The Elephants of Norwich

by Edward Marston

  ‘I should have been told,’ said the sacristan, flapping his arms like a black swan struggling to take flight. ‘I could have given you a proper welcome. Come. Let us talk.’

  He led the guest into the vestry and offered him a seat. Vavasour preferred to stand, making it clear that it was not a social visit. An outbreak of guilt sent Brother Joseph into a paroxysm of apologies.

  ‘I don’t blame you,’ said Vavasour, silencing him with a soft touch on his shoulder. ‘You couldn’t stand guard over those elephants twentyfour hours a day, Brother Joseph. What I wish to hear, from your own lips, is what actually happened.’

  The sacristan composed himself before relating details that caused him the utmost distress. Interweaving his account with more apology, he explained how they had no choice but to conclude that the traveller who stayed the night there had been the thief. Vavasour pressed him for a description of the man then shook his head.

  ‘Your guest was lying to you, Brother Joseph. I’ve met this Starculf and he’s not the man you just described to me. Someone was using his name as a convenient disguise.’

  ‘Who would do that?’

  ‘I don’t know, but I intend to find out.’

  ‘We were so dismayed that your precious gift went astray, Jocelyn. It grieves me more than I can say. My only consolation is that the lord sheriff is now aware of our loss. He sent a man called Ralph Delchard to the abbey.’

  ‘I’ve met the lord Ralph. He seems honest and capable.’

  ‘He assured me that the treasures would be found and returned.’

  Vavasour was emphatic. ‘I’ll make sure that they are, Brother Joseph. Nothing else would have torn me away from my little hut in the marshes.’ A distant smile showed through the beard. ‘I’m very happy there. It’s home and church to me.’

  ‘Abbot Alfwold will be delighted to see you.’

  ‘I’ll not be able to stay long. My search will begin early.’

  ‘Where will you go?’

  ‘Everywhere.’

  ‘But the lord sheriff and his men have searched in vain so far.’

  ‘I know people and places that they may have overlooked.’

  ‘Those elephants of yours have brought us such joy,’ said the sacristan, eyes moist with sadness. ‘It’s remarkable that something so small can occupy so large a place in our hearts. It’s not their value as gold pieces. It’s what they represent.’

  ‘The penance of a sinful man.’

  ‘Your pilgrimage to Rome purified you, Jocelyn.’

  ‘Not completely,’ sighed the other, ‘but I have a second chance of redemption now. If I can recover those little elephants and return them to the abbey, I hope that God will forgive my past misdeeds and offer me His succour. This isn’t simply a search for missing property, Brother Joseph,’ he declared. ‘It’s a mission.’

  It was a dry morning but dark clouds obscured the sun and held the threat of rain. As he rode through the outer edges of the estate, Ralph Delchard looked up at the sky.

  ‘I hope that we’re not in for bad weather,’ he sighed. ‘Gervase and Golde have a long ride ahead of them this morning. They’ll be soaked to the skin.’

  ‘It may hold off,’ said Eustace Coureton. ‘If it doesn’t, we’ll get wet as well. It would be a great pity if two royal commissioners turn up at the lady Adelaide’s door looking like a pair of drowned rats. She’d refuse to admit us.’

  ‘She’s far too gracious to turn us away, Eustace.’

  ‘How gracious will she be when she has heard what we have to say?’

  Ralph grinned. ‘It’ll be interesting to find out.’

  With four men by way of an escort, they rode at a brisk trot so that they could take stock of the land through which they were passing. Dispensing with their hauberks for such a relatively short journey, they wore bright tunics under their mantles. Verdant pasture stretched out to their left, dotted with hundreds of sheep who were in skittish mood. Harvesting was taking place in the fields to their right, the men so busy with their scythes and sickles that they did not even raise their heads to look at the passing riders.

  The two commissioners continued on their way until the house finally came into view. Ralph emitted a whistle of admiration. ‘Now I can see what Golde meant when she said that it was magnificent.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Coureton. ‘Rather more so than the anchorite’s hut.’

  ‘That had a certain charm,’ observed Ralph with light sarcasm. ‘Not that it worked on me, I hasten to say.’

