‘Tell me about Owen.’
‘He and Brother Nicholas were closer than we thought.’
‘Is that what Owen told you?’
‘Not in so many words,’ said Kenelm, ‘but that’s what it amounted to. How and when they met, I’m not sure, but they obviously did or they couldn’t have developed a bond between them. That’s what it was, Elaf. A bond. Like the one between us.’
‘But we spend all day together.’
‘It makes no difference.’
‘It does, Kenelm. We’re both novices. We’re the same age, we have the same interests. It’s, well … it’s sort of natural. Brother Nicholas was a monk. He was much older than Owen. What could they possibly have in common?’
‘That’s what I’ve been thinking about.’
‘Did Owen say what it was?’
‘He hinted at it, Elaf. What he did last night proves it. I mean, it takes bravery to go in among those gravestones in the dark. I didn’t have it. I ran away. But Owen had it. And I know who he got it from.’
‘Who?’
‘Brother Nicholas.’
Elaf frowned. ‘From this bond they had between them?’
‘Yes. If I’d heard this a few days ago, I’d have sniggered as loud as anyone, but not now. What happened to both of them has made me show a little more respect. Brother Nicholas was murdered. Owen was taken away by someone. They deserve respect, Elaf.’
‘I know.’
‘Well, don’t laugh when I tell you why Owen went to the cemetery last night. Do you promise?’
‘I promise.’
‘It’s very simple, really.’
‘Is it?’
‘Owen loved him.’
Chapter Eleven
Abraham the Priest was relieved to hear that Ralph Delchard and Gervase Bret were still at the abbey but he had some difficulty in finding them. The prolonged search gave him time to question his motives for wishing to see the commissioners. Competing loyalties tugged his mind first one way and then another, causing him to stop, press on, turn to leave, resume the search and hesitate all over again. When he finally caught up with them, they were in the cemetery, gazing down at the last resting place of Brother Nicholas and looking for signs of a struggle. There were none. Only a raven’s beak had disturbed the earth in the mound. The feet of many mourners had already trampled the grass around the grave so it yielded up no useful clues.
The Archdeacon of Gwent called out to them and raised a hand in greeting. Ralph was not pleased to see him. Fearing that they were about to be petitioned by the newcomer about his claim to land in the Westbury Hundred, he was uncompromisingly firm.
‘Good day to you,’ he said briskly. ‘You must excuse us.’
‘But I have to speak to you, my lord.’
‘Another time.’
‘This will not wait.’
Ralph was blunt. ‘It will have to, Archdeacon. The shire hall is the only place where we consider any dispute so you must save your breath until we return there. May I say, however, that this attempt to gain our ear in private does not become you? It will hardly advance your claim.’
‘I did not come to talk about the dispute, my lord.’
‘No matter. Whatever subject you wish to discuss, we are deaf to it. Our minds are engaged elsewhere. Stand aside, I pray, for we are on urgent business that must not be delayed.’
‘Nothing is more urgent than my business, my lord.’
‘More urgent than the murder of a monk and the abduction of a novice? Really, Archdeacon. Let us keep a sense of proportion here.’
Abraham was shaken. ‘The abduction of a novice? When?’
‘Last night. From this very cemetery.’
‘But how? The abbey is surely locked.’
‘That mystery at least is solved,’ said Gervase, adopting a more friendly tone. ‘A duplicate key was obtained. Someone was able to let themselves in and out of here at will.’
He gave a concise account of what had happened, observing, as he did so, how anxious and uncomfortable the archdeacon was. The poise and dignity he had shown in the shire hall were nowhere to be seen. The impulse which brought the Welshman after them seemed to involve a degree of soul-searching. His face was drawn, his eyes had a haunted look. Gervase’s tale only served to deepen his anguish. Putting aside his own tidings, he pressed for more details about the missing boy. Ralph shifted his feet impatiently but Gervase answered every question, sensing that Abraham had a special interest in the subject.
