‘Thank you, my lord. And thanks to all of you.’
‘Huna deserves most of the thanks,’ said the dwarf. ‘It was he who devised the way to get you out of the abbey. I am sorry that you had to pretend to be my bear. You made Ursa very jealous.’
‘Waste no more time!’ urged Thorkell. ‘Be off!’
He slapped the rump of the horse and it trotted off in the darkness. Boio was on his way to freedom. The men relaxed, the donkey brayed and the bear gave a yawn. Right of sanctuary was no longer needed.
‘The wonder of it is,’ said Thorkell, turning to Huna, ‘that you saw me when you came out of the abbey earlier.’
‘Boio had talked so much about you, my lord. I recognised you at once by his description. There are not many thegns of your standing left.’
‘Two of us in the whole realm.’
‘I wish there were more overlords like you.’
‘Yes,’ said the dwarf. ‘You came here to help Boio.’
‘That was why I was so delighted when Huna took me aside. I came to help Boio and you two had already contrived his escape.
There could not have been a happier coincidence.’
‘It was an accident which heaven provided,’ said Huna.
‘It was another miracle,’ declared the dwarf.
‘Yes,’ agreed the old man. ‘One day, I will tell you how I did it.’
Epilogue
The dispute which they had expected to take longest to resolve was settled in the shortest time. Events outside the shire hall simplified the decision taken within it. Instead of having to listen to the competing claims of three people, the commissioners only sat in judgement on two. Locked in a castle dungeon, Adam Reynard had to forego his participation in the legal battle over coveted holdings, preoccupied as he was with a legal battle to escape a hideous punishment for poaching. What also speeded up the process for the tribunal was that they were already well acquainted with the two contenders before them and were thus able to anticipate their lines of argument. Robert de Limesey was in direct contention with Thorkell of Warwick. It was another confrontation between Church and State as a Norman bishop tried to oust a Saxon thegn from land which he had owned and occupied for several decades.
There was another paradox. The man on whom the bishop relied to help him most gave him least assistance. Indeed, it was Archdeacon Theobald, chafing at the idleness imposed on him by the suspension of the commissioners’ work, who brought most passion to the shire hall when the sessions there resumed. He showed due respect for the bishop’s eminence but very little for his claim.
‘In essence it has almost no legal basis at all,’ he said.
‘That is not true, Archdeacon Theobald,’ replied Robert with condescension, as if cuffing an errant chorister. ‘Our charter lays before you to attest the legitimacy of our claim but it not only rests on a legal right. We also have a moral right to that land.’
‘I see no moral right in this charter.’
‘Read between the lines.’
‘I prefer to read the lines themselves, my lord bishop,’ said Theobald with crushing firmness, ‘and they fail to convince me that you have any right — legal or moral — to be here at all.’
‘That is a monstrous suggestion!’
‘I do not make it lightly.’
Robert de Limesey was shocked. During his conversation with Gervase Bret at the abbey, he thought he had secured a firm promise that the property would certainly be his but he was now being run ragged by a troublesome archdeacon. In desperation he turned to Gervase.
‘I appeal to you, Master Bret.’
‘My thoughts coincide with those of my colleague,’ said Gervase.
‘But you said that you would look kindly upon my claim.’
‘In the circumstances, we have looked very kindly upon it, my lord bishop. Now that I have had time to examine the document you have offered us, I can see how flimsy a claim you really have.
It was kindness even to consider it.’
‘In brief,’ said Theobald, ‘your charter is worthless.’
The bishop rose to his feet as if about to excommunicate the whole tribunal but he was restrained by the anxious Brother Reginald, who plucked at his sleeve like a child trying to get the attention of its mother. Robert contented himself with a few trenchant opinions about the incompetence of the tribunal, glared at Gervase as if he could see thirty pieces of silver in his hand, then stormed out with his mitre wobbling. Ralph Delchard burst into uncontrollable laughter.
‘That was wonderful, Theobald!’ he said, patting him on the back. ‘You ought to be given a bishopric yourself.’
‘I fear that I have just ruined any hopes I may have had of advancement in the Church,’ said the other modestly. ‘Robert de Limesey is a powerful man. He will find ways to obstruct my future path.’
‘Then you deserve even more praise,’ added Ralph. ‘Attacking a man whom you knew was in a position to retaliate. But why on earth did he turn up here in full vestments? We came to haggle over land, not to celebrate Mass.’
Theobald smiled. ‘The bishop finds the two synonymous.’
‘I have some sympathy for him,’ said Gervase. ‘I led him astray.’
‘You gave him no commitment at all,’ recalled Ralph. ‘I was there. All you did was to let him think that he was a more subtle advocate than you. Robert de Limesey has learned the truth now.
It will not leave him with fond memories of Warwick.’
