The Elephants of Norwich

Chapter Thirteen

Starculf had not been idle. While his pursuers were inspecting his footprints in the ditch and noting the flattened grass behind the tree stump, he was burrowing deeper into the heart of the wheat field, staying very low and doing his best to create as little visible disturbance as possible. As he strained his ears for the noise of hoofbeats, another sound could be heard faintly in the distance. It was the roll of the waves on the shore and it took on a seductive rhythm. Surrounded by stalks of wheat, he was only a mile or more from the coast to which he had been heading. Once there, he proposed to make his way south in search of a boat that would take him to safety. Starculf had money enough to buy his passage and reason enough to quit England for ever. All that stood between him and salvation were the nine men who were tracking him. Unable to outrun them, he had to stay where he was until they had gone past him. Patience was his watchword.

Ralph Delchard and Gervase Bret also had the gift of patience. When they reached the point where the land sloped sharply away from them, they tried to work out how far a man might get on foot, and came to the same conclusion. Ralph waved his men to a halt, then nudged his horse towards Gervase so that he could have a brief conference with him. Jocelyn Vavasour came over to join them. The anchorite’s suspicion coincided exactly with their own.

‘I think that he may be in that field of wheat,’ he said, pointing a finger.

‘So do I,’ said Ralph, ‘but I don’t want to ruin the harvest by charging in there with my men. There’s an easier way to draw him out.’

‘Is there, my lord?’

‘We ride on past the field and make for that stand of trees in the distance. Our hoofbeats will have faded by then. He’ll think that we’ve gone.’

‘All we have to do is wait,’ said Gervase, surveying the field. ‘If Starculf is in there, he’ll soon come out when he thinks he’s safe. If he isn’t hiding amid the wheat, we’ll not have lost much time and we won’t have trampled over someone’s harvest.’

‘True,’ said Jocelyn.

‘You agree, then?’ asked Ralph.

‘Yes, my lord.’

The plan was put into action immediately. Signalling to his men, Ralph brought them all together then led them in formation at a brisk trot. They went down the hill and on past the wheat field, skirting its perimeter without even looking at it and continuing on for over a quarter of a mile until they reached a stand of willows and sycamores. Once they went round the angle of the copse, they were out of sight of any fugitive who might be lurking in the field. They reined in their horses and dismounted. Ralph, Gervase and Jocelyn crept through the trees in search of a vantage point from which they could observe the field. It was a hot afternoon. Cooled by a breeze that came off the sea, they could hear the waves rolling behind them quite clearly. If the fugitive headed for the coast, they had comprehensively cut off his escape route.

But there was no sign of Starculf. In the field, the wheat danced in the wind and shone in the sunshine. Nobody rose out of it to continue his bid for freedom. As time oozed slowly past, they began to lose faith in their instincts.

‘He’s not there,’ Ralph decided.

‘Give him more time,’ advised Gervase.

‘But he may already have reached the coast. We should be riding along the shore.’

‘Only when we’re sure he’s not hiding in that field.’

‘I prefer the lord Ralph’s counsel,’ said Jocelyn, worried. ‘Starculf is ahead of us and not behind us. We should mount up and give pursuit.’

‘Hold here a little longer,’ said Gervase, restraining him gently.

‘It’s a needless delay,’ Ralph complained.

‘Yes,’ said Jocelyn. ‘Starculf could be getting away.’

‘Not unless he has a horse hidden in that wheat field as well,’ said Gervase, using a hand to shield his eyes from the sun. ‘I can see movement.’

‘Where?’ said Ralph, tensing at the promise of action. ‘Where is he?’

‘Over to the left. Do you see him?’

Ralph let his gaze drift across to the left of the field and realised that Gervase had seen something that had eluded both him and the anchorite. No head had been lifted above the top of the stalks but a thin dark line was gradually snaking through the wheat. They were too far away to be certain of what they were witnessing. The parting of the wheat might have been caused by a dog or another animal making its way along but Ralph felt otherwise. He sensed that Starculf was about to make an appearance at last.

The fugitive was circumspect. When he had crawled all the way to the edge of the field, he did not break cover at once. Instead, he waited and watched until he was satisfied that there was nobody in sight. With a suddenness that took them all by surprise, he then rose up and loped off.

‘We’ve got him!’ said Ralph.

‘He’s mine!’ declared Vavasour.

‘There’s no hurry,’ said Gervase. ‘He can’t possibly get away.’

But his companions were not listening. Engaged in a private race, they mounted their horses and kicked them into a gallop. Ralph’s men were not far behind, spreading out in a semicircle to eliminate any hope of escape for the fugitive. When he saw them coming, Starculf changed the angle of his run, increasing his speed and aiming for the marshland off to his right, but it was a futile exercise. He was trapped. All that remained to be decided was who got to him first. Determined that he would have the pleasure of arresting the man, Ralph spurred his destrier on, but the weight of his hauberk slowed the animal slightly. It was the lighter figure of Jocelyn Vavasour, wearing no mailcoat and carrying no weapon, who surged ahead on his borrowed horse.

Reaching the edge of the marshes, Starculf zigzagged between the pools until he heard the splash of hooves in water. His flight was soon over. As he turned to see how far behind him they were, he was caught by a well-aimed foot that sent him tumbling to the ground. Vavasour was on him in a flash. Bringing his horse to an abrupt halt, he leaped down from the saddle and ran across to the man who was now struggling to get up, grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him vigorously.

‘Where are the elephants?’

‘First things first,’ said Ralph, dismounting to hurry over. ‘My name is Ralph Delchard,’ he announced, taking hold of the prisoner, ‘and it’s my duty to arrest you on behalf of Roger Bigot, sheriff of Norfolk and Suffolk.’

Starculf was still too dazed to reply. Ralph misunderstood his silence. ‘Would you rather I used your language?’ he said in English.

‘No, my lord,’ answered the other, slowly recovering. ‘Given the circumstances, I think I’d prefer to be arrested in French.’

‘Then that’s how it’ll be,’ agreed Ralph, reverting to his own tongue.

‘Ask him about the elephants, my lord,’ urged Vavasour, impatiently.

‘All in good time, Jocelyn.’

‘But I want them now. That’s the whole purpose of my mission.’

‘There’s the small matter of a homicide to discuss first.’

‘I caught him, my lord. I want those holy treasures.’

‘You’ll get them,’ said Ralph, firmly, ‘when I’m ready and not before.’

‘Search him!’

‘I’ll not be rushed,’ warned the other. ‘Starculf is my prisoner.’

Vavasour glared mutinously. ‘If you say so.’

‘I do say so.’