‘Unhappily, I may be able to help you,’ he said.
‘Where’s the unhappiness in that?’ protested Ralph. ‘Help of any kind will be happily received. If you have none to give, move out of our way while we continue our investigations.’
‘Forgive me, my lord. My comment was poorly phrased. What I meant was that I know why Owen was taken and where he is destined to go. It is that which causes my unhappiness, the fear that the boy will suffer the same fate as the others.’
‘Others?’
‘Siward and Dena?’ suggested Gervase. ‘The earlier novices.’
Abraham shook his head. ‘I know nothing of any other novices, Master Bret. I was talking about young boys who vanished from the Welsh commotes. Over the years, there have been far too many cases for them to be explained away as unfortunate accidents. Grieving parents have come to me for help and comfort too often. It is horrifying. I have preached many sermons against it.’‘Against what?’ said Ralph.
‘The slave trade.’
‘Abbot Serlo touched on that,’ recalled Gervase. ‘He confided to Canon Hubert that the disappearances from the abbey could be in some way connected with it.’
‘I am certain of it,’ said Abraham sadly, ‘because I have set myself to stamp out this hideous trade. It is barbaric. I have written both to Archbishop Lanfranc and to Bishop Wulfstan because I know that they, too, are waging a war against these vile men.’
‘How does this trade operate?’
‘Cunningly, Master Bret.’
‘But where are the boys taken?’
‘To Bristol. They are then shipped to Ireland where they are sold for high prices. It is blood money. I have raised the alarm in the Welsh commotes and everyone has been on their guard. No abductions have been reported for some time. I began to hope that the trade was dying out but I am clearly wrong. They are looking elsewhere for their victims,’ he said incredulously. ‘Even inside the Abbey of St Peter!’
‘What you have told us is very useful,’ conceded Ralph. ‘How would the boys be taken to Bristol? Overland?’
‘No, my lord. That would be too risky even at night. I believe that they are hidden aboard boats which sail downriver to Bristol.
They are then transferred to a larger vessel which heads for Ireland.’
‘Has no effort been made to reclaim them?’
‘None that has met with any success. We have no friends across the water. The Irish Vikings would never admit that they had bought slaves from here, still less hand them tamely back on request. I know of one distraught father from Archenfield who took to a ship himself to search for his two lost sons in Ireland.’
‘What happened to him?’
‘He never returned.’
‘Is no check put on this trade at Bristol?’
‘Yes, my lord,’ said Abraham, ‘but the slave traders are devious men. Whether by bribes or by guile, they’ll find a way to smuggle their cargo out somehow. That is why we must stop it at source by catching the perpetrators of this outrage.’
The Archdeacon of Gwent had regained much of his eloquence and controlled passion. As he described the extent of the trade and his persistent efforts to eradicate it, Ralph gained a new respect for him. What he was hearing were vital new facts which pointed them in the direction they had to take next. Irritated by the Welshman’s arrival at first, he was now profoundly grateful for it.
‘We think the boy may still be in Gloucester,’ he said.
‘I doubt that, my lord.�
��
‘But I’ve alerted the sentries at the gates. They have instructions to stop and question everyone leaving the city. There is no way that Owen can be taken out by the man who abducted him.’
Abraham gave a melancholy smile. ‘If only that were true.’
The coracle looked far too small and flimsy to brave the treacherous waters of the River Severn. As it bobbed and spun, it described crazy patterns and seemed to be on the verge of sinking at any moment. But it was handled by an expert, seasoned by a lifetime as a fisherman and able to manoeuvre the craft in the most daunting conditions. Where others might have been alarmed by the sudden lurches and random twists, he treated them as if they were the gentle rocking of a cradle.
Owen did not share his confidence. Trussed up in the bottom of the coracle, he was covered by a blanket which was in turn covered by the morning’s liberal catch of fish. The boy was in terror, fearing for his life and wishing that he had never ventured out at night to pray beside the grave of his beloved Brother Nicholas. It was bad enough to be attacked, overpowered, tied up and dragged out of the safety of the abbey, but this new ordeal was unbearable. As the coracle was buffeted by the current into a bewildering series of circles and dips, Owen prayed that someone would remove the gag from his mouth.