‘No, my lord,’ said Brother Benedict. ‘I fear that he has still not recovered from what happened at the abbey. The bishop must have had a profound shock when he discovered that Boio was no longer there.’
‘Yes,’ said Ralph, shaking with mirth. ‘When I arrested Philippe Trouville and took him back to Coventry, I arrived to find the bishop standing outside the abbey in the pouring rain and ordering the lord Henry to leave. He delivered the most stirring rhetoric about right of sanctuary and said that nobody would take the blacksmith out of the abbey while he was there to protect him.
He had no idea that the bird had already flown!’
‘I wonder where he went,’ mused Benedict.
‘No matter,’ said Gervase. ‘He is safe.’
‘Praise be to God!’
They gathered up their things and made their way back to the castle, having first given instructions to Ednoth the Reeve to send word to Thorkell that his land was now intact. Theobald and Benedict walked ahead. Ralph and Gervase strolled behind them.
‘Theobald was masterly,’ said Ralph.
‘Do not forget Benedict,’ said Gervase. ‘He too has been a huge asset to us as our scribe. We have been fortunate in both men.
They make up for the deficiencies in our other colleague.’
‘I have been trying to forget Philippe Trouville!’
‘He was yelling all night from his dungeon.’
‘He will yell even more when the sheriff returns and puts him on trial for murder. The lord Philippe confessed he lost his temper with Grimketel and beat the fellow to death. His wife is lucky that he never showed that kind of violence to her.’
‘What will happen to the lady Marguerite?’
‘When she has got over the shock of losing a husband, I think she will realise what a blessing it really is. My guess is that she will find Heloise, then go back to Normandy with her.’
‘Neither of them was very happy in England.’
‘With good reason. His name was Philippe Trouville.’
Milder weather brought more citizens out into the streets and encouraged more visitors from the outlying area. Warwick had something akin to its usual noise and bustle. Gervase looked around with approval.
‘This is a goodly town.’
‘Make the most of it while we are here, Gervase.’
‘Why?’
‘I do not think we will be invited back.’
‘No, Ralph. We have already outstayed our welcome as far as the lord Henry is concerned. We caused him a lot of
trouble.’
Ralph grinned. ‘I like to make my presence felt.’
‘He will never forgive us for trying to help Boio,’ said Gervase.
‘I think he still believes that we arranged for the blacksmith to slip out of the abbey and flee the county.’
‘Yes, Gervase. And in one sense, he is right.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You were the one who brought Thorkell into action.’
‘He was the only person who could have found a new life for his blacksmith. Boio could never have stayed in Warwickshire.’
‘The lord Henry had too many scores to settle with him.’
‘It was ironic really,’ observed Gervase.
‘What was?’
‘Boio was arrested on false evidence for something in which he was actually involved. When Grimketel claimed he had seen Boio in the forest that morning he had no idea that the man had been there the previous night, lugging the body of Martin Reynard to that ditch. So Grimketel’s lie did have a grain of truth in it.’
Ralph grew thoughtful. ‘We have to admit it, Gervase,’ he said.
‘Boio fooled us. I believed that he was completely innocent. So did you. So did Benedict.’
‘He was innocent of murder. He fought Martin Reynard in self-defence, and killed him because he was unaware of his own strength.’
‘If what Asmoth told you is true.’
‘It was, Ralph. No question about it. Ask Golde.’
‘I can see why Boio could not confess what really happened.
Who would have believed him? He could hardly accuse the lord Henry of planting the reeve on Thorkell as a spy. And what kind of a witness would Asmoth have been on his behalf?’
‘A poor one.’
‘He did the right thing in pleading his innocence.’
‘Boio only claimed to be innocent of murder,’ noted Gervase.
‘Which he was. That is why he could swear to Benedict that he was not guilty of the crime for which they arrested him. But you are correct, Ralph. He fooled all of us. He is far more astute than we gave him credit for.’
‘The biggest fools are the lord Henry and the Bishop of Lichfield.
They are still seething because Boio got out of the abbey under their very noses. Thanks to Huna. That old man was a wily fellow.’
‘He was the one who recognised Thorkell and sought his help for Boio. If he had not done that, we would never have learned how they managed to smuggle someone as big as Boio out of the abbey.’ Gervase smiled at the memory. ‘Thorkell could hardly stop laughing when he explained it to me afterwards.’
‘The dwarf led him out as if he were a performing bear!’
‘Right past the lord Henry’s guards.’
‘He should have turned a few somersaults for them.’
‘It is the greatest irony of all, Ralph.’
‘What is?’
‘They could not catch Boio,’ said Gervase. ‘Warwickshire is full of cunning foxes and that shambling bear of a blacksmith outwitted the whole lot of them!’
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The Foxes of Warwick d-9 Page 28