  ‘Doesn’t self-denial have any attraction for you?’

  ‘Only when it’s practised by someone else.’

  ‘I don’t think you’ll find the lady Adelaide is an example of it.’

  ‘I agree. At heart, I fancy that she’s something of a sybarite.’

  When they got closer, servants come out to take charge of their horses while they went inside. Concealing her surprise at their sudden arrival, the lady Adelaide welcomed them into the parlour as if they were expected guests. They were offered seats and refreshment soon arrived. The conversation had a neutral tone to it at first.

  The lady Adelaide occupied a chair that was built like a small throne. ‘I was so pleased that your wife could visit me yesterday, my lord,’ she said.

  ‘Yes,’ replied Ralph. ‘Golde had a very enjoyable time.’

  ‘I’m glad to hear that.’

  ‘She was impressed with your lovely house but even more impressed with you.’

  ‘Indeed?’ said the other with a self-deprecating laugh. ‘There was no reason.’

  ‘It was kind of you to invite her and Alys to call on you.’

  ‘I wanted to be able to speak to them both at leisure. It was a pleasure to get to know them a little better and, indirectly, to learn more about you and your colleague, my lord. You’re honoured guests in Norwich.’

  ‘Even though we came at an awkward time?’ asked Coureton.

  ‘A grisly murder is hardly a cordial welcome,’ she agreed, quietly.

  ‘That’s what brought us here today,’ said Ralph, becoming serious. ‘The murder and the crime that preceded it. I understand that you were present in the lord Richard’s house when those gold elephants disappeared?’

  ‘Yes, my lord. It was a great shock to both of us.’

  ‘Did you know where the gift actually came from?’

  ‘Somewhere abroad,’ she said. ‘The lord Richard brought them back when he returned from Normandy. They were exquisite.’

  ‘So we’re given to understand.’

  ‘I’m surprised that anyone was ready to part with them.’

  ‘They weren’t, my lady,’ said Ralph, choosing his words. ‘The lord Richard was correct to say that they came from abroad. The objects were made in Venice and sold in Rome before being presented to the abbey of St Benet at Holme.’

  She was astonished. ‘That can’t be true.’

  ‘I had the story from the abbot himself, my lady. Yesterday, we met the men who actually offered the elephants to the abbey as a gift. His name is Jocelyn Vavasour.’

  ‘The lord Jocelyn?’

  ‘He’s forfeited his lands and become an anchorite.’

  ‘I know. It caused us great amazement.’

  ‘Why was that?’

  ‘Jocelyn Vavasour was hardly the most devout Christian, my lord. He was only happy when he was fighting a battle or laying a siege. My husband and I entertained him here more than once. He was a strange, restless, uneasy guest. I heard tales about his going to Rome but I had no idea that he brought back a gift for the abbey.’ A thought made her sit up. ‘Is the lord Richard aware of this?’

  ‘He is now, my lady.’

  ‘I understood that he bought those elephants abroad.’

  ‘He may very well have done so,’ said Ralph, careful not to tell her too much. ‘He obviously didn’t realise that what he acquired in good faith was, in fact, stolen property.’

  ‘I see.’

  She retained her compos
ure but her mind was racing. Profound disappointment surged inside her. The gold elephants she coveted might never be hers now. If they were taken from the abbey, they would have to be returned there. Anger soon followed. The wedding gift that was dangled in front of her was no more than the booty from a monastic house and she sensed that her suitor must have known that. What remaining appeal the lord Richard still had now withered swiftly away. Curiosity soon took over. Mauger Livarot had given a pledge to recover the objects for her. Was he trying to buy her affection with stolen goods or was he unaware of their true origin? If ignorant, would he still continue his search when he knew the facts of the case? In the space of a few seconds, her attitude to both of her wooers underwent a transformation.

  ‘How well did you know the lord Richard’s steward?’ asked Ralph.

  ‘His steward?’ She came out of her reverie. ‘Quite well, my lord. It was Hermer who brought the wedding gift in on a platter.’ She pursed her lips and shook her head. ‘It was the last time that I saw him alive.’

  ‘How would you describe him?’

  ‘He was a conscientious man who did his job well. The lord Richard wouldn’t have employed him in the office otherwise. He had complete faith in Hermer.’

  ‘Until the man’s corpse turned up, that is,’ said Coureton. ‘He lost all faith in his steward then, my lady, and accused him of stealing the elephants from him. I think he’s learned that Hermer was innocent of that crime.’

  ‘If not, perhaps, of others,’ resumed Ralph. ‘What about his assistant, my lady?’

  ‘Starculf?’

  ‘I believe that you recommended him to the lord Richard.’

  ‘That’s true,’ she said, airily. ‘I’d no use for the man’s skills after my husband died. I don’t hunt myself and I knew that Richard de Fontenel was looking for a new falconer so I put in a word for Starculf.’

  ‘Was he a good man?’

  ‘My husband always found him so. Strong, reliable and intelligent.’

  ‘He must have given sterling service if he was promoted by the lord Richard.’

  ‘Yes, my lord.’

  ‘And yet he was dismissed soon after.’

  ‘I was sorry to hear that.’

  ‘Do you know what caused the rift with Hermer?’

  ‘No, my lord. It was none of my business. Why should it be?’

  ‘Because it was you who recommended Starculf in the first place,’ said Ralph, noting the way her hands had tightened slightly in her lap. ‘I would have thought you’d show some interest in his fate. Indeed, I’d expect the man to turn to you for help.’

  ‘I can assure you that he didn’t,’ she said briskly.

  ‘Even though you were probably the one person who might assist him?’

  ‘Starculf was my husband’s falconer, my lord. I hardly knew him.’

  ‘You knew him well enough to suggest his name to the lord Richard and he’s the sort of man who expects the highest standards from anyone in his service. I can’t believe that you’d recommend someone you hadn’t met and liked.’

  ‘I had met him,’ she admitted. ‘And I knew his pedigree.’

  ‘What of his character?’ said Coureton. ‘Was he a violent man?’

  ‘Not to my knowledge.’

  ‘Did you see any change in him when he worked with Hermer?’

  ‘Why are we talking about Starculf?’ she said with irritation. ‘He left the area some time ago, my lord, for reasons that are quite unconnected with me. I’ve no opinion to offer on the man beyond the fact that he served my husband well.’

  ‘Let’s go back to the two gold elephants,’ suggested Ralph. ‘Until we met Jocelyn the Anchorite, we couldn’t understand their appeal. Then he showed us some replicas he was carving out of driftwood. They were adorable creatures.’

  ‘Prime examples of a goldsmith’s art.’

  ‘And blessed by the Pope,’ said Ralph, piously. ‘Did we mention that?’

  ‘No, my lord.’

  ‘That’s why they were presented to the abbey. As holy objects.’

  She inhaled deeply before speaking. ‘I was quite unaware of that.’

  ‘I’m sure you were,’ he continued. ‘If you had not been, you’d have been horrified when the lord Richard offered them to you as a wedding gift. You’d have demanded that they be returned to the abbey immediately.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘I can’t imagine that you’d accept anything that bore the slightest taint.’

  ‘That’s quite right, my lord,’ she said, levelly. ‘I, too, have high standards.’

  Her manner had become condescending. Ralph resorted to bluntness. ‘High standards, my lady?’

  ‘Extremely high.’

  ‘Then why did you consider marriage to Richard de Fontenel?’

  The travellers were fortunate. Though the sky remained dark, only one shower actually broke out and they were able to shelter from it beneath the overhanging branches of a tree. When the rain eased off, they emerged to continue their journey with more urgency.

  Gervase Bret did not make the same mistake twice. The six men who escorted them were left a short distance away from the destination. Gervase and Golde proceeded on alone until they came to the circle of thatched huts. More inhabitants were visible this time. Skalp was trying to repair one of the derelict dwellings with the help of a much older man. A third man was hacking at a length of timber with his axe. Two small children were playing in the long grass. A young woman was weaving a basket. An older one was waddling off to feed the chickens. Everyone looked up as the strangers rode into the little encampment but there was less hostility this time. Ambling forward towards them, Skalp showed more curiosity than antagonism.

  ‘Why’ve you come back?’ he asked.

  ‘To see Olova again,’ said Gervase.

  ‘We can’t help you.’

  ‘You can if you try, Skalp.’

  The young Saxon indicated Golde. ‘Who’s this?’

  ‘A friend of mine.’

  ‘Why have you brought her?’

  ‘Come with us and you’ll find out,’ said Gervase, easily. ‘You can sit in Olova’s hut with us this time. There’s no need to lurk outside to listen.’

  Skalp’s eyes flashed but he bit back a comment. He followed them across to the largest of the huts. Gervase dismounted and helped Golde down from the saddle. On his advice, she was not wearing the fine apparel that befitted the wife of a Norman lord but had chosen more homespun garments, comfortable for the journey and reminiscent of the clothing she had worn when she lived in Hereford. Olova stepped outside to give them a wary greeting and to be introduced to Golde. The visitors were invited into her hut. When Skalp tried to follow, a nod from his grandmother sent him back to his work. Inside the musty hut, the guests were waved to seats.

  Olova settled into her own chair and gave them a stern warning. ‘I hope that you’ve not come to insult me as well, Master Bret.’

  ‘Insult you?’

  ‘That’s what my other visitor did.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘Not long ago. If you’d come earlier, you’d have caught him here.’

  ‘Did he give a name?’

  ‘Jocelyn the Anchorite,’ she said, chewing on bare gums. ‘I think that’s what it was. He didn’t speak our language as well as you.’

  ‘It’s my language as well.’

  ‘And mine,’ added Golde. ‘How did this man insult you?’

  ‘He told us about a theft from the abbey,’ said Olova.

  ‘I tried to do that myself,’ Gervase reminded her, ‘but you wouldn’t listen to me.’

  ‘I wouldn’t listen to this man and it made him very angry. I thought that an anchorite was a man of peace but this one had more of a warrior about him. When I wouldn’t tell him what he wanted, he more or less accused me of having taken those holy objects myself. That was an insult. I may loathe the abbey for the way it treated me but I’d never steal property from consecrated ground.’

&nb
sp; ‘I’m sure that you wouldn’t.’

  ‘We’re God-fearing people, Master Bret. We’re not thieves like the Normans.’

  ‘Not all Normans steal,’ said Golde.

  ‘Some of them stole our land, that’s all I know. I told that to the anchorite.’

  ‘What was his reply?’

  ‘That he was ashamed of his own part in the pillaging. He’d been a Norman lord himself and grabbed his share of property along with all the other vultures. At least, he had the grace to say that it was unjust. I admired him for that.’ Her voice darkened. ‘But I won’t forgive him for insulting me like that.’

  ‘Why did he come to you in the first place?’ said Gervase.

  ‘He was looking for the man that you mentioned.’

  ‘Starculf?’

  ‘The anchorite had heard rumours that he’d been seen in this area.’

  ‘And has he?’

  ‘Not that I know, Master Bret. It’s more likely that someone was up to mischief when they sent the Norman here. We have enemies. This is the kind of thing they do. I don’t believe that Starculf is within a hundred miles of here.’

  ‘Jocelyn is after the wrong man.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘Starculf didn’t steal those treasures from the abbey.’

  ‘Then who did?’

  ‘Hermer the Steward.’

  A look of sheer contempt came into her eye but she said nothing. Gervase nudged Golde. On the journey from Norwich, they had already discussed how to approach the old woman. Golde gave a sympathetic smile and leaned forward.

  ‘I can understand how you feel,’ she said with quiet sincerity. ‘My father was a thegn in Herefordshire with five manors to his name. We lost them all. I was married off to a brewer. It wasn’t what my father had hoped for me. He died a bitter and disappointed man.’

  ‘My husband didn’t live to see the worst of it. I thank God for that.’

  ‘We can’t change the past, I’m afraid. We just have to accept it.’

  ‘You might do that but I won’t. I’ll fight to get some of my land back.’

  ‘You’re perfectly entitled to do that,’ Gervase put in.

  ‘But that’s not what brought us here,’ resumed Golde. ‘You know that Hermer was killed and I can see why you shed no tears at his passing, but even the murder of a bad man must be paid for, Olova. The taking of life is a crime.’