He wanted to be sick.
‘You must let me help,’ implored Abraham the Priest. ‘Please, my lord.’
‘You have already been extremely helpful,’ said Ralph.
‘But I wish to join you in the hunt.’
‘That will not be necessary.’
‘Owen is not a member of your diocese,’ said Gervase quietly.
‘You have no responsibility for him.’
‘I have a responsibility for any child who falls victim to slave traders. It is my personal crusade. In any case,’ he said, looking from Gervase to Ralph, ‘a missing novice hardly falls within the sphere of your responsibility. You are relative intruders here.’
Ralph was terse. ‘Our assistance was sought by Abbot Serlo.’
‘I am glad that it was, my lord. But I am sure that the abbot would be just as eager to seek my help if he knew of my familiarity with this particular crime. Take me with you.’
‘No, Archdeacon.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because I say so.’
‘Do not be offended,’ said Gervase, trying to soothe him. ‘There is no personal animus here. We admire you for what you have done in trying to put a stop to this trade but we are more accustomed to following the trails of ruthless criminals. A murder is also involved here, remember. If and when we catch up with the killer, he is not likely to surrender without a fight. We cannot risk injury to you, Archdeacon.’
‘I would willingly take that risk.’
‘Out of the question,’ decided Ralph.
‘Besides,’ said Gervase with a polite smile, ‘until you met us, you had no idea that this second crime had taken place. Another errand brought you here, a serious one, I suspect, judging by the way it seemed to trouble your mind.’ Abraham gave a mild start.
‘Would you care to tell us what the problem is?’
‘Gervase, we cannot tarry,’ said Ralph. ‘This can wait.’
‘I think not, Ralph.’
‘It must. Owen’s fate must be averted.’
‘We can spare a few minutes. Unless I am mistaken, what we are about to hear is something of grave importance. Is that not true?’ he said, turning to the archdeacon. ‘Well?’
But the Welshman was caught up in a battle of loyalties once more, unable to speak yet horrified at the dire consequences of holding his tongue. Ralph became more restive. Seeing the archdeacon’s obvious distress, Gervase tried to ease him out of it by speaking to him in Welsh.
‘Why did you come to us?’ he asked.
‘Because I could not turn to the sheriff.’
‘The sheriff?’
‘Durand of Gloucester is not a man who inspires trust,’ said Abraham, ‘and he would be equally distrustful of me. If I took my warning to him, he would either refuse to believe a word I said or suspect me of being part of the plot.’
‘Plot?’
‘What on earth is he gabbling about, Gervase?’ asked Ralph.
Gervase ignored him. ‘What is this about a plot?’
‘Master Bret,’ began the other slowly, ‘I have only come to you after a great deal of agonised thought. Please understand my position. I feel it my duty to alert you to something but there is a strict limit to the amount of information I can give.’
‘In short, you need to protect someone.’
‘It is you who must organise the protection.’
‘Why?’
‘King William is in Gloucester.’
‘So?’
‘He is in danger.’
‘The King is always in danger. He lives under constant threat.’
‘I talk of particular danger,’ said Abraham, wanting to convey urgency without providing too much detail. ‘Let us just say that news has come to my ears of an attempt on his life.’
Gervase tensed. ‘When? Where?’
‘Soon, Master Bret. At the castle.’
‘But he is surrounded by guards.’
‘The assassin will find ways to circumvent them.’
‘Assassin. We are talking about one man?’
‘I believe so.’
‘Who is he?’
‘I have told you all I can.’
‘But you obviously know who he is.’
‘Master Bret, I told you. There is a strict limit.’
‘In other words, though you wish this assassination attempt to be thwarted, you will not reveal the assassin’s name.’