Gervase had now arrived and dismounted to join them on the ground. He took a close look at Starculf and matched him to the description they had been given of Richard de Fontenel’s former servant. There could be no question of the prisoner’s identity. He was a tall, handsome, well-built young man. Even in his dishevelled state, Starculf was a striking figure, his features smooth, his beard well trimmed and his eyes glistening with a quiet pride. Gervase discerned another cause for the enmity between him and the steward with whom he worked. The short, stocky Hermer, who had to secure his pleasures by force, was bound to resent a man to whom sexual favours would be freely offered.

Ralph returned to his interrogation. ‘I’m arresting you on a charge of murder,’ he said, solemnly, ‘in that you did wilfully and maliciously kill one Hermer, steward to the lord Richard.’

‘No, my lord!’ protested the other.

‘Don’t lie to me!’

‘On my oath, I didn’t kill Hermer.’

‘Then why are you running away?’

‘Because I don’t wish to pay for a crime I didn’t commit.’

‘Tell the truth, man!’ ordered Ralph.

‘That is the truth, my lord,’ said Starculf, earnestly. ‘I’ll swear on the Holy Bible that I didn’t lay hands on Hermer. The first that I heard about his death was when the lord sheriff’s men started hunting for me.’

‘Innocent men don’t need to flee.’

‘They do if they have little chance of proving their innocence.’

‘What about the elephants?’ demanded Vavasour.

‘Let them wait!’ said Ralph, irritably. ‘Pinion him!’

Two of his men moved in swiftly to tie Starculf’s hands behind his back and to remove his dagger from its sheath. The fugitive had no other weapon on him. Gervase was impressed with the man’s bearing. Starculf was no cringing felon, begging for mercy or hissing defiance. Nor was there anything of a trapped animal about him. Upright and unafraid, he exuded a strange honesty.

‘You claim that you’re innocent?’ said Gervase.

‘I didn’t murder the lord Richard’s steward,’ Starculf replied.

‘Yet you vowed to get revenge on him and his master.’

‘I confess it readily.’

‘Now we’re getting somewhere,’ said Ralph.

‘Let him finish,’ suggested Gervase, touching his friend’s arm. ‘Go on, Starculf.’

‘Hermer was a brutal man,’ said Starculf, bitterly, ‘and a lustful one at that. I tried to shut my eyes to his behaviour at first but it became too gross to ignore. So I spoke out against him. After what he did, Hermer didn’t deserve to live.’

‘So you wanted to kill him?’

‘Yes.’

‘And you planned to do so?’

Starculf hesitated. ‘It was always at the back of my mind,’ he said.

‘I think it was at the forefront,’ argued Ralph. ‘If you didn’t have designs on the man’s life, why go to the trouble of getting duplicate keys to the lord Richard’s house?’ The prisoner was startled. ‘Yes, my friend. A locksmith in Wymondham gave the lord sheriff a good description of you. On that occasion, you didn’t use your own name. You called yourself Alstan.’

‘That was the name of a slave on the estate, wasn’t it?’ said Gervase.

‘You know more than I feared,’ admitted the other. ‘Yes, I did have duplicate keys made and I did use Alstan’s name because I knew the man when I worked on the lord Richard’s estate. Alstan was shamefully treated by Hermer.’

‘Yet he didn’t return in order to murder him.’

‘Neither did I.’

‘Then why did you have those keys made?’

‘We’re going round in circles here,’ complained Vavasour, stepping forward. ‘Ask him all you wish but first let me have the elephants so that I can return them to the abbey at once. You owe me that, my lord,’ he said, looking at Ralph. ‘I led you here.’

‘That’s so,’ conceded Ralph. ‘Take your treasures, Jocelyn. You’ve earned them.’

‘Well?’ said Vavasour to the prisoner. ‘Where are they?’

‘What?’

‘The gold elephants you took from the lord Richard’s house.’

‘I took nothing.’

‘Blessed by the Pope himself,’ added Vavasour, ‘and presented by me to the abbey of St Benet at Holme. Now, don’t prevaricate, man. Where are they?’

‘I have no idea,’ said Starculf.

‘They’re hidden about you somewhere.’

‘Search me, if you wish, but you’ll find no gold elephants about my person. I’ve never laid eyes on such objects and I certainly didn’t take them from the lord Richard’s house. This is the first I’ve ever heard of them.’

Jocelyn Vavasour refused to believe him. Pulling him close, he subjected the prisoner to a thorough search, even to the extent of tearing off some of his clothing. Starculf bore it all with dignity. Nothing was found on him apart from some money. Ralph and Gervase were the first to accept that the prisoner was telling the truth.

‘Leave him alone,’ said Ralph. ‘He didn’t take them.’

‘I never went into the lord Richard’s house,’ Starculf insisted.

‘You must have!’ shouted Vavasour.

‘But I didn’t. I give you my word.’

Pushed almost to despair, the anchorite grabbed him and shook him violently. ‘I want those elephants!’ he cried. ‘Where are they?’

Long after Adelaide’s departure, Richard de Fontenel was still fuming with anger. The woman he had planned to marry had just walked decisively out of his life. When he looked around for solace, he found none at all. In the space of a few short days, he had suffered a series of disasters. His steward had been murdered, two valuable gold objects stolen from his strong room, one of his trusted servants unmasked as a spy in the pay of his rival and the lady Adelaide had rejected him outright. What pained him most was that the advantage had now been decisively handed to Mauger Livarot. Not only would the latter be able to rejoice in de Fontenel’s misfortune, he would probably wed the very person over whom the two of them had fought so long. It was intolerable.

After brooding on the malignancy of Fate, he was jerked into action. Since their origin had been revealed to the lady Adelaide, the recovery of the gold elephants no longer dominated his thinking. He would never get them back. Instead, he turned his attention to the capture of Hermer’s killer. There was more than theft and murder to lay at his door. In exposing the earlier theft from the abbey, the culprit had rendered de Fontenel liable to investigation himself and deprived him of the woman he had been tempted to take as his wife. He had caused acute embarrassment to someone who was accustomed to unquestioning respect. Certain that Starculf was responsible for his downfall, de Fontenel now wanted retribution. He called for his horse to be saddled and summoned his men. They were soon riding towards Norwich castle.

A mile down the road, they were met by the unlikely sight of an adipose man, panting and perspiring as he struggled to control a small, wayward horse. Richard de Fontenel brought his troop to a halt and stared in amazement at Judicael the Goldsmith.

‘What are you doing here?’ he asked.

‘I was on my way to see you, my lord,’ said the other, anxiously.

‘If it’s about that commission of mine, you’ve made a pointless journey. The items will no longer be needed, Judicael.’

