turned my head – slowly – and watched as Kate poured water from a bucket into a basin. She brought the basin to the table, then turned and walked out of the door to the toft behind Galen House. A moment later she reappeared carrying one of Bessie’s linen chemises which she had earlier washed and laid out upon a bush to dry. It would need to be washed again, for she dipped a corner of the garment in the basin and began to dab at my cheeks and forehead. The water in the basin soon became brown with filth, and she emptied it into the toft, filled it again, and continued the work.
Kate was silent all this time. This was worse tha
n had she berated me for being so careless as to allow myself to be surprised along the road. Sometimes ’tis worse to guess another’s thoughts than to know them.
The water in the basin turned dark more slowly this time. Kate finally straightened from her labor and at that moment Arthur plunged through the door. In his hand was a small stoppered flask.
Kate held out her hand for the flask, withdrew the stopper, and poured some of the wine on a clean corner of the chemise. This she then applied to my cheeks and forehead.
I have done the same to wounded men before I closed their cuts, and watched them wince as the wine touched flesh. I now know why they did so. Why wine applied to a wound will aid its healing is a thing no man knows, but ’tis so.
When she had finished with my lacerations Kate again soaked the corner of the chemise with wine and placed it against my mouth. I sucked upon the wet linen and felt the sting against my split and swollen lips. When Kate took the cloth away I saw upon it red stains which were not from the wine.
“What is now to be done?” Kate asked.
“Mirror,” I mumbled.
When we wed, Kate brought with her from Oxford a small mirror, little larger than the palm of my hand. It was a prized possession of hers. The glass would tell me of my wounds and what further treatment was required.
Kate hurried up the stairs to our chamber, where I heard her exploring the contents of her chest. A moment later she reappeared and handed me the mirror. I held it before my face and saw then why Wilfred, Arthur, Lord Gilbert, and Kate had been so troubled by my appearance.
A kick had laid open my forehead above my left eyebrow, and a flap of skin as long as my thumb lay loose. Both cheeks were lacerated. Two small cuts disfigured my right cheek and one, deeper, angled from nose to ear across my left cheek.
The cuts upon my cheek were just above my beard. They, and the slash across my forehead, would have to be sewn together. Kate would have to do the work, but she would not be required to trim away my beard.
Kate was not much pleased to learn that she must take upon her the role of surgeon. When I told her she looked to Arthur, who had remained after delivering the wine, as if she wished for him to ply the needle and put my face together again.
Arthur evidently also thought her glance an entreaty, for he raised his hands before him and said, “Nay, Mistress Kate. I’m no tailor.”
My Kate is talented with a needle and thread, and she put the skill to good use. So well did she stitch up my face that by Michaelmas a man would have needed to examine me closely to see the scars.
I told Kate to get needle and silk thread from my instruments box, peered again into the mirror to closely examine my wounds, then with Bessie’s chemise dabbed away blood and told Kate to begin with the laceration upon my forehead.
She has seen me stitch wounds together, and so with delicate fingers she drew the edges of the cut together and I felt the prick of the needle as she began the task.
“How many stitches must I make?” she asked.
“The scar will be the less if you make many small stitches,” I replied through thick lips. “Ten or twelve.”
“Twelve, then,” Kate said, and I watched her frown in concentration as she plied the needle.
I heard her say, “Thirteen,” and then she straightened from the work and put a hand to her back. Sweat glistened from her upper lip.
I lifted the mirror and saw a neat line of silk sutures above my eyebrow. When next I must close a wound I should ask Kate to work the needle. Her work was much finer than any I could do.
With the stained chemise I dabbed drying blood from my cheeks, and with a new length of silk thread Kate labored to close these wounds. She worked slowly, again making many small sutures. When she was done I again raised the mirror to inspect her work.
“Well done,” I mumbled, then moved the mirror to better see my mouth. My lips bulged and were turning purple. In several places their skin was split. There was nothing to be done. I slid my tongue carefully across my teeth and felt one of them move. It did not seem very loose. Perhaps I would not lose it. Time would tell.
Arthur had watched silently while Kate put me back together. He now spoke.
“Lord Gilbert will ride to Kencott on the morrow with ’is knights an’ some of us grooms. Plans to tell Sir John what happened to you, if Sir John don’t already know, an’ tell ’im that you’re not to be molested whilst you are upon ’is business. Furious about this, is Lord Gilbert. Seldom seen ’im so wrathful.”
I had been molested often enough whilst upon Lord Gilbert’s business: beaten, tied with Arthur in a swineherd’s hut, shot through by an arrow. ’Twas enough to make me consider my employment. I would not like to abandon Galen House, but Kate’s father had given as dowry a house in Oxford. We might live there and I practice my trade as surgeon. No man in Oxford was likely to lay about my head with a club or pierce me with an arrow or dagger.