‘Questions of loyalty are entailed.’
‘That means he’s a fellow countryman.’
‘Warn the King. Insist that he takes additional precautions.’
Ralph was about to burst. ‘Will the pair of you stop jabbering away in that heathen tongue and tell me what on earth is going on!’
Gervase translated the gist of the archdeacon’s remarks. The effect on Ralph was immediate. He reached out to grab the Welshman’s arm.
‘This is some ruse,’ he accused. ‘You are trying to deceive us.’
‘No, my lord,’ said Abraham, gently detaching his arm. ‘I am bound to say that your manner disappoints me. I looked for understanding and you behave exactly as the sheriff would behave.’
‘Durand would have you tortured until he got at the truth.’
‘I have told you the truth. A plot is being devised.’
‘Then tell us the details.’
‘I don’t know them, my lord. I swear.’
‘But you are certain of its existence.’
‘I am. It pains me to admit this.’
‘Why did you bring this information?’
‘Because I will not stand by when murder is planned. Even if it is the murder of a foreign king who has inflicted so much untold misery on my country. If steps are taken, this assassination can be prevented.’
‘It will be in any case,’ promised Ralph, ‘as so many other attempts have been prevented before. What can one man do against a whole garrison? Only a mad Welshman would conceive such a wild scheme.’ He fixed Abraham with a stare. ‘What is his name?’
‘Do not ask me, my lord.’
‘We need to know.’
‘Why? It will mean nothing to you.’
‘Even contemplating the assassination of the King is a serious offence. The man must be apprehended at once. You spoke earlier about eliminating the slave trade at source by arresting those involved in it. Give us a name and we can stop this crime at source as well.’ Abraham shook his head. ‘You are withholding evidence from us.’
‘I think that the archdeacon has shown bravery in coming to us in the first place,’ said Gervase, taking a softer approach. ‘He has faith in us, Ralph, and we must show a like faith in him. We must pass on the message to the castle. There is no need to say where it came
from.’
‘Then what are we to say, Gervase?’
‘A warning came to us from an anonymous informer.’ He looked at their companion. ‘A warning which was only given after an immense amount of thought and recrimination.’
‘I have been in torment,’ confessed Abraham. ‘There is no way out of this dilemma. Whatever I do will tax my conscience hereafter. If I remain silent and the assassination takes place, I could never forgive myself. But in revealing the very existence of the plot, I have to betray someone I hold dear and who may pay for my betrayal with his life.’
‘No doubt of that!’ said Ralph.
‘Alert the King.’
‘What will you do?’ wondered Gervase.
‘Pray that this whole business ends without bloodshed.’
‘Not if I have anything to do with it,’ said Ralph.
‘Our task is to search for Owen,’ said Gervase.
‘Take me with you,’ pleaded the archdeacon.
‘If we do, it will only be to hand you over to the sheriff.’ Ralph swiftly repented. ‘No, that will serve nothing. Gervase is right. If they double the guard there is no way that any assassin would be able to get near the King. But there is another question you must answer and I’ll take no more prevarication. I believe that you were first engaged in this plot then lost your nerve to see it through.’
Abraham was vehement. ‘No, my lord!’
‘You sought to help this assassin.’
‘I resisted him. I’m a man of peace.’
‘Then why were you lurking outside the castle on the night the King arrived?’ Abraham swallowed hard. ‘Do not deny it. I saw you with my own eyes. If you were not spying on behalf of your friend, what were you doing, Archdeacon?’
‘I was curious.’
‘Curious to see how large an escort he had? Curious to study the castle’s fortifications? Curious to find out every detail which might be of value to an assassin?’
‘My lord!’ protested the other.
‘How did you even know that the King was coming here?’
‘By complete chance. I witnessed the sudden activity around the castle. It was clearly being victualled for important visitors.’
‘They did not have to include King William.’
‘I spoke to one of the butchers who delivered carcasses of beef to the castle. He overheard the guards talking about a royal visit.
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