‘I know. The order was cancelled earlier today.’

‘By whom?’

‘The lord Mauger.’

‘But it’s nothing to do with him!’

‘That’s what I told him.’

‘When?’

‘This morning, my lord,’ said the goldsmith, feeling his throat ruefully. ‘He came to my shop and demanded to know what you had commissioned from me. It seems that you were spotted visiting me yesterday.’

‘Mauger has intelligencers everywhere!’ growled the other.

‘I refused to divulge any information but he drew his dagger on me. I had to tell him the truth, my lord,’ he bleated, apologetically, ‘or he’d have used the weapon on me.’

‘You told him about my commission?’

‘Only under duress.’

‘You idiot!’ De Fontenel swung an arm and knocked Judicael from the saddle. After rolling in the dust, the man got up on his knees to implore mercy. His horse seized the opportunity to bolt.

‘What did you say to him?’

‘As little as possible, my lord. I swear it.’

‘I warned you to keep your mouth shut.’

‘The lord Mauger used violence against me.’

‘That’s nothing to what I’ll use,’ snarled de Fontenel. ‘And what’s this about the commission to make those replicas being cancelled?’

‘It was only your commission that was void,’ said Judicael, scrambling to his feet and clutching at de Fontenel’s leg. ‘The lord Mauger told me that you’d no longer have use for the objects, but there was a chance that he himself might need the replicas. If it proved necessary, he was going to employ me himself.’

‘What!’

Richard de Fontenel’s bellow made the goldsmith jump back in alarm. Spurring his horse into life, he led his men off at speed, leaving a cloud of dust in their wake. Priorities had now altered. Instead of going to Norwich castle to berate the sheriff for his delay in bringing the killer to justice, de Fontenel concentrated his anger on his rival. He and his companions rode hell-for-leather towards the estate of Mauger Livarot.

Bruised and shaken, the hapless goldsmith started to search for his horse.

Mauger Livarot was also in the saddle. Accompanied by Drogo and with a dozen of his men at his back, he cantered over the gentle undulations of the Norfolk countryside in the direction of the coast. His steward was eager to claim his share of praise.

‘I told you that I spent money wisely on your behalf, my lord,’ he said.

‘You did, Drogo.’

‘I knew that it was worth having the lord Ralph followed.’

‘He’s a keener huntsman than Roger Bigot,’ said Livarot, eyes on the landscape ahead, ‘but will he lead us to the man we want? More to the point, will we be able to take those gold elephants for our own use?’

‘I hope so, my lord.’

‘I need more than hope.’

An expression of grim determination was on his face. Mauger Livarot did not give his promises lightly. Since the lady Adelaide had made a request, it had to be met. She could not be satisfied with mere replicas. The joy of possession weighed more heavily with her than the knowledge that she would be guilty of sacrilege. Provided that secrecy was maintained, she wanted the gold elephants that were taken from the abbey so that she could gloat over them in private. Both she and Livarot had endowed the monastic institution in the past. Perhaps the lady Adelaide felt that her generosity absolved her from the charge of receiving stolen property. It would be the second time that the treasures would be offered to her and Livarot vowed that it would be the last. He was thrilled that she had chosen the original objects over the possibility of replicas made by Judicael. It was not simply an indication of her superior taste. It revealed an unscrupulous vein in her that boded well for their marriage.

She and Livarot understood each other. They were two of a kind.

The man was waiting near the derelict house where Starculf had spent the night. When the newcomers drew to a halt, he hastened over to report his news to his master. ‘The lord Ralph went this way, my lord.’

‘Who was travelling with him?’ asked Livarot.

‘His fellow commissioner and six men-at-arms.’

‘Nobody else?’

‘There was another rider whom I hardly recognised at first. He was dressed in rags and wearing a beard. I couldn’t believe that it was the lord Jocelyn.’

‘Jocelyn Vavasour?’ said the other with alarm. ‘What was he doing here?’

‘The same as us, probably,’ said Drogo. ‘Hunting for those treasures.’

‘We must get to them before he does!’

‘Yes, my lord.’

Livarot was peremptory. ‘Ride with us,’ he ordered the other man. ‘We may need every sword we can muster. There’s no time to lose. Away!’

Urging on his horse, he set a fierce pace for them.

Hands still tied behind his back, Starculf rode between Ralph Delchard and Gervase Bret on a horse they had borrowed in a village through which they had passed. Two of the men-at-arms led the little column, four more brought up the rear, Detached from the others by a dozen yards or more, Jocelyn Vavasour followed dejectedly, still fretting over the loss of his beloved elephants and chiding himself for lapsing so easily into violence when he captured the fugitive.

They were moving at an easy trot. It enabled the commissioners to continue their interrogation.

‘Why did you get those duplicate keys made?’ asked Ralph.

‘To gain access to the lord Richard’s house,’ confessed Starculf.

‘Yet you claim that you never made use of them.’

‘When I learned of Hermer’s death, it became unnecessary.’

‘But you did plan to kill him?’

‘I wanted revenge, my lord.’

‘Why wait so long?’ wondered Gervase. ‘It was ages since you’d been dismissed by him. And why go to all the trouble of getting into the house when it would have been far easier to ambush him when he was out on the estate or visiting one of the outliers?’

‘It wouldn’t have been that easy,’ said Starculf. ‘Hermer never travelled alone. I’d have been one man against three or four. Besides, I wanted to deliver a personal message to the lord Richard. The best place to do that was under his own roof.’

‘Yet the body wasn’t found at the house.’

‘If I’d killed Hermer, it would have been.’

‘Why do you think it was left close to the castle?’

Starculf shook his head. ‘I can’t tell you that.’

‘You must have some idea,’ said Ralph.

‘I didn’t kill him, my lord. That’s all I can say. I’d have done it very differently.’

‘So you plotted murder but didn’t have the stomach to carry it out.’

‘No,’ said the other with vehemence. ‘I wasn’t lacking in courage. I risked my life to get inside that house at night to borrow the lord Richard’s keys. That took a lot of courage. The reason I didn’t kill him was that someone got to Hermer before I did. I can’t reproach myself enough for that.’

‘For what?’

‘Delaying my move for so long. I lost my prize.’

‘Is that what you call it?’ said Ralph, disapprovingly.

‘Yes, my lord.’

Tired of riding adrift of the others, Vavasour caught them up and brought his horse alongside Ralph’s mount. The anchorite still believed that the prisoner was deceiving them in some way. He listened carefully to Starculf’s account of his movements since leaving Richard de Fontenel’s estate.

‘I was an outcast. The lord Richard didn’t merely hound me off his land, he threatened to have me whipped if I was ever caught in the county of Norfolk again. I went down into Suffolk to lie low for a while, working as a falconer for a new master, but I never forgot the old one. I knew Hermer feared that I might return and that kept him on his guard. I let time pass so that he and the lord Richard would think they’d seen the end of me.’ He gave a secret smile. ‘Then I went back for the keys.’

‘When both of them were absent from the house,’ said Gervase.

‘Yes.’

‘That was very convenient for you, wasn’t it?’

‘I knew where the lord Richard kept his keys,’ said Starculf. ‘Nobody else was allowed to use them so they’d not be missed for a few days. I chose a locksmith in Wymondham because I thought I’d never be looked for there.’

‘But you were.’

‘Unfortunately.’

‘Let’s go back to the theft of those keys,’ said Gervase, studying his profile. ‘I don’t think you would ride all the way up from Suffolk in the hope that the house you wanted to break into would be largely unoccupied. You knew, didn’t you? You had an accomplice who told you the exact moment to strike.’

‘Someone did give me a little help,’ conceded Starculf.

‘Who was it?’

‘That’s not important.’

‘Of course it is,’ asserted Ralph. ‘The fellow is as guilty as you are.’

‘No, my lord.’

‘Tell me his name!’

‘I’ll never do that,’ Starculf said, proudly. ‘The person who gave me the information had no idea what use I meant to put it to. When I broke into that house-and when I returned the keys I borrowed from there-I had no accomplice.’

‘What about the gold elephants?’ asked Vavasour, bitterly. ‘Did you have a confederate when you stole them?’

‘I’ve told you before that I didn’t steal them.’

‘I say that you’re lying.’

‘Not about the elephants,’ decided Gervase. ‘I don’t think he even knew that they existed until you mentioned them. And he’s not lying about the murder either. He’s doing something more subtle than that, aren’t you, Starculf?’

‘What’s that?’

‘Deliberately holding back the full truth.’

Further questioning was interrupted by the arrival of a body of riders on the horizon. Moving swiftly in pairs, twenty or more men were galloping towards them with the sheriff at their head. Ralph moved his party forward at a canter until the groups met.

Roger Bigot was delighted to see that they had a prisoner with them. ‘Is Starculf taken?’

‘He is, my lord sheriff,’ said Ralph. ‘We deliver him over to you.’

Slapping the rump of Starculf’s horse, he sent it forward. One of the sheriff’s officers took the reins, and two other men took up their positions either side of the fugitive. Roger Bigot eyed the prisoner with a mixture of relief and curiosity. ‘So this is the man who murdered Hermer, is it?’ he said.

‘He denies the charge,’ said Gervase, ‘and we believe him.’

‘I don’t,’ said Vavasour.

The sheriff noticed the hirsute rider for the first time. He peered at him. ‘Saints preserve us!’ he exclaimed. ‘Is it really the lord Jocelyn?’

‘That’s not a name I answer to any more.’

‘You’ve changed so much.’

‘For the better, my lord sheriff. I’ve drawn back from the abyss. I lead a contemplative life now instead of one dedicated to greed and warfare.’

‘Don’t let him give us a homily,’ implored Ralph. ‘It’s far too hot a day for that.’

‘This man is guilty,’ said Vavasour, indicating the prisoner.

Starculf was adamant. ‘I didn’t kill Hermer.’

‘I agree,’ attested Gervase. ‘I think he’s innocent of the murder.’

‘So do I,’ said Ralph. ‘Guilty of much else but innocent of murder.’

The sheriff was dismayed. Hoping that the case had finally been solved, he was faced with an unexpected setback. Starculf’s denial did not impress him but the firmness of the responses from the commissioners made Roger Bigot take the plea seriously. After staring at the prisoner, he divided a baleful glance between Ralph and Gervase.

‘If Starculf didn’t kill him,’ he said with exasperation, ‘then who did?’

The sunlit afternoon encouraged them to take a leisurely walk around the perimeter of the bailey. Having been thoroughly soaked on the previous day, Golde was pleased to be enjoying less trying conditions. Alys, too, blossomed in the bright sun.

‘Isn’t it beautiful out here?’ she said. ‘We might almost be in a garden.’

‘Apart from the high walls and the guards on the ramparts,’ replied Golde with mild cynicism. ‘But it’s good to be able to stretch our legs. There’s a limit to how long I want to watch the lady Matilda work on that tapestry of hers.’

‘It’s such an intricate piece of work.’

‘I’d never dare to undertake it.’

‘Why not?’

‘My hands lack the requisite skill.’

‘Nonsense!’ said Alys. ‘They had skill enough to brew ale.’

Golde laughed. ‘Brewing calls for rather different talents. In any case, I’ve put that life behind me now-thanks to Ralph.’

‘He changed your life, didn’t he?’

‘Completely.’

‘Are you ever afraid for him when he rides out with his men?’

‘Never, Alys. He’s a born soldier.’

‘Gervase isn’t,’ sighed the other. ‘I fear for his safety all the time.’

‘There’s no need. Gervase is well able to take care of himself. In fact…’ Golde broke off as she saw a familiar figure ride in through the main gate. ‘Is that the lady Adelaide?’ she said in surprise.

‘I think so,’ said Alys. ‘I wonder what she’s doing at the castle?’

‘Let’s find out.’

They hurried across to the newcomer. The lady Adelaide was escorted by two men-at-arms, one of whom dismounted to help her down from the saddle. When she saw the two women approaching, she beamed regally and offered warm greetings.

‘I was hoping to call on the lady Matilda,’ she explained. ‘Is she here?’

‘Yes, my lady,’ said Golde.

‘Precious few of us still are,’ Alys piped up, admiring the visitor’s immaculate appearance yet again. ‘The castle is almost deserted.’

Adelaide looked around. ‘Where is everybody?’

‘Joining in the search for the killer,’ said Golde. ‘The lord sheriff has set his heart on catching the culprit today. He’s leading the search himself.’

‘Is the lord Ralph involved in the hunt?’

‘Yes, my lady. My husband left shortly after dawn.’

‘So did mine,’ said Alys. ‘Ralph knocked on our door very early.’

‘Do they hold out much hope of finding the man?’ asked the visitor.

‘I think so,’ said Golde. ‘My husband wanted the pleasure of arresting the killer himself. He has delayed the commissioners’ work long enough. Ralph wants him put under lock and key so that they can begin their deliberations.’

‘All of us want the fellow arrested as soon as possible.’

‘ I certainly do,’ said Alys, widening her eyes. ‘He not only committed murder. He stole some holy treasures that rightly belong to an abbey.’

‘So I understand.’

‘What sort of man would do that?’

‘An ungodly one,’ murmured Adelaide.

‘Brother Daniel was shocked. He’s the scribe to the commissioners. Stealing from an abbey is a most heinous crime in his eyes. I agree with him, don’t you?’

‘Of course, Alys.’

‘But you know the man responsible, I hear.’

‘Vaguely.’

‘Ralph said that this Starculf once worked as your falconer.’

‘My husband’s falconer,’ corrected the other with undue sharpness. ‘I had no dealings with him myself. After he went to the lord Richard’s estate, I never saw him. Starculf belongs very much to my past.’

‘What drove him to kill and steal, my lady?’ asked Alys.

‘I haven’t the slightest idea.’

‘It sounds to me as if you’re well rid of the fellow.’

‘I am indeed,’ said the other, moving gracefully away. ‘But you’ll have to excuse me. I need to speak to the lady Matilda. Goodbye.’

They waved her politely off then traded a puzzled frown. ‘She was doing it again,’ said Golde, turning to watch the departing visitor.

‘Doing what?’

‘Using us to get information about our husbands. The lady Adelaide wants to know what progress has been made. Now that she knows where Ralph and Gervase are, she’ll see what she can find out from the lady Matilda about the sheriff’s movements.’

Alys puckered her face. ‘Why is she so keen to hear about the search?’

‘It could just be natural curiosity. On the other hand…’

‘Yes?’

‘Well, the lady Adelaide is directly involved here,’ said Golde, recalling what she had overheard. ‘Those gold elephants were first offered to her as a wedding gift. Unbeknown to her, of course, they were stolen property but they must have impressed her greatly. They’re reputedly works of art. We saw how fond she was of gold when we visited her.’

‘The jewellery that she wears is always so striking.’

‘Yes,’ agreed Golde as the visitor ascended the steps to the keep, ‘the lady Adelaide likes to glitter. It’s important for her to be the centre of attention.’

Alys sighed. ‘I’m too shy to want that. I prefer the shadows.’

‘There’s no shadow dark enough to hide the lady Adelaide.’

‘Why did she stalk off like that, Golde?’

‘Because we caught her on a raw spot.’

‘I didn’t think that she had any.’

‘Neither did I until I mentioned the name of Starculf. Did you notice how quickly her manner changed? And she went out of her way to deny any real acquaintance with him, yet according to Ralph she recommended him to the lord Richard.’

‘I found that rather odd as well.’

‘There was something even more curious. Not in anything she said, but I saw it clearly in her eyes. The lady Adelaide gave me the impression that she didn’t actually want Starculf to be caught.’

Alys was silent. She blinked rapidly as if feeling a spasm of pain.

‘What’s the trouble?’ said Golde. ‘Are you unwell?’

‘No, no. I feel fine.’

It was Ralph Delchard’s turn to be slightly baffled. When the long cavalcade reached a fork in the road, Gervase Bret suggested that they break away from the main body in order to continue their inquiries elsewhere. It was no casual suggestion. Ralph knew his friend was not given to wild impulse. If Gervase advised a course of action, a great deal of thought had gone into it. For that reason, Ralph detached himself and his men. While the sheriff took the prisoner back to Norwich castle, the commissioners plunged on into the Henstead hundred. Jocelyn the Anchorite went with them, sensing that Gervase might possibly lead him to the missing treasures.

‘Are we to be told where we’re going, Gervase?’ asked Ralph.

‘To search for the killer.’

‘We’ve been doing that all day.’

‘No, Ralph. We were looking for Starculf and he didn’t commit the murder. In thought, perhaps-but not in deed.’

‘I still have my doubts about him,’ said Vavasour. ‘He’s no innocent man.’

‘Oh, he’s guilty of abetting the murder, that much is clear. But it obviously didn’t go as planned. Starculf was saving Hermer for himself when his accomplice stepped in ahead of him.’

‘What accomplice?’

‘The man for whom he had those duplicate keys made. My guess is that they agreed to work together. Starculf needed someone to watch his back so he found a man who was only too glad to assist him.’

‘And who was that?’ pressed Ralph.

‘Cast your mind back to that visit Golde and I made.’

‘The one to Olova? I’ll never forget it,’ said the other with a ripe chuckle. ‘Golde was drenched by that rain. When I first saw her, I thought that she’d fallen into a stream.’

‘It was Aelfeva who ended up in the stream, Ralph. He found her.’

‘Who?’

‘The man we’re going to see. Olova told me how heartbroken he was when he saw her dead body floating on the water. That kind of experience would embitter anyone. I can see why Skalp was fired up to attack the steward.’

‘Skalp?’ said Vavasour.

‘Olova’s grandson. You must have noticed him when you called there yourself. A big, strong, surly young man who was very protective towards the old woman.’

‘I saw no sign of him.’

‘Then he must have been hiding somewhere.’

‘With cause, by the sound of it,’ said Ralph, trusting in his friend’s judgement. ‘Are you saying that Skalp was guilty of both crimes, Gervase? Theft and murder?’

‘I believe so.’

‘On his own?’

‘Probably. One man would attract less attention.’

‘But he didn’t know his way around the lord Richard’s estate.’

‘Starculf did,’ said Gervase, ‘and he would have told his accomplice all that he needed to know. He even gave him the duplicate keys to look after until the appointed time. Skalp couldn’t wait. He wanted Hermer too badly.’

‘How can you be so sure?’ asked Vavasour.

Gervase raised a finger. ‘Remember what Starculf told us. He wanted to kill Hermer in the lord Richard’s manor house and leave the body there to shock his old master. The last thing he would’ve done is to drag it across country at night and deposit the corpse so close to the castle. Skalp wasn’t content with upsetting the lord Richard,’ he went on. ‘He wanted to outrage the entire city. That’s why he left the stench of death right there in the middle of it.’

‘What about the severed hands?’ said Ralph.

‘Did Starculf look like the sort of person to do that?’

‘I suppose not.’

‘He had no reason. Skalp did. Those were the hands that had defiled Aelfeva.’

Ralph grimaced. ‘I’m surprised he didn’t cut off the man’s pizzle as well.’

‘Skalp made his point strongly enough.’

‘Why did he return the hands to the lord Richard?’

‘To give him a jolt, Ralph.’

‘Just hearing about it jolted me,’ confessed the other.

‘Thank heaven I turned away from that world!’ said Vavasour with an upsurge of remorse. ‘I hacked off limbs in my time. I blinded and maimed. In the name of duty, I fought and killed my way right round this country.’

‘So did I, my friend. We had no choice.’

‘But we did, my lord. We could’ve refused to go on with the slaughter. We could’ve renounced the violence as I’ve now done and tried to atone for it by leading a more spiritual life. We could’ve walked away.’

‘Speak for yourself,’ said Ralph. ‘I have a wife to look after and I don’t think she’d appreciate living in a pile of brushwood out on the marshes.’

‘Can’t you hear what I’m saying?’ Vavasour reached out to grab his arm. ‘We revile this man Skalp for committing a foul murder yet you and I are just as bad in some ways. We’ve shed blood as well. We’ve sinned.’

Ralph removed his hand. ‘I’ll make amends for my sins in my own way.’

‘And what way is that, my lord?’

‘Dispensing justice and rooting out crime.’

Gervase had gone off into a meditative silence. He came out of it with a smile. ‘Starculf had another accomplice,’ he declared.

‘There were three of them?’ said Ralph.

‘Only two were party to the murder. The third was an unwitting confederate.’

‘Who was he?’

‘The person who told Starculf when the lord Richard and his steward would be away from the house. That’s what made possible the theft of the keys and everything turned on that. I can see why Starculf refused to tell us who it was! He wanted to protect her at all costs.’

‘Her?’

‘Of course,’ said Gervase. ‘It was the lady Adelaide.’

Mauger Livarot was mortified when he saw the sheriff and his officers approaching with a prisoner. It looked as if his hopes had run aground. If the killer had been caught, the elephants would have been recovered and there was no way that he could wrest them from Roger Bigot and his substantial escort. Livarot and his men waited until the other column reached them.

‘Good day, my lord!’ Bigot hailed him. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Helping in the search,’ said Livarot, looking at Starculf. ‘But it seems that we came too late. You’ve caught him without us.’

‘It was the lord Ralph who arrested him. We’ve taken charge of him now.’

‘Has the villain confessed?’

‘No,’ said Bigot, irritably. ‘Starculf claims that he’s innocent of the murder. And the wonder of it is that the lord Ralph and Gervase Bret accept his word. The man is involved somehow and I mean to find out exactly how, but he may not actually have struck down Hermer.’

‘What of the other crime?’ said Livarot. ‘The theft of the gold elephants?’

‘I stole nothing,’ asserted Starculf.

Bigot was astringent. ‘Apart from the keys to the lord Richard’s manor house.’

‘I’ve never set eyes on these gold elephants.’

‘Then where are they?’ prodded Livarot.

‘The lord Ralph has gone in search of them,’ said Bigot.

‘He knows their whereabouts?’

‘Gervase Bret does. He was acting as guide.’

‘Which way did they go?’

‘They took the road to the Henstead hundred,’ said Bigot, swivelling round to point a finger. ‘A mile or so back.’

Livarot’s hopes revived. ‘We’ll catch them up and offer our assistance.’

‘I think they can manage well enough without you, my lord.’

‘We’ve come this far,’ said the other, eager to be off. ‘We might as well ride on a little further. Who knows? We might arrive in time to be of real use.’

Giving the sheriff no time to reply, he led his men swiftly off down the track.

Skalp saw them coming. They were half a mile away when he first heard the noise of their harness and the sound of their voices carried on the light wind. One glimpse of them was all that he needed. When he recognised Gervase and saw the men-at-arms with him, he was off at once. Dropping the axe with which he had been splitting a log, he ran to his hut and disappeared inside. The old man who had been helping him to rebuild the other dwelling looked on in dismay as Skalp grabbed his dagger, thrust it into his belt, then reached up into the thatch for something that was wrapped in a piece of animal skin. He darted out of the hut and ran across to his grandmother who had come out to see what was happening.

‘Don’t tell them where I am!’ he said.

‘Who?’ asked Olova.

‘Say that I’ve gone far away.’

‘Why?’

‘Goodbye, Grandmother.’

‘Skalp!’

‘I must go.’

It was an unceremonious departure. Sprinting down the slight incline, he made for the bushes near the stream and dived behind them. Olova lost sight of him, wondering why he had gone so abruptly and in such a state of fear. Minutes later, Gervase Bret came into view with his companions. Olova folded her arms defiantly.

‘You promised that you’d leave me alone!’ she said.

‘We’ve not come to see you, Olova,’ he explained, courteously.

‘Then why have you brought soldiers with you?’

‘We need to speak to Skalp.’

‘He’s not here.’

‘Then where is he?’

‘I don’t know.’

Her eyes betrayed her. Before she could stop herself, she glanced in the direction that Skalp had taken. It was enough of a clue for Ralph Delchard to seize on. ‘He’s making a run for it!’ he cried, kicking his horse into action.

Jocelyn Vavasour was the first to respond. He gave pursuit with Ralph’s men close behind him. Gervase shot a look of apology at Olova, then joined in the hectic chase.

Ralph was not going to surrender the pleasure of overhauling a fugitive this time. As soon as he reached the stream, he caught sight of Skalp’s head, bobbing up and down in the distance. Swinging his horse round, Ralph galloped along the bank and ducked beneath the overhanging branches of a tree. Skalp vanished into some bushes and reappeared again, running at full pelt. It was all the admission of guilt that Ralph needed. He remembered the mutilated corpse that was brought into the castle. A man responsible for that crime deserved no mercy. As his destrier began to gain on his quarry, Ralph drew his sword.

Skalp was fast and guileful, dodging round bushes and threading his way through trees, seeking new cover all the time to make pursuit more difficult. Ralph was impervious to pain. As a branch lashed his face or a shrub beat his leg, he simply carried resolutely on. When he drew level with Skalp, he struck him across the back of his neck with the flat of his sword and sent him spinning on the ground. Tumbling uncontrollably, Skalp let go of his cargo and the animal skin rolled down the bank of the stream. Ralph was standing over the man within seconds, breathing heavily and holding the point of his weapon at Skalp’s throat. The prisoner was undaunted.

‘Go on!’ he invited, spreading his arms. ‘Kill me!’

‘I’ll leave that job to the sheriff,’ said Ralph, sternly. ‘I’m arresting you for the murder of Hermer, steward of the lord Richard.’

‘He was an animal. He raped a girl of sixteen.’

‘We know all about that, Skalp,’ said Gervase, still astride his horse. ‘But it doesn’t excuse what you did.’

‘This is where I found her,’ howled the youth, indicating the stream. ‘Aelfeva drowned herself here. She couldn’t bear to live after what Hermer did to her.’

Vavasour’s yell made them all look in his direction. Having jumped from his horse, he had retrieved the object that had rolled down the bank. The animal skin was unrolled to reveal two small, shiny gold elephants.

‘They’re here!’ he said in triumph. ‘I’ve found them!’

Skalp was quick to take advantage of the diversion. Rolling away from the sword, he took out his dagger, rose quickly into a kneeling position and plunged the weapon into his own heart. His face contorted with agony and his body twitched for a few seconds until, without a sound, he dropped lifelessly to the grass.

Cursing himself for his inattention, Ralph sheathed his sword and bent over to examine the corpse. Skalp had found a way to elude justice. He was for ever beyond their reach now. Gervase dismounted and heaved a sigh of regret at what had happened. ‘It’s a pity that the lord Eustace isn’t here,’ he said.

‘Why?’

‘Falling on one’s sword. He would have appreciated that gesture.’

‘Would he?’

‘That’s the way that noble Romans took their own lives.’

Ralph was contemptuous. ‘There’s nothing noble about this man, Gervase. He was a ruthless killer. Skalp has cheated us. He got away.’

‘I don’t think that his grandmother will see it quite like that.’

‘He’s been caught,’ said Vavasour. ‘That’s the main thing. The hunt is finally over. And I fulfilled my pledge to the abbey,’ he continued, holding up the miniature elephants. ‘I’ve recovered their holy treasures. They must be returned immediately.’

‘We’ll ride with you,’ said Gervase.

‘No,’ replied the other firmly.

‘But it’s too dangerous to go alone.’

‘No harm will befall me. I’m on my own now. That’s the way I wish it to be. I’m grateful for your help but we must part here. I’m going back to my life as an anchorite.’ He pointed at the corpse. ‘Far away from this kind of thing.’

Concealing the gold elephants inside his tunic, he mounted his horse and rode off.

Ralph stood up and watched him go. He had mixed feelings about Jocelyn the Anchorite, but he did not begrudge the man the right to return the treasure he had once brought all the way from Rome. Then he remembered what Gervase had just said.

‘We’re going to the abbey as well?’ he asked.

‘We have to, Ralph.’

‘Why?’

‘For proof that it was Hermer who stole the elephants in the first place.’

‘Does that matter any more?’

‘Of course,’ said Gervase. ‘Otherwise, we let the lord Richard off the hook. He sees himself as a victim of crime but I’m certain that he instigated the theft from the abbey. We need evidence of that. Before we go there, however,’ he continued, looking sadly down at the dead man, ‘we’ll have to take Skalp back to his grandmother. I don’t relish the thought of having to explain everything to her.’

‘Even Olova can’t condone what this villain did, Gervase.’

‘Maybe not, but he was still her grandson. It’s the second suicide in the family. Olova will have to bury someone else in unconsecrated ground.’

Ralph motioned to two of his men. ‘Pull out his dagger and put the body across the back of my horse.’

Drogo was tingling with excitement. Having pushed their horses hard, Mauger Livarot and his men had caught a glimpse of the column ahead of them as it reached the circle of huts. Livarot took cover behind some trees with his soldiers and sent his steward to reconnoitre. Drogo was nervous, fearing that the gold elephants would be out of their reach and knowing how vindictive his master would be as result. Making his way along the bank of the stream, he had to dive out of sight when someone came running towards him with a group of riders in pursuit. Drogo saw and heard it all. He could not wait to pass on the good tidings to Livarot. When the dead body was taken away across the back of Ralph’s horse, the steward scurried back to his master, arriving out of breath but smirking happily.

‘Well?’ said Livarot.

‘I saw them,’ replied Drogo, gulping down air. ‘I saw the gold elephants.’

‘Who has them?’

‘The lord Jocelyn-though he no longer looks like the man we once knew by that name. And he no longer talks like him either.’

‘What did you see?’

Still panting, Drogo gave a rapid account of the scene he had witnessed.

Livarot grinned. ‘Jocelyn Vavasour is on his own?’

‘Yes, my lord. Riding to the abbey with the gold.’

‘One man against all of us?’ said the other. ‘He doesn’t stand a chance.’

‘He put the elephants inside his tunic.’

‘Then we’ll take them out of there. Mount up, Drogo.’

‘Yes, my lord.’

‘We’re going to get what we came for,’ said Livarot.

Olova was overwhelmed with sadness when the body of her grandson was returned to her. Gently and tactfully, Gervase explained what had happened, but even his soft words could not ease a grandmother’s pain. She asked them to lay Skalp inside the hut that he had been rebuilding. Though there was bitterness in her voice, there was also a note of resignation. She looked from Gervase to Ralph with tears welling in her eyes. There was no point in concealment. The truth came out of her between bursts of sobbing.

‘I knew that something was wrong,’ she said. ‘Skalp went away for a couple of days. He wouldn’t tell me where he’d been. Now I know.’

‘He went to kill Hermer,’ said Gervase.

‘He was very quiet when he got back. He threw himself into his work. But something had changed in him. I could sense it.’ She brushed away a tear with, the back of her hand. ‘How did you realise that it was him?’

‘We didn’t at first,’ admitted Ralph. ‘We were after a man called Starculf. When we caught him, he protested his innocence so strongly that we were inclined to believe him. That meant we had to look elsewhere. Gervase brought us here.’

‘It had to be Skalp,’ said Gervase, simply. ‘He never forgave Hermer for what he did to that young girl. You told me that it was Skalp who found her body. He took his own life close to the same place. In fact, I think he ran there deliberately.’

Ralph was rueful. ‘I blame myself for letting him stab himself.’

‘It wasn’t your fault.’

‘It was, Gervase. I caught him. I should have taken his dagger away.’

‘You were distracted. We all were.’

There was an awkward silence. Olova glanced towards the hut where Skalp lay. ‘He was here, Master Bret,’ she mumbled. ‘Who was?’

‘StarGulf. When you came for the second time. Starculf was close by. I didn’t know it at the time, so I wasn’t lying to you. Skalp was hiding him. I only discovered that afterwards.’

‘They were accomplices, Olova.’

‘In a sense, we all were,’ she said, harshly. ‘We all wanted Hermer dead. But not at this cost. I’ve lost everyone now. My husband, my children and now my grandson. They’ve all gone. What’s to become of me?’

She went off into another fit of sobbing. Gervase put a consoling arm around her. ‘I’m sorry that it had to end this way,’ he said.

‘But it hasn’t ended yet,’ Ralph reminded him. ‘There’s unfinished business.’

‘I know.’

‘Leave us,’ said Olova, making an effort to compose herself. ‘Leave us alone to grieve in peace. You’ve done what you had to do. There’s nothing left for you to take from me now. Please go.’

After muttered farewells, Ralph and Gervase walked slowly back to their horses.

Jocelyn Vavasour did not become aware of them until he was well on his way. He was far too preoccupied, his mind grappling with the horror of Skalp’s suicide. He could not understand how the precious gifts he had given to the abbey had ended up in the hands of the young Saxon. Still, they had been rescued now. Vavasour could give them back to Abbot Alfwold and return to his solitary existence on the coast. Riding at a steady canter, he covered some distance before he decided to give his tired horse a rest. When they reached an expanse of marshland, he slowed the animal to a gentle trot. It was then that he heard the pummelling of hooves behind him. He swung his horse round, expecting to see Ralph and Gervase coming towards him, but it was a larger troop of men that was approaching. They were a hundred yards away when he recognised Mauger Livarot. The instinct that had saved him from one ambush now warned him of another.

He looked over his shoulder. The abbey was still a long way off. His horse could never outrun the fresher animals on his tail. Vavasour had no cover to use and no weapon beyond that of prayer. Sitting bolt upright in the saddle, he faced the newcomers without fear. Livarot barked an order and his men drew up in a wide circle around the anchorite.

Social niceties were brushed crudely aside. ‘Give them to me, Jocelyn,’ demanded Livarot, holding out his hand.

‘What?’

‘The gold elephants.’

‘They’re holy treasures, my lord,’ said the other with righteous indignation.

‘I want them nevertheless.’

‘They belong to the abbey of St Benet.’

‘Not any more.’

‘Would you dare to steal them?’

‘I’d dare to do much more than that,’ boasted Livarot, drawing his sword. ‘Hand them over now or I’ll cut them out of that ragged tunic of yours.’

Vavasour thought quickly. His fate was sealed. He was certain that, when he surrendered the two elephants, he would be killed on the spot. If Livarot wanted to keep the stolen property, he could not possibly leave the anchorite alive to accuse him of theft. The marshes offered countless places where a dead body could be hidden, but they also gave him an idea. As his appointed executioner moved closer, Vavasour reached inside his tunic to take out two small objects that he held up in the air. Burnished by the sun, they glowed proudly in his hands.

‘Is this what you’re after, my lord?’ he asked.

‘Those are the elephants!’ exclaimed Drogo. ‘Those are the ones I saw!’

‘Give them to me!’ yelled Livarot.

‘How much do you want them?’

‘Enough to kill.’

‘You still won’t get them,’ taunted Vavasour.

Putting both animals into the palm of one hand, he flung them as far into the marshes as he could. Mauger Livarot went berserk. What he saw disappearing into the water was his one chance of marrying the lady Adelaide. Emitting a howl of rage, he dropped from the saddle and went lumbering after the elephants, splashing through water and kicking his way through beds of reeds. Single-mindedness was his downfall. He lurched towards the spot where he had seen the objects fall, oblivious of the dangers, and water suddenly gave way to quicksand. Instead of moving forward at speed, he was sucked inexorably downwards, the weight of his hauberk working against him. His men looked on in horror as their master was suddenly waist deep and sinking.

‘Help!’ shouted Livarot, threshing impotently. ‘Get me out!’

Jocelyn Vavasour was the first to go to his rescue. Spurning his own safety, he ran to the edge of the pool and stretched out a hand. But the stricken man was tantalisingly out of reach. When one of the soldiers tried to grab Livarot’s hand, he fell into the quicksand himself and had to be dragged out by the others.

‘Do something!’ begged Livarot. ‘Quickly!’

There was no salvation. The more he struggled, the firmer hold the quicksand took on him, pulling him slowly and relentlessly down until only his head and hands were visible. After one last deafening cry, Livarot vanished from sight for ever beneath the loose, wet, treacherous pool of sand. His men were stunned. They stood there in grim silence until Drogo looked for revenge. Swinging round, he pointed accusingly at Vavasour.

‘There’s the man responsible!’ he said. ‘Throw him in there as well.’

Before the order could be obeyed, however, eight riders could be seen coming towards them. Livarot’s men hesitated. They did not want witnesses to an act of cold-blooded murder. Vavasour was relieved and grateful to see Ralph Delchard and Gervase Bret coming to his rescue. Detaching himself from the others, he waved an arm in welcome. The newcomers brought their horses to a halt. Ralph sensed the tense atmosphere. He recognised Drogo.

‘Where’s the lord Mauger?’ he asked.

The steward looked despondently across at the quicksand.

‘He’s still searching for two gold elephants,’ said Vavasour.

Brother Joseph was in the abbey church when he was summoned. Fearing a reprimand and still writhing with self-reproach, the sacristan hurried off across the cloister garth. When he was admitted to Abbot Alfwold’s lodging, he was surprised to find three visitors there. Ralph Delchard and Gervase Bret had escorted Jocelyn Vavasour to make sure that he arrived without further mishap. The anchorite exchanged warm greetings with Joseph then raised his eyebrows hopefully.

‘I’ve just heard the most remarkable story,’ said the abbot, soulfully. ‘It seems that our holy treasures were taken by a man called Hermer, steward to Richard de Fontenel. When he stayed at the abbey, Hermer gave us the false name of Starculf. This same Hermer was murdered and the treasures stolen by someone else. Earlier today, they were reclaimed from the thief by our courageous visitors.

The sacristan gurgled with joy. ‘We have them back, Father Abbot?’

‘Not exactly, Brother Joseph.’

‘But you said that they’d been recovered.’

‘Recovered then lost again, I fear.’

‘Employed to save a life,’ explained Ralph. ‘When someone tried to take them from Jocelyn by force, he flung them into the marshes. Two gold elephants are at the bottom of some quicksand with Mauger Livarot.’

Joseph paled. ‘The lord Mauger?’

‘You’ll hear a full account later,’ promised the abbot. ‘Suffice it to say that the Lord has saved a good man and punished an evil one.’

‘Yet we’ve lost our treasures, Father Abbot.’

‘Not exactly,’ said Vavasour, stepping forward. ‘There’s something that I haven’t mentioned so far because I wanted you to be here when I did, Brother Joseph. You know what significance those gold elephants held for me and I was touched by the way in which you and the holy brothers revered them.’

‘We did, Jocelyn. We mourn their disappearance.’

‘Mourn them no more,’ said the other, reaching inside his tunic.

To the astonishment of them all, he brought out the two miniature gold elephants and handed them to the sacristan. Joseph danced on his toes with pleasure. Abbot Alfwold had to hold back tears. Ralph shook his head in wonderment.

‘You told us that you threw them into the marshes?’

‘It’s true,’ admitted Vavasour with a smile. ‘Two elephants did get hurled there but they weren’t made of gold, as these are. They were carved out of wood. I brought them with me when we left my little home. That’s the irony of it,’ he added with a sigh. ‘The lