Mist Over the Water

SEVEN

There were several hours to wait until it was sufficiently dark to sneak Morcar away without anyone seeing us. I wished it were not so, for it was very hard to fill the time and keep the lid on my nervous anxiety. I gave Morcar a sleeping draught; the more he slept, the stronger he would be for the ordeal of the journey. Sibert and I soon ran out of harmless, non-worrying things to say and with relief — certainly on my part — eventually returned to what was uppermost in our minds.

‘You really think someone tried to kill him?’ he whispered, nodding down at the sleeping Morcar.

‘Yes. Why, don’t you?’

‘Oh, yes. There seems no doubt now that the other poor man has been so brutally killed.’ Sibert frowned. ‘Although we still don’t know which of them, Morcar or the dead man, is really the intended victim.’

I, too, had been worrying about that. ‘Why would anyone want to kill Morcar?’ I wondered aloud.

‘I have no idea,’ Sibert said. ‘He’s your cousin. Can’t you come up with anything?’

Slowly, I shook my head. ‘No. Until he came here to Ely, he’s always lived the quiet life of an industrious and not very sociable flint knapper. He’s respected, well liked, as far as I know, and he’s never been in any sort of trouble.’

‘Then maybe it’s the other man who’s the real victim,’ Sibert said eagerly, ‘which would be good because, although of course I’m very sorry for him, at least if the killers know the right man is dead there’s no danger for Morcar any more.’

‘Ye-es,’ I said slowly. I was thinking.

When I said no more Sibert, too, fell silent. I think he even managed to doze, although sleep was very far from me. Late in the afternoon he stirred, stretched, got up and announced that he needed some cool fresh air to clear his head.

‘Be careful,’ I warned.

He grinned. ‘I will.’ Then, his face serious again, ‘I’ll have a look around for a boat, preferably without a boatman in it. It would be good to earmark one for later.’

‘It would,’ I agreed. ‘Good luck.’

Morcar woke up while Sibert was out. To my enormous relief he looked better. The bright-red flush of fever that had stained his cheeks had all but faded away. His eyes were bright, and he looked alert. When I asked him how he felt he grinned briefly and said, ‘I’ll do.’

My cousin is, as I think I’ve said, habitually a man of few words.

While we waited for Sibert to come back I encouraged Morcar to eat — I’d made a sort of savoury porridge which, even though I say it myself, smelled appetizing — and he drank a mug of my febrifuge infusion. Not wanting to put him off his meal I waited till he had finished, then I said, ‘Morcar, if you were the intended victim of the killers, can you think of any reason they would want you dead?’

He smiled grimly. ‘Lassair, since I’ve been able to think clearly again I’ve thought of little else.’

‘And?’ I prompted.

He shook his head. ‘I can think of nothing.’

It was starting to look as if the dead man had been the true target. ‘I-’ I began.

The door was pushed open and Sibert slipped quickly inside, closing the door behind him and leaning against it. I could tell from his face that something was wrong. ‘What?’ I whispered.

He looked down at Morcar and me. ‘There’s been another murder. They found him just now, down in a ditch by the eel fisheries.’

‘Drowned?’ I asked, horrified.

‘No.’ Sibert’s face was grim. ‘Stab wound in the back that went straight through the heart.’

I tried to control the shaking that all but made my teeth clatter. ‘Was he wearing a cloak like Morcar’s?’

Slowly, Sibert nodded.

I crouched beside my cousin. ‘Morcar, I think they really are after you!’ I said urgently. ‘They attacked the right man first time, but you managed to live. Now they have tried twice more, and two innocent men have-’ I bit down on the rest of the sentence. Morcar undoubtedly knew already what I’d been about to say. ‘There must be a reason why they want you dead!’ I said instead. ‘Can’t you think of anything? Has any small incident happened recently that you’ve forgotten about? Something you saw or overheard? Something somebody told you that seemed insignificant at the time but now-’

Sibert nudged me. ‘Let him speak,’ he said.

I realized Morcar was smiling — very faintly — as he waited for my flow of words to stop. ‘Sorry,’ I muttered.

His expression deepened fleetingly into a real smile. Then he said, ‘There was something.’

Together Sibert and I said, ‘What?’

‘It was when Lassair asked if there was anything I saw,’ Morcar said slowly, frowning as if thinking hard. ‘There was something, when I was going home after a long day’s eel fishing. I was tired and dispirited, it was raining like the Flood was coming back and my new cloak was letting in water. I was trudging along under the abbey wall and I could see a gate house up ahead. Not the main one; this was a small one that they don’t use much. I heard a shrill cry but it was quickly muffled, and I peered into the shadows to see who was there. I could make out four figures, maybe five. They were monks, or I thought that was what they were — robed men, anyway, and at least one wore the dark, hooded habit of the Benedictines.’ He paused. I noticed that his breathing had quickened and I hoped it was with the effort of telling his story and not from rising fever.