“Will you take some herbs?” Kate interrupted my melancholy thoughts. “You oft give such stuff to injured men. Will you take some pounded lettuce seeds in a cup of ale?”
I nodded my head and Kate left the bench for the chamber where I keep my herbs and instruments. She returned with the pouch of seeds, set it upon the table, then from our pitcher poured a cup of ale.
“How many?” she said, while tipping the pouch so that crushed seeds fell into her palm.
“Enough,” I said. Kate emptied her palm of the seeds into the ale, then offered the drink to me. I swallowed most of it. ’Tis not easy to drink through lips made as round as a fat pike from the mill pond.
Kate found a clean place on the stained chemise and wiped from my beard the ale which had not passed my lips. “Will you eat? A loaf, perhaps?” she said.
I shook my head. I wished most to lie down, but the thought of mounting the stairs to our bedchamber filled me with dread. I envisioned reaching the topmost stair, then pitching backward if my legs refused to obey my commands.
“I’ll be off, then,” Arthur said. “Lord Gilbert said we’ll set off for Kencott soon after dawn. When we return I’ll visit and tell you how matters stand. Unless you want to travel with us?”
I shook my head.
“Didn’t think so,” Arthur said. “Can me an’ Uctred find who did this, they’ll wish for mercy before we’ve done with ’em.”
I thought to speak then to Arthur of forgiveness, but my lips were in no condition to make any long theological discourse. And, to be frank, the thought of Arthur and Uctred avenging me upon my assailants was not unpleasant. I thought this might be a sin. I would confess it to Father Thomas and do penance if it was.
With Arthur grasping my arm, I carefully mounted the stairs to our bedchamber. I discovered then that pain will not keep a man from sleep if he has had a large dose of crushed lettuce seeds. Such a man may sleep, but he will not sleep well.
Chapter 8
I slept fitfully, and when I did I dreamt of clubs and kicks and bloody linen. Toward dawn I fell to deeper sleep, and was not awakened ’till Kate’s rooster crowed. Kate’s place in our bed was empty but warm. She had just arisen to begin the day, but did so silently so as not to disturb me.
She must have heard me place my feet upon the planks, for a moment after I did so I heard her scrambling up the stairs and she shouted for me to await her arrival.
I had removed my bloodied, mud-stained cotehardie and chauces before seeking my bed. The kirtle and braes I slept in were also foul. When Kate entered our chamber she found me bent over my chest withdrawing clean linens. Apparently she thought me incapable of this, for she rushed across the chamber, seized my arm, and would have pulled me back to bed.
When I first stood to approach the chest I feared that my head might swim. I was only a little light-headed as I reached into the chest. But Kate so rushed upon me, concerned that I not fall, that as I stood from the chest with her gripping my arm, I lost my balance. Kate is not a frail lass. Together we tumbled to the planks. I discovered then t
hat my ribs had absorbed a few kicks the day before, which, because of my face, I had not betimes noted.
I stifled a groan while Kate scrambled to rise from my prostrate form, then, for all the aches of face and ribs, I could not but laugh. Kate, I think, thought me mad; that I was deranged from the blows to my skull.
After a few moments she saw that this was not so and a grin spread across her face.
“I apologize, Husband,” she said.
“Accepted. Now, assist me to stand and I will change my linens.”
My lips were yet swollen and stiff but speech seemed easier than the day before. I am not yet thirty years of age. I have noticed that the young heal more rapidly of wounds and injuries than the old. I am no longer a lad, but I must take care when I am fifty, if the Lord Christ permits me so many years, that I do not so antagonize men that they beat and kick me then.
I drew on clean chauces and cotehardie also. Kate waited whilst I did so, and would not hear of me descending the stairs unless she fixed herself to my elbow like a leech. I protested that ’twould be best for only one of us to plunge down the stairs, not both, but my argument did not impress her.
Our tumble and laughter had awakened Bessie and Sybil, so after Kate saw me safe to the ground floor she returned to our chamber to fetch our hungry daughters.
’Twas not only Bessie and Sybil who were hungry. I had had no dinner or supper the day before. Indeed, had I tried to consume a meal then, I might have soon lost it. I take it for a good sign when a patient has regained an appetite, and I had found mine that morning. But ’twas an ordeal to pass even small portions of a loaf past my lips. Kate promised a thin pottage for dinner.
My stomach wished for more, but my lips said, “Enough.” I took some ale, and as I set the cup upon the table I heard hoofbeats approach. Many hoofbeats.
Kate peered at me with a puzzled expression. I guessed who might be approaching and tottered to the door. I opened it to see Lord Gilbert reining his favorite ambler to a halt before Galen House. Behind him was a small army, also mounted. Two knights in Lord Gilbert’s service drew their beasts to a halt behind him. Behind them rode their squires and pages, and squires, grooms and pages in Lord Gilbert’s service, including Arthur and Uctred. I did not count the company, but there must have been twenty men, all armed and resolute of appearance.
