The Foxes of Warwick

Chapter Thirteen

On the way back to the castle, Warin the Forester became more talkative. Aware of the dire predicament he was in and unable to deceive Ralph Delchard with a mixture of half-truths and lies, he fell back on complete honesty as a last resort. Ralph was quick to exploit the man’s change of attitude. By the time they reached Warwick, he had gleaned some new and important facts.

Any hopes which the forester had that his willing co-operation might help to extenuate his punishment were dashed as soon as they entered the castle. He was handed over to the guard and taken off to the dungeons to be kept in custody until the return of Henry Beaumont. Ralph had no sympathy for the man. In his view, Warin’s crime was unforgivable. When he found his wife, Ralph told her why.

‘The forester knew, Golde,’ he said.

‘Knew what?’

‘That Boio was not seen by Grimketel near the place where the dead body lay. Grimketel was nowhere near the spot himself at dawn. He and Warin were too busy poaching deer.’

‘Warin admitted that?’

‘With a little persuasion from me.’

‘But will he swear as much under oath?’

‘Certainly.’

‘Then Boio is saved.’

‘Not yet, my love.’

‘But you have two witnesses who will speak in his favour now,’

she argued. ‘The old man with the donkey and this forester.

Grimketel lied to incriminate the blacksmith. Who put him up to that?’

‘Adam Reynard.’

‘Why?’

‘It was another way to get at Thorkell. They are rival claimants for a large tract of land. Adam Reynard would do anything to upset the old Saxon. Boio was Thorkell’s man. If he was hanged for murder, Thorkell would bear the taint. Nor would his mind likely be wholly on the legal dispute.’ Ralph heaved a sigh. ‘To lose his reeve at such a time was a big enough blow. This second one must have sent Thorkell reeling. No overlord wants to have a murderer in his camp. Much less a man he had placed so much faith in.’

‘But the blacksmith is innocent.’

‘Few would believe that if he is convicted and hanged.’

‘Your new evidence will rescue him.’

‘That will depend on the lord Henry,’ said Ralph. ‘I will wait to hear Gervase’s news first before I ride hard to Coventry to intercede on Boio’s behalf. We will just have to pray that he is still alive.’

‘He has been granted right of sanctuary.’

‘The lord Henry may not choose to respect that right.’

Golde was disturbed. ‘Would he take the blacksmith by force?’

‘I think that he might stop short of that, Golde. But he is not alone, remember. The lord Philippe is at his elbow and hot blood runs in that man’s veins, as I have discovered. Our host might not violate sanctuary,’ said Ralph, ‘but our esteemed colleague certainly will.’

‘Storm an abbey? That would be sacrilege.’

‘When the lord Philippe wants something, he will let nothing stand in his way until he gets it. How do you imagine he got that wife?’

‘Too true!’ murmured Golde, recalling the earlier disclosures by Marguerite. ‘But to come back to Boio, his innocence means that someone else is guilty of the murder. Who is it?’

‘I am still not sure,’ said Ralph. ‘When I met Warin, I thought that he might be the culprit. He is big and powerful as I know to my cost.’ He rubbed his back where a painful bruise was surely flowering even now.

‘Your cost?’

‘I wrestled with the man to test his strength. He threw me with ease. If he had no resistance, the forester might have broken Martin Reynard’s back. That is what I thought at first, anyhow.’

‘But not now?’

‘No, Golde.’

‘What changed your mind?’

‘Warin’s confession,’ he said. ‘No priest has ever shrived a man so thoroughly. The words poured out of him in a torrent. He and Grimketel poached together for years at Adam Reynard’s behest and the forester admitted to a dozen smaller crimes as well.’

‘But not the murder?’

‘He did not commit it.’

‘Then who did?’

‘I still have my suspicions about Ursa.’

‘The performing bear you told me about?’

‘It could have been him,’ said Ralph thoughtfully. ‘If Benedict is wrong about the time of death then it could easily have been Ursa who crushed the reeve to death in the forest. There is only one problem.’

‘What is that?’

‘I cannot imagine what Martin Reynard was doing at such an isolated spot at that time of the morning. Unless a tryst is involved here.’ He shook his head. ‘No, the cold would have frozen even his ardour.’ Ralph gave a chuckle, then hugged her. ‘But enough of my news. What has been happening here while I have gone?’

‘I too have been hearing a full confession.’

‘From the lady Adela?’ he teased. ‘Was she the woman who arranged to meet the reeve in the forest that morning?’

‘No, Ralph. It was not she who spoke but the lady Marguerite.’

‘Tell me more.’

They were in their chamber and moved to sit on the bed together.

When Golde told him what she had heard, he nodded with interest throughout. The revelations about Philippe Trouville only served to confirm his own judgement.

‘Is that what his wife actually said, Golde?’

‘Yes, Ralph. That he was given to outbursts of violence.’

‘The man has a blood lust. Look how eager he was to join in the hunt for Boio. Nothing would have pleased him more than to be able to spear the man to death like a wild boar.’

‘The lord Philippe is an ogre.’

‘Yet you say that his wife was pining for him?’

‘She was complaining about being neglected,’ said Golde, ‘but that is not the same thing. The lady Marguerite also told us that she missed her husband when he was not there yet found him very disagreeable when he was.’

‘And what about you, my love?’

‘Me?’

‘Did you feel neglected as well?’ he said, kissing her on the cheek.

‘I bore it with more patience.’

‘Patience brings its own reward.’

‘That is what I was hoping.’

‘I am here to prove it.’

He grinned broadly and pulled her into a warm embrace but it was short-lived. There was a tap on the door. Ralph got up to admit Gervase to the room. Fresh from his visit to Roundshill, he had little to tell and was more eager to hear their news. Golde repeated what she had learned from the lady Marguerite and Ralph told his friend about his visit to the forest. It was time to make plans.

‘We must ride to Coventry at once with this new intelligence,’

said Ralph. ‘And I have some pertinent questions to put to the lord Philippe.’

‘Put them alone,’ said Gervase. ‘I have other business.’

‘With whom?’

‘Thorkell of Warwick.’

‘Tell him what we suspect about his reeve.’

‘I will, Ralph, but he will also want to hear what has happened to Boio. The man may have sanctuary but I am sure that the lord Henry is beating at the abbey gate. Thorkell may well decide to go to Coventry himself to make certain that right of sanctuary is not violated.’

‘Will you come with him?’

‘No,’ said Gervase. ‘I must go back to Roundshill.’

‘But you told us that Asmoth would not say anything.’

‘She would not say anything to me but someone else might coax the truth out of her. Asmoth knows the blacksmith better than anyone. They talked at great length yesterday. What he told her may well help to save him if only she would realise it,’ said Gervase, ‘but she does not trust me enough. I frightened her.’

‘Is there any point in going back to her again?’ said Ralph.

‘That depends on you.’

‘Me?’

‘I need to ask a favour of you.’

‘It is granted before it is asked,’ said Ralph expansively.

‘Whatever I have is yours, Gervase. You know that. Just name it.’Gervase smiled and turned to look at Golde.

‘How would you like to take a ride into the country?’ he said.

Henry Beaumont always preferred action over restraint but even he found Philippe Trouville’s advice too wild to consider. It took him a long time to calm his guest down and to acquaint him with the dictates of reason. Trouville seemed to enjoy violence for its own sake. In his febrile mind, the gate of an abbey was no different from any of the castle gates in Normandy which he had stormed in younger days when enemies had been foolish enough to defy him. Henry had no doubt that his companion would set fire to the abbey sooner than let Boio escape his clutches.

‘This is my dispute and not yours,’ Henry said.

‘I am only trying to help, my lord.’

‘I know and I appreciate that help but it must be kept within the bounds of the law. Take the prisoner by force and the consequences would be horrendous.’

‘I care nothing for consequences,’ said Trouville.

‘Do you not fear excommunication?’

‘No, my lord.’

‘That is the least we would suffer,’ said Henry. ‘Bishop Robert and the abbot would run squealing to Canterbury and we would have the whole Church coming down on our necks. I have met Archbishop Lanfranc. He is not a man to offend.’

‘Neither am I,’ muttered Trouville.

‘You are too intemperate.’

‘I find that it gets results.’

Henry was beginning to doubt the wisdom of allowing Trouville to become involved in the pursuit of the fugitive. When the latter had made the offer to ride to Coventry the previous night in order to maintain a watch on the abbey, his host had been very grateful but that gratitude was now tinged with regret. Philippe Trouville was too accustomed to being in command himself to accept orders easily. He did not so much offer counsel as thrust it forcibly at Henry. In seeking to uphold the law, the man did not seem to feel the need to act wholly within it.

‘Send to Brinklow Castle, my lord,’ said Trouville. ‘Your brother, the sheriff, may well have returned home by now. Send to him.’

‘Why?’

‘Summon additional men from your brother.’

‘We have enough to put a ring of steel around the abbey.’

‘Faced with a whole army, the bishop might capitulate. Come, we are both well versed in the arts of siege warfare. The best way to bring an enemy to his knees is to frighten him with a display of strength. If they see that they have the Count of Meulan and the constable of Warwick Castle to deal with, the bishop and the abbot may come to their senses.’

‘My brother will not be called,’ said Henry firmly.

‘Why not?’

‘Because he and I are of the same mind.’

‘You would let this monkish rabble defy you?’

‘I will bide my time. My brother would do likewise.’

‘Do not let the abbey win this battle, my lord.’

‘It is not a battle. Merely a set of negotiations.’

‘Then negotiate from strength.’

‘The Church has moral right on its side.’

‘You have swords and lances.’

Henry was firm. ‘They will not be used.’

‘Then try a more cunning way,’ said Trouville, determined not to balk. ‘Ask for private conference with the bishop. Gain us admission to the abbey, just you and me. Engage the bishop in parley. While you and he debate, I will slip away and find where they have hidden Boio, then I will spirit him out of the building before they can stop me.’ He bared his teeth in a wolfish grin.

‘What do you think of my plan?’

‘I reject it out of hand.’

‘But why, my lord?’

Trouville’s annoyance was increased tenfold by a loud burst of laughter. His own men-at-arms seemed to be mocking him. He drew his sword and swung round to chastise them, only to realise that they were not laughing at him at all.

‘Look, my lord,’ said one of them, pointing. ‘A performing bear.’

Ursa and the dwarf were back in the marketplace.

It was a long ride to Thorkell’s manor house but Golde was glad to get away from the castle and from the uncomfortable friendship of the lady Marguerite. Four of Ralph’s men-at-arms accompanied her and Gervase while the remainder rode off to Coventry with their master. Gervase was hoping that Golde might find a way to draw confidences out of Asmoth but her value was shown as soon as they arrived at the house and met Thorkell of Warwick.

Hearing that she was the daughter of a dispossessed thegn, the old man treated her with immediate respect and invited both Golde and Gervase into his home.

The visitors went into the hall of the building, a room of generous proportions with a suspended floor made of thick oaken planks. A fire was crackling in the middle of the hall and smoke rose up towards the hole in the apex of the pitched roof. The whole house exuded a sense of wealth and Saxon tradition. Golde felt immediately at home. Thorkell waved them to seats but remained standing himself.

‘Why have you come?’ he asked.

‘To bring you news of Boio,’ said Gervase.

‘He has been captured?’

‘No, my lord.’

‘Thank God for that!’ said the other.

‘He went to the abbey and sought sanctuary. I thought that you would be glad to know that.’

‘I am, Master Bret. You have my thanks.’

‘There is more news that you should hear.’

Gervase told him about the evidence which Ralph extracted from Warin the Forester and how Grimketel’s crucial testimony against the blacksmith had been false. Thorkell was fascinated, taking particular pleasure from the news that Adam Reynard had been unmasked as a man who incited others to poach deer on his behalf. At a stroke, one of his rivals in the property dispute had been removed.

‘When the lord Henry learns of this,’ he said, ‘Adam Reynard will be lucky to hold on to his life, let alone his land. These are glad tidings. But how did Boio manage to get as far as Coventry without being seen? Can you tell me that?’

‘No, my lord,’ said Gervase discreetly, careful to make no mention of Asmoth. ‘The fact is that he is at the abbey and, I hope, quite safe for the moment. What concerns me is his future.’

‘But he will surely be exonerated?’

‘Will he?’

‘You have this forester’s word. Grimketel gave false evidence.

Boio is innocent of this murder. The real killer must be caught and brought to judgement. Martin’s death must be answered.’

‘That may not be enough to assuage the lord Henry’s fury. Boio escaped from his castle and outwitted all his pursuers. That still rankles. Even if no murder charge can be proved against the blacksmith and even if the real killer is caught, the lord Henry may well want to wreak his revenge in some way.’

‘That is true,’ said Thorkell.

‘It is another reason why we came to you, my lord,’ said Gervase.

‘To crave a boon on Boio’s behalf. He needs your help.’

‘Tell me what I must do,’ volunteered the other.

‘Ride to the abbey. Your presence may deter the lord Henry from any precipitate action. You might even be admitted to speak with Boio himself. That would bring him immense comfort.’

‘To me as well. I’ll do it.’

‘There is a larger favour to ask, my lord.’

‘Well?’

‘We must prepare for contingencies.’

‘I am used to doing that,’ said Thorkell with a wistful smile.

‘That is why I still have my home and my estates.’ He turned to Golde. ‘Your father was not so fortunate. He was stripped of his land.’

‘We survived,’ she said quietly.

‘But not in the way you deserved, my lady. I had the sense to come to composition with the Normans.’

‘I have done that myself now. I have married one of them.’

‘Your husband is a fortunate man. And a courageous one if he is ready to brave the lord Henry’s rage in order to help Boio. But,’ he said, turning back to Gervase, ‘what is this larger favour you ask?’

‘It is just a vague notion at this point.’

‘Go on.’

‘Whatever happens,’ said Gervase, ‘it may not be wise for Boio to remain in Warwickshire. He must get away from here and start a new life somewhere else. A blacksmith’s skills are always in demand.’

‘Say no more,’ interrupted Thorkell. ‘I anticipate you. My answer is that I do have friends in distant counties who would give Boio a welcome if he bore a letter from me. And I would willingly write it.’‘Thank you, my lord.’

‘But how would we get Boio away?’

‘Golde’s husband has promised to look into that.’

‘Then this is what I will do,’ said Thorkell. ‘Write a letter then ride to Coventry to ensure that the lord Henry does not violate the rules of sanctuary. A spare horse will travel with us. If it is necessary to smuggle Boio away, horse and letter may guarantee him a future life.’

‘He could ask no more from you, my lord.’

‘Nor I from you, Master Bret. You have been a true friend.’

‘There is one last thing I must tell you in the name of friendship.’

‘What is it?’

‘Brace yourself,’ said Gervase, ‘for it may come as an unpleasant shock. Thanks to Golde, we have learned enough about your reeve to make certain deductions.’

‘Deductions?’

‘I fear Martin Reynard was betraying you.’

‘Never! He was diligent in my service.’

‘But even more diligent in the pay of the lord Henry.’

‘Martin was thrown out of the castle in disgrace.’

‘That was merely a ruse,’ explained Gervase. ‘It convinced you that he was available for hire at a time when your own reeve had died. Did not that seem an odd coincidence? Finding a new man so soon after losing his predecessor? Yes,’ said Gervase, seeing Thorkell’s disbelief, ‘I know that you will hate to accept that you were beguiled. But answer me this, my lord. When he worked for you did the reeve ever go back to the castle?’

‘Never! He swore that he loathed the place.’

‘Golde may tell you differently.’

‘I had it from the lips of the lady Adela herself,’ she confirmed.

‘Martin Reynard went back to the castle quite regularly. She saw your reeve with her husband long after he had been dismissed.’

Thorkell was stung by the news. The realisation that he might have been duped made him so angry that he stamped up and down the hall and cursed himself under his breath for his gullibility. He stopped in front of Gervase and spoke with an edge of despair in his voice.

‘Tell me that it is not true!’

‘We see no other explanation.’

‘Martin Reynard! But I trusted the man.’

‘That is why he was placed here,’ argued Gervase, ‘as a spy in your camp. He learned every detail about the administration of your lands and the extent of your wealth. I fear that we both know why the lord Henry was so eager to have such intelligence.’

Thorkell hung his head. ‘Your holdings are secure as long as you live, my lord. But who will inherit them when Thorkell of Warwick passes away?’

Thorkell looked up with gathering fury. His eyes kindled.

‘I wish that I had known Martin Reynard was a traitor,’ he said with bitterness. ‘I would have murdered the fellow myself!’

Still imprisoned in his cell, Huna was reflecting wryly on the vagaries of his occupation when he heard a scraping noise. He thought it might be a mouse in the straw or another rat nosing its way in through the drain hole until a low whistle took his gaze upward. A familiar face was framed in the barred window.

Huna got up at once and crossed the cell, wondering how anyone as small as the dwarf could reach such a high window. The explanation soon became clear when his friend started to bob and sway. The bearward was seated on the shoulders of his animal.

Their conversation was conducted in a series of whispers.

‘The guards would not let me in,’ said the dwarf, ‘so we sneaked around the back of the gaol. I have brought you food, Huna.’

‘God bless you!’ said the old man as bread was passed through to him. ‘But what has happened to my donkey?’

‘We have taken good care of him.’

‘Thank you.’

‘He is in the stable where all four of us spent the night.’

‘Fed and watered?’

‘Regularly. He is very happy but he misses his master.’

‘I may soon be let out to join him,’ said Huna hopefully. ‘They tell me that I am to appear before the bishop again but I do not believe he means to prosecute me. The boy whom I cured and his father will have spoken on my behalf. They will have assured him that no sorcery was involved.’

‘It was not. I was there myself.’

‘I think the bishop finds me too big a nuisance to keep here.

That is what usually happens when they arrest me. They push me around at first, then send me on my way with dire warnings.

But what is all that commotion I heard earlier? Did you have a lively audience?’

‘We did not,’ said the dwarf, ‘but your friend did.’

‘Friend?’

‘The one you told me about. Boio the Blacksmith.’

‘He has been given sanctuary at the abbey.’

‘Somebody wants him out, Huna. There are armed men all round it. They tell me that some of them had a violent argument with the bishop when he refused to let them in. What on earth did your friend do to stir up such an argument?’

‘He simply protested his innocence.’

‘Why does he need sanctuary if he committed no crime?’

‘Being innocent is a crime in this case,’ said Huna with a wry smile. ‘Boio made important people look like fools. They will not let him get away with that.’

‘What will become of him?’ asked the dwarf.

‘That depends on me.’

‘How can you help him?’

‘I do not know yet but I will devise a way. But what of you?’

‘We came to bid farewell, old man,’ said the other sadly. ‘Ursa and I will quit the town tomorrow.’

‘Where will I find you until then?’

‘In the stable with your donkey.’

‘Good,’ said Huna. ‘If they let me out, I may be able to show you another miracle and teach you the trick of it.’

‘I would love to learn it, Huna. What miracle will you perform?’

‘I will make a man walk through stone walls.’

The dwarf grinned in approval then let out a yell of pain as the bear tired of supporting him and turned mutinous, tossing his master uncaringly on to the ground before letting out a penitent whine and somersaulting around him in a vain bid to win back his favour.

It was well into the afternoon when Ralph and his men finally got to Coventry and they headed straight for the abbey. There was no sign of Philippe Trouville but Henry Beaumont was standing outside the gate of the abbey, conferring with the captain of his men-at-arms. Ralph noted that the soldiers were stationed at intervals around the whole building.

‘Call off the siege, my lord,’ he commanded, riding up.

‘Why?’ asked Henry.

‘Because you pursue an innocent man.’

‘Boio is a fugitive from justice.’

‘Not any more. Grimketel’s testimony was false. I can prove it.’

‘What witness will you call?’ said Henry cynically. ‘Some doddering old man who had his donkey shoed free?’

‘No, my lord. One of your own men.’

‘Mine?’

‘Warin the Forester.’

Ralph dismounted and told him of his encounter in the forest.