‘I thought they were just horsing around,’ he went on. ‘One of them was a younger man. He wasn’t much more than a lad, maybe fifteen or sixteen, and he was slim, slight, with bright, very pale hair. I reckoned the older men were teasing him, maybe even bullying him a bit. I guessed the hastily suppressed cry was him — the pale lad — and probably one of the others had quickly shushed him because they were close by the abbey gate and the older monks didn’t want anyone to hear the horseplay and get them into trouble.’ He stared into the distance, eyes unfocused. ‘I don’t reckon they hold with monks being boisterous,’ he remarked.

I was trying to make sense of it. The monks had been roughing up the pale boy and they knew they’d get into trouble if their superiors found out. Was that it? But not that much trouble, surely — not enough to kill the man who had seen the incident. .

Sibert said, ‘Perhaps the pale boy doesn’t want to be a monk and they were taking him inside the abbey by force.’

It was a better idea than mine. ‘They knew someone had seen them, that someone being Morcar — ’ I picked up the thread — ‘and, because what they were doing was wrong, the witness had to be silenced before he told anyone what he’d seen.’

Sibert and I both turned to Morcar. ‘What do you think?’ Sibert asked him. ‘Does that make sense?’

Morcar thought about it. ‘I suppose so,’ he said. ‘But why would it matter to anyone but the lad if he were made to be a monk when he didn’t want to?’ He glanced at me. ‘Who did they fear I’d tell?’

I had no idea. ‘Er-’

‘It would matter,’ Sibert said slowly, ‘if the pale boy is someone important.’

Silence fell as we all thought about that. Eventually, I said tentatively, ‘What, like some lord’s son who was supposed to make an influential marriage?’ We all knew how the wealthy and powerful in our land used their children as pawns in their complicated games, marrying them off where their presence would most benefit their fathers.

‘It’s possible surely?’ Sibert said. ‘And whoever is trying to shut him up with the monks doesn’t want this marriage to happen.’

It was possible, certainly it was. ‘Yes,’ I replied. With an effort I turned away from the interesting avenues of speculation that were flooding my mind. ‘We must work out the why later,’ I said firmly. ‘For now, we have something far more important to do.’ I edged closer to Sibert, lowering my voice. ‘Did you find a boat?’

He nodded. He was smiling, excitement thrumming through him. ‘Yes. It lies tethered to a post right at the end of the track, and it looks as if nobody’s been near it for years.’

‘Is it watertight?’ I demanded. It sounded too good to be true.

‘It floats,’ Sibert hedged. ‘But listen, I’ve got some really good news — it’s raining again, very, very hard!’

Morcar, hearing this, groaned aloud. Thinking of him, my poor, sick patient, I said sharply, ‘Why in the Lord’s name is that good news?’

Sibert looked happily at Morcar and me. ‘Because the water’s started to rise once more, very fast. Already, many of the lower-lying areas around the island are flooded.’

I still did not understand. Morcar did. He said kindly, ‘When it floods, Lassair, you don’t need to find a mule or a carter to take you from Ely to Aelf Fen. With a boat and a strong oarsman — ’ he shot a grateful look at Sibert — ‘you can go by water all the way.’

I did my very best for my cousin. I checked the wounds in his foot, which were angry looking, the surrounding flesh red and swollen, but which showed no signs of putrefaction. I dabbed on more comfrey ointment and re-dressed the foot, wrapping a generous amount of linen around it to pad it. The wounds would hurt like fury if Morcar so much as touched his foot to a hard surface, and I knew I must do what I could to soften the impact. Then Sibert and I helped Morcar into his outer garments, wrapping him closely in his woollen cloak and putting the new short, hooded cloak over the top. I prepared a pack of food and medicines — not many of the latter, for with any luck he would be with Edild in a few hours — and Sibert slung it on his back. Then we gathered up Morcar’s blanket and the sack containing his tools, and together Sibert and I got him to his feet.

Sibert checked the alley outside. It was dusk and there was nobody about, which was hardly surprising as it was raining so hard that we could barely see three yards in front of us. I dived back for my own blanket and put it over Morcar’s head. He needed it more than I did.

We set off, keeping under the eaves of the hovels as much as we could, and Sibert led the way down to the isolated spot where the boat lay all but hidden in the rushes. Its bottom held several inches of water, which Sibert baled out as best he could with his cupped hands. Then we helped Morcar down into it, settling him on the thwart that ran across at the stern. The boat had a framework over the stern and the tattered remnants of a cover for it lay folded under the thwart. The cover was made of canvas, hard and brittle with age, full of dusty dried leaves, cobwebs, dust and general dirt; by the time Sibert and I had draped it over the frame we were both filthy as well as soaked. The cloth did a little to keep the worst of the rain off Morcar and as he looked up at me I could just make out his white face.

He must have seen my anxiety. ‘I’ll be all right,’ he said. I could hear his teeth chattering and I leaned out to him, trying to tuck his blanket more tightly around him, rocking the boat dangerously.’

‘Stop it, Lassair!’ Sibert said in a harsh whisper. ‘We’re wet enough without you spilling us into the water!’

I drew back on to the bank. I felt utterly miserable, worried out of my mind for my patient and not at all sure I was doing the right thing. It would do him no good if we got him away from the men who were trying to kill him only to have him die out on the fen in an open boat. .

It was as if he read my thought. ‘I won’t die,’ he said with a grin. ‘Takes more than a drop of rain to see me off.’

His uncomplaining courage all but undid me. ‘Go on, get on your way,’ I called out softly to Sibert. ‘Take him straight to my aunt.’

‘I will.’ Already, Sibert had coiled in the painter, and now he was nudging the little boat away from the shore with an oar. As I watched he slid the other oar into the water and, as soon as he was clear of the bank, he began to row, quickly getting into a rhythm so that the boat gathered speed. The craft and its passengers disappeared into the teeming rain.

‘Goodbye. Good luck,’ I whispered.

They wouldn’t have heard me. Over the deafening sound of the rain on the water, they wouldn’t have heard me even if I’d yelled.

The little hovel seemed lonely and empty without them. I tried not to think about them out there on the fen; there was nothing I could do now to help them and they must take their chance, relying on Sibert’s oarsmanship and knowledge of the area to get them safely to Aelf Fen. It ought not to take long; going straight across the floodwater was much more direct than going the long way round on dry land. Edild would not mind being woken up in the predawn, and she would-

Stop it, I commanded myself.

I tidied the room, sweeping out the straw that Morcar had lain on and stacking it inside the door for disposal in the morning. I shook up the bed where Sibert had slept and spread out his blanket. I no longer had my blanket, having given it to Morcar, so I made up the fire, banked it carefully with ash to make sure it stayed in till morning, then wrapped myself in my shawl, pulled the end of Sibert’s blanket up over my legs and closed my eyes.

I had not realized how exhausted I was. The next thing I knew, I was opening my eyes to daylight, sunshine was filtering through the cracks around the door and there were sounds of people stirring in the houses either side of me.

The new day was here.

I took advantage of being alone in the room. I heated water, stripped to my skin and washed, then quickly dressed again. I had spread my gown in front of the fire while I slept and now it was more or less dry. I combed out my hair and re-braided it, then I made myself sit down and eat some breakfast. The bread was dry, but I was so hungry that I barely noticed.

As soon as I had finished I set about my self-appointed task. I had remained in Ely to make the killers think Morcar was still there, being looked after by me; it was time to make a start. I tied a clean, white cap over my neatly braided hair and set off.

I knew where the apothecary’s shop was situated; I had spotted it as Sibert and I had searched for Morcar. Now I pretended to be the dullest-witted healer ever to walk the earth, asking again and again for directions and finally, with a flirtatious little smile, forcing a young merchant to walk me right up to the shop door. The more people that got to hear of the silly young healer who could not find her way, the better. From the apothecary I was careful to buy the ingredients I would have required to go on treating Morcar; I needed them in any case, having used up almost all of the supplies I had brought with me. Then I went up to the main gate of the abbey and, very meekly, asked if it were possible to speak to the infirmarer.

The monk at the gate said, ‘We do not permit the entry of lay women into the abbey save with special permission.’ He was a different type from the monk I had seen on my first day, a nicer, more charitable type, for he managed to put regret into the official words, and he looked at me quite kindly.

‘I see,’ I said, eyes cast modestly down. ‘I am sorry to have troubled you, brother.’ I gave a sad little sigh.

As I turned to leave he said, ‘Wait.’ I stopped. ‘What did you want with the infirmarer?’ he asked.

I risked a quick look up into his face. ‘I am nursing my sick cousin,’ I said. ‘He fell in the ditch and has a fever, and he also has a deep wound in his foot.’ That ought to be sufficient to describe Morcar, if anybody were interested. ‘I’m doing my best to treat him — ’ quickly, I reeled off the standard remedies for fever and grave wounds — ‘but I wanted to ask someone with much, much more experience than I have if I’m doing right.’ I bit my lip, staring at my boots.

There was a pause. Then the monk said, ‘Wait here. I will send word.’

I waited. I wanted to cheer with jubilation, but I restrained the urge. Presently, my monk returned. ‘He’s on his way,’ he muttered. Then he went back to guarding the gate, glaring out across the street as if pretending to be the very last monk in the abbey to be caught in a simple act of kindness for an anxious young healer.

I waited for some time. Then a gruff voice behind me said, ‘I’m Brother Luke. Are you the girl with the fever patient?’

I spun round to him, bowing my head as I admitted that I was. Curtly, he ran through his version of how I ought to care for my cousin, which was pretty much what I’d been doing anyway. When he’d finished, I thanked him profusely and, reaching into the little leather purse at my waist, took out a coin. ‘Please put this in the poor box, Brother Luke,’ I said.

He looked at it, surprise in his eyes. I had given him more than I could afford, but I wanted to make quite sure he remembered me and, hopefully, spoke of me to all his brethren.

It was almost midday before I returned to the little house. I knew someone was inside, for the leather strap that I had wound around the latch to hold it firmly closed was hanging loosely from a nail on the door post. Hoping it was Sibert, I went in.

Sibert lay fast asleep on the straw mattress, mouth open, snoring rhythmically. I found myself smiling broadly; it was such a relief to see him. I burned to ask him if Morcar was all right, but he needed to sleep. I left him to it and set about unpacking the clutch of small, linen bags containing the supplies I had purchased from the apothecary. You just never knew when you might need a fever remedy. .

Sibert woke up late in the afternoon and said he was hungry and was there anything to eat? While he slept I had been out to find food, and I had prepared a generous meal. I’d visited the area where stalls had been set up to serve the huge workforce, buying dumplings made of flaked fish, flour and spices, a bread and mushroom poultice, a pot of honey-glazed carrots and slices of a sweet loaf flavoured with ginger, spices, berries and walnuts. I also had a jug of mead. I had spent far more than I ought to have done — we would have to exist on meagre supplies from now on, unless Sibert managed to go foraging — but there was something that I had to ask Sibert to do, and I badly needed him to agree.

We ate hungrily, having first raised our mead cups and drunk to Morcar’s good health. Sibert had already told me he was all right and had survived the journey; the first thing he’d said when he woke up — well, actually the second, after I’m hungry — was, ‘Don’t look so worried, Lassair, Morcar’s tucked up safely at Aelf Fen and both your aunt and my uncle are looking after him to the very best of their abilities.’

I made myself relax as Sibert and I worked our way through our feast. It was too good to waste by being so anxious that I didn’t notice what I was eating. When we had finished and were relaxing on our straw piles, I gathered my courage and said, ‘Sibert, we can’t stay here for ever pretending to nurse a man who isn’t here. Sooner or later someone will discover the deception, and besides I’ve got better things to do with my life.’

Sibert grinned. ‘Me too.’

‘We have to find out who tried to kill Morcar and why,’ I hurried on, ‘and so far the only thing we have to go on is that strange scene that he saw at the abbey gate.’

‘Yes,’ Sibert agreed. ‘The pale boy who doesn’t want to be a monk.’

It was a grand conclusion to draw from such a small incident but, as I had just said, all we had. If it had been this that Morcar had seen, and that the killers had to keep secret, then it was indeed the right place to begin. Before I could start to doubt myself I said, ‘You’ve got to go into the abbey, Sibert. You have to find this pale-haired boy and speak to him. If he’s there against his will, we’ll try to help him. Even if we can’t, we must tell someone — ’ the abbot, I supposed — ‘and bring the whole thing into the open, because only then will the killers stop hunting Morcar.’

Sibert obviously followed the logic of this, nodding as I spoke. Then he fixed me with a glare and said, ‘You said you must go into the abbey. Don’t you mean we?’

I took a breath, slowly letting it out. Then I said, as calmly as I could, ‘No, I’m afraid not. It’s an abbey full of Benedictine monks and they only admit lay women when they really have to.’

‘You’re not a woman, you’re a healer,’ Sibert protested.

I knew what he meant. ‘Yes, but I don’t think they make the distinction.’ I explained about my visit that morning and how, even having described myself as a healer, I had not been allowed in.

‘Oh.’ He sounded forlorn. Accepting, but definitely forlorn.

I reached over, the mead jug in my hand, and topped up his mug. ‘Come on!’ I said bracingly. ‘A man who has just rowed across half the fens and back again is surely not afraid of a bunch of monks!’

He grinned. ‘It’s not the same,’ he said vaguely.

No, I was sure it wasn’t. I dug him playfully in the ribs. ‘What’s the matter, afraid they’ll make you stay in?’

I had been joking, but from the sudden heat in his face I realized I’d hit the bull. He muttered something, his face still red, and I reached for his hand. ‘They won’t.’ I stated it flatly. ‘If they do, I’ll come and get you.’

His smile widened. ‘Promise?’

‘Promise.’

He gave a deep sigh. ‘Very well. I’ll go in as soon as they open the gates in the morning.’