Henry would not believe him at first but the detail Ralph was able to give was too convincing and he was forced to accept it.

‘Warin will rot in my dungeon!’ he vowed. ‘With Adam Reynard alongside him. Nobody poaches my deer.’

‘There is a more heinous crime here as well.’

‘Is there?’

‘They were ready to stand back and watch Boio die for a murder that he did not commit. Grimketel was the main offender but these other two are accessories.’ Ralph gestured at the abbey. ‘Now will you call off the hounds and let Boio walk out of there a free man?’

‘No, I will not!’

‘But you must, my lord.’

‘Why?’

‘Because the blacksmith did not kill Martin Reynard.’

‘He escaped from my castle,’ said Henry sourly. ‘That is a crime in itself. And he injured one of my guards in doing so. That adds a charge of assault. Then there is the second death. Boio will stand trial for the murder of Grimketel.’

‘He could not possibly have killed him.’

‘You saw the evidence yourself.’

‘What I saw,’ said Ralph with slow deliberation, ‘was the lord Philippe kneeling over the body and telling me that Boio had just fled.’

‘That is exactly what happened.’

‘Then why could you not find him?’

‘He eluded us.’

‘He was never there, my lord. You must have spoken with the abbot or the bishop by now and, as I see, were given a dusty answer. Did they say what time Boio arrived here yesterday?’

‘Shortly before vespers.’

‘There is your proof,’ insisted Ralph. ‘Even with wings on his heels, Boio could not have run all the way from Grimketel’s house to the abbey in so short a time. It was a journey halfway across the county.’

‘He must have had a horse.’

‘The fastest mount would not have got him here in time for the vespers bell. Think hard, my lord. You know when Grimketel’s body was discovered because you sent the lord Philippe to his house to warn him.’

‘That is true,’ conceded the other.

‘At that point in time, Boio must already have been well on his way to Coventry. Even you must see that.’

Henry Beaumont tried hard to find a flaw in Ralph’s argument but he could not. He was reluctant to surrender the second charge of murder against the blacksmith and he groped around wildly for ways to implicate him somehow. At length he gave in. He saw that Boio could not have killed Grimketel. The face of a new suspect came into his mind.

‘Yes, my lord,’ said Ralph, reading his expression.

‘But why? He had no motive.’

‘Does a man like the lord Philippe need a motive? He is given to violent impulses. The lady Marguerite said as much to both our wives. Have you not noticed the rush of blood which comes to his face?’

Henry thought of the way that Trouville had run down the poacher in the forest and of his desire to raid an abbey in search of their prize. He was also enraged at the thought that they had searched so hard for Grimketel’s killer when he was actually alongside them. It threw him into a state of complete ambivalence.

He did not know whether to stay at the abbey or go in search of the man. Ralph made the decision for him.

‘Let me go, my lord,’ he offered. ‘Where is he?’

‘I sent him to call on my brother at Brinklow Castle. He has been anxious to make Robert’s acquaintance ever since he arrived in the county and I hoped that the ride out there would give the lord Philippe a chance to cool down.’

‘Cool down?’

‘He was all for reducing the abbey to ashes.’

Ralph pulled a face. ‘Leave him to me,’ he said.

Robert de Limesey’s irritation was rapidly approaching the point of outright frenzy and he did not want to let himself down in front of Brother Reginald. The bishop was making another doomed attempt to interrogate Huna and to break down the old man’s resistance until he readily confessed to witchcraft. Instead of that, Huna’s mind and tongue seemed to have been sharpened by his time in the gaol, a place from which he brought aromatic memories which assaulted the sensitive nostrils of the bishop so much that he had incense sprinkled in his chamber before the examination began.

‘Why do you lie to us?’ asked the bishop.

‘If you describe a truthful answer as a falsehood then we will get nowhere,’ said Huna. ‘I am what I am, as you well see.’

‘A sorcerer.’

‘Wherein does my sorcery lie, my lord bishop? I cured a sick boy. Doctors are curing their patients every day in this town.

Will you arrest them all and burn them at the stake?’

‘They are trained to use proper medicines.’

‘Why, so was I. My mother trained me. Proper medicines, as you call them, are made up of herbal compounds. So are my potions.’

‘You did not cure that boy with a potion.’

‘But I did,’ said Huna. ‘I used the most powerful medicine of all. Belief in God. You have seen as well as anyone what wonders it brings about. The whole of Christendom is a tribute to that belief. That was the only potion I used. A compound of faith and love.’

‘Saints preserve us! Will this fellow never stop?’

‘You charged me yesterday with aspiring to be like Jesus Christ,’

recalled Huna. ‘But I could never aspire to such goodness. Jesus could turn water to wine, walk on water and raise a man from the dead. I can do none of these things. My miracles are of a much lower order but they have a true Christian purpose. The man who came to me had faith, that is why he brought his son to be cured. He had faith in me and faith in God’s power to work through me.’ He beamed at them. ‘That is why his son was carried here from his home but was able to walk away, sound in body and mind.’

‘We have examined both father and son.’

‘Do they lay charges against me?’

‘No.’

‘Did they tell you that I used sorcery?’

‘They are too ignorant to know.’

‘Do you think I practise black arts?’

‘What Brother Reginald and I think is that you are either a clever trickster or a cunning sorcerer and we want neither of them in this town.’ Reginald nodded his agreement as his master’s vituperation poured out. ‘You are to leave Coventry by dawn tomorrow. If you are ever caught in this town again — or anywhere in my diocese of Lichfield — you will be tried for witchcraft without compunction. Is that clear? We will tie you to a stake and burn the evil out of you with holy flames.’ He rose to his feet and pointed to the door. ‘Now take yourself and your disgusting stink out of the abbey and leave Brother Reginald and me to deal with the much more important matter which occupies us at the moment.’

‘It occupies me as well,’ said Huna happily.

‘You?’

‘May I have permission to bid farewell to Boio?’

A storm was brewing and an already overcast sky began to darken.

When Thorkell and his men reached the abbey it took them a moment to pick Henry Beaumont out in the gathering gloom. The newcomers were not given a cordial welcome.

‘Whatever are you doing here?’ demanded Henry.

‘I came to see that Boio’s best interests are served.’

‘That can only be at the end of a rope.’

‘But he is no murderer,’ explained Thorkell. ‘Gervase Bret called at my house with valuable new evidence in Boio’s defence, garnered from one of your own foresters.’

‘I have heard it,’ said Henry peevishly.

‘Then why do you still stand vigil here, my lord?’

‘Because your blacksmith still has much to answer for.’

‘Such as?’

‘Wait until his trial.’

‘That may be a very long wait if he stays here for the full term of sanctuary,’ said Thorkell. ‘Are you prepared to stand out here in all weathers for the whole duration?’

‘We will drag him out of there soon.’

‘That is why I came, my lord. To safeguard his life.’

‘You are not wanted here.’

‘But I needed to speak with you on a related matter.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘Martin Reynard.’

‘The poor man lies dead and buried,’ said Henry sadly.

‘I am not surprised that you speak so kindly of him, my lord,’

said Thorkell with a knowing glint. ‘Though he was dismissed in apparent disgrace from your household, he never really left it, did he? I have reliable information to the effect that he paid regular visits to your castle while he was supposed to be working for me.’

‘Whoever told you that is lying!’ howled Henry.

‘I had it indirectly from your own wife, the lady Adela. You will surely not tell me that you are married to a liar.’

Henry bit his lip and turned away. Thorkell continued to bait him and his victim could do nothing but wince and bluster. A shout brought an end to their exchange. Both men looked towards the soldier who had called them but the man was already waving them back.

‘I was deceived, my lord!’ he shouted. ‘A false alarm!’

Henry looked past him and saw what he meant. Two figures had emerged from a side door to the abbey and were being gathered up by the darkness as they walked away. Henry was just in time to recognise the dwarf, leading his bear by a chain along the street. The sound of the bolts being drawn distracted him and he turned to see the abbey gate swinging open. Hoping to be offered an abject apology by the bishop and to have the fugitive delivered up to him, he was disappointed to see a shabby old man coming out of the building. The gate was shut behind the departing visitor and the bolts were put in place. Neither Henry nor Thorkell took any notice of the old man and they were unaware that he lurked nearby to watch them with curiosity.

Henry turned back without relish to face Thorkell’s questions again. Throbbing with indignation, the thegn would not let him off the hook.

‘Why did you do it, my lord?’ he asked. ‘It was not the action of a decent man. I know that you are not capable of graciousness but I thought you reasonably just until now. I took Martin Reynard into my service in good faith as my reeve. Why did you set him to spy on me?’ He jabbed a finger. ‘What did you get him to steal?’

Henry Beaumont was soon wallowing in embarrassment. He shifted uneasily in his saddle as the full extent of his reckoning was ruthlessly exposed by Thorkell.

Rain was beginning to spit as Ralph Delchard and his men rode towards Brinklow Castle. They did not have to make the full journey. Having established his credentials with the Count of Meulan, the eager Trouville wanted to get back to the abbey so that he did not miss out on any of the action.

Ralph saw the commissioner and his escort being conjured out of the darkness ahead of him. His own escort, swelled by the additional men whom Henry had sent, outnumbered the approaching riders. Ralph called a halt and they fanned out in a line.

Trouville was twenty yards away before he recognised them.

‘Well met, my lord!’ he called, raising a hand.

‘We heard that you visited Brinklow Castle.’

‘Only to pay my respects to the lord Henry’s brother. If I am to be Sheriff of Northamptonshire one day — as I have cause to expect — I want to be on friendly terms with everyone of importance in the neighbouring counties.’ He gave a complacent grin. ‘The Count of Meulan has just returned from Derbyshire. He and I got on well. We turned out to have much in common.’

‘Why?’ said Ralph. ‘Does he murder helpless victims as well?’

Trouville scowled. ‘Your jest is in very bad taste.’

‘So were your lies to me at Grimketel’s house.’

‘What lies?’

‘Boio did not kill that man.’

‘He did. The signs were obvious.’

‘Too obvious,’ said Ralph coldly. ‘Explain this, my lord. How did Boio manage to commit murder, evade a large posse and travel several miles to Coventry in order to be at the abbey before vespers? A bird would have had difficulty flying there in so short a space of time. Boio could not have killed Grimketel. Even the lord Henry accepts that.’

‘Then someone else did the deed,’ agreed Trouville, ignoring the implication in Ralph’s black stare. ‘We must go back to the house tomorrow to look for clues and organise a more careful search.’

Ralph looked at him with utter disgust and Trouville wilted.

‘The trail ends here, my lord.’

‘No!’ protested the other.

‘The lord Henry has sent me to arrest you in his name.’

‘You have no proof.’

‘We will get it from your men,’ said Ralph. ‘They will know if Grimketel was alive when you went to his house because his door would have been barred and you would have needed him to open it.’ He looked around Trouville’s escort. ‘I am sure you have sworn them to secrecy,’ he said, ‘but they may change their minds when they have to choose between telling the truth and submitting to the lord Henry’s torture. He is not a man who appreciates being deceived.’ He saw unease spreading across the men’s faces and signalled to his own escort. ‘Seize their weapons!’

Trouville’s men were quickly surrounded and disarmed but their lord did not wait to endure the same fate. Pulling savagely on the reins to turn his horse, he kicked it into a gallop and went off across the field. Ralph was after him at once before he disappeared completely into the darkness. Rain now began to fall in earnest, lashing their faces as they hurtled through open country. Trouville was a good horseman but his mount was no match for Ralph’s destrier, which slowly gained on him.

Ralph had no fear. He was younger, stronger and more skilled in the arts of combat than the other. He was also impelled by a deep rage that a fellow commissioner would stoop to murder.

Realising that he could not outrun his pursuer, the fugitive decided to fight instead and suddenly reined in his horse. Before he could draw his sword from its sheath, he was knocked bodily from the saddle as Ralph drew level and flung himself into the air. They landed with a thud on the ground. Trouville was winded but he still had the strength to punch and grapple. The two of them rolled over and over on grass that was quickly becoming sodden. With a massive effort, Trouville managed to throw Ralph off and got to his feet to run. Ralph caught him up immediately and they wrestled more violently than ever. With a deft move, Ralph used his adversary’s own weight against him and flung him to the ground again.

He straddled his chest and held a dagger to Trouville’s throat.

‘A forester taught me that fall,’ said Ralph, still panting.

‘Get off me!’

‘Not until you tell the truth.’

‘You heard it. I did not kill Grimketel.’

‘I fancy that your men will sing a different song.’

‘Look,’ pleaded Trouville, breathing stertorously, ‘we sit in commission together. I expect help from you. All that happened was this, I swear. When I got to the house, Grimketel was locked up inside. He let me in when he saw that I brought a warning and he begged me to leave men to guard him. He was terrified of Boio. When I refused to help him, he grabbed me and began to yell at me. I tried to push him off, that is all, the merest shove.

Then his head struck the floor.’

‘Tell the same lie to the lord Henry at your trial.’

‘If you help me, there will be no trial. Please, my lord. We can work out a story between us. What is the death of an insect like Grimketel? It is nothing. Forget it. I look to be a sheriff soon. I can be a valuable friend to you. Help me out of this situation and you can call on me for anything. What do you say?’

‘Good night, my lord!’

Ralph’s punch landed on his chin and knocked him senseless.

There was no sign of her when they reached Roundshill and neither her father nor her neighbours had any idea where Asmoth might be. Gervase and Golde searched the immediate vicinity, then gave up. They were about to head back towards Warwick when Gervase remembered the first time he had met the woman.

‘I know where she might be, Golde.’

‘Where?’

‘I will show you.’

The overhanging trees managed to shield them from most of the rain but they still got thoroughly wet before they reached the forge. A light was flickering in the half-dark. Someone had lit a fire.

Asmoth was there, sitting in the forge where she had sat so often to talk with Boio and simply enjoy his company. The flames gave her light but nothing like the surging warmth of the blacksmith’s fire when he made it roar. Lost in reverie, she did not hear the horses. When Gervase stepped in with Golde, Asmoth jumped up with a start. He calmed her and introduced his companion whose smile immediately helped to melt some of the woman’s reserve.

‘Is there any more word of Boio?’ said Asmoth.

‘He will be fine,’ Gervase assured her. ‘I have seen to that.’

‘The abbey will not hand him over to the lord Henry?’

‘No, Asmoth. We called on Thorkell of Warwick. He has gone to Coventry in person to make sure that no harm comes to his blacksmith.’

‘Does that mean Boio will come home?’

‘Probably not. Too much has happened.’

‘I know,’ said Asmoth, head drooping in resignation.

All three of them talked on but Gervase slowly dropped out of the conversation, leaving Golde to win the other woman over with her mixture of concern and soft questioning. It was a lengthy process. Every time that Asmoth got to the verge of a confession, she drew back out of fear. Golde did not hurry her. Complete trust had to be established before the truth came out. When she judged that the moment had arrived, Golde reached out to touch the woman’s arm.

‘You saved Boio’s life. Do you realise that?’ she said.

‘He would have done the same for me.’

‘I know. He loves you, Asmoth.’ The words brought a rare smile out of the woman. ‘What did he tell you? When you met him yesterday what did you talk about?’

‘Everything.’

‘Was he an honest man?’

‘Very honest.’

‘He held nothing back?’

‘No, my lady.’

‘What did he say?’ whispered Golde. ‘It will not get either of you into trouble, whatever it was. Boio is safe and nobody but a few of us know that you were the friend who helped him to escape.

But we, too, have laboured hard to help him, as you know. We have done all we can. We would like to think that we may be entitled to the truth.’ She looked into the woman’s eyes. ‘Are we?’

Asmoth gazed from one to the other, assailed by last-minute doubts yet clearly distressed by the burden of the knowledge she carried. She wrestled in silence for a long while before coming to a decision and blurting out her story. There was mingled guilt and pride in her voice.

‘Boio is my friend,’ she said. ‘When others laughed at me, he was kind. That is why I came here so often to see him. Boio liked me. He wanted me here. We told each other secrets.’ She winced at a memory. ‘Everything was fine until this man came along.’

‘What man?’

‘Was it Martin Reynard?’ guessed Gervase.

Asmoth nodded. ‘He treated Boio like dirt. He thought he was so stupid that he would not understand anything. This man was reeve to Thorkell but he came to the forge to meet someone from the castle. One of the men-at-arms. Boio could see who he was.

They used the forge because it was halfway between Thorkell’s manor house and the castle. Boio was always thrown out while they talked but he was not stupid, my lady. He could not understand them when they spoke French but he guessed what they were doing and he saw the reeve giving things to the man from the castle.’

‘What sort of things?’ asked Golde.

‘Documents?’ suggested Gervase.

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Boio did not know what to do. He was certain that the reeve was betraying Thorkell in some way but it was only his word against the other’s. And the man was clever. It upset Boio. It was not right, what the reeve was doing. Boio wanted to stop him but he did not know how. And then …’ She buried her face in both hands.

Golde slipped a consoling arm around her shoulders.

‘Take your time, Asmoth. There is no hurry.’

‘And then,’ resumed the girl through a sob, ‘something else happened with the man. The reeve was not very nice. He was cruel and hard. Everyone disliked him.’

‘Why was that? Did he bother them?’ Asmoth nodded. ‘Did he bother you as well?’ The woman nodded again and sobbed more loudly. ‘Did he do more than bother you?’

Asmoth could not look at them. Her eye remained on the fire.

‘I was bathing in the stream. The man came up behind me. He did not see my face or it would have turned him away as it turned away every other man but Boio. I know I am ugly; I have got used to it. But the reeve grabbed me from behind and dragged me into the bushes …’

They waited until she had cried her fill. Golde held her throughout and asked for no details. Gervase realised why the woman had been quite unable to confide in him earlier and felt uneasy at being there now. Golde helped her to dry her eyes.

‘Did you tell Boio?’

‘Not at first.’

‘But you did in the end?’

‘Yes.’

‘What did he do?’

‘He went to see the reeve. They had an argument. People overheard them. The man was angry because Boio had shown no respect. He got drunk that night and came to the forge to teach Boio a lesson. He brought a club. He hit Boio with it.’ She hunched her shoulders. ‘Boio had to defend himself. He struck out. The man taunted him about me and hit him harder. Boio took the club off him and they began to wrestle. The man was saying foul things and Boio just squeezed …’

There was a long pause. Golde glanced over at Gervase.

‘Did he carry the body to the forest that night?’ he asked.

‘Yes,’ said Asmoth.

‘Did he go back again next morning at dawn?’

‘No. Grimketel was lying.’

‘Did you know any of this when I came to the forge with Brother Benedict and you swore to us that Boio was innocent?’

‘He is innocent. He did not intend to kill anyone. He was forced to it.’

‘Did you know, Asmoth?’

‘No!’

‘Would you have helped him escape if you had?’

‘Yes!’ she said defiantly. ‘The man was horrible to me. Boio cared. The reeve goaded him about me. That was why Boio got angry.’ There was another pause. ‘He did not go looking for the man. The reeve came here to attack him. He only defended himself.’ A sudden fear engulfed her and made her shake all over. ‘You will not turn him over to the lord Henry, will you?

Please! Please!’

‘No,’ said Gervase gently, ‘I think that he has already suffered enough for what he did. He was imprisoned and tortured before he escaped. Then he was hounded across the county like a wild animal before he threw himself on the mercy of the abbey.’ He stood up. ‘He is safe from us, Asmoth. Boio has suffered the worst punishment of all.’

‘What is that?’

‘Being forced to leave you.’

The girl smiled. In the half-light, she looked almost beautiful.

It was an incongruous gathering. An old man, a donkey, a dwarf, a performing bear and a Saxon thegn were there to wave their farewells. Boio mounted the horse which Thorkell had brought for him and took the letter which the latter handed over.

‘Show it to my kinsman,’ instructed the old man. ‘He will take care of you. Ride hard along the Fosse Way and you will reach him well before midnight. Rest there but leave before dawn tomorrow. My kinsman will teach you the next stage of your journey.’

‘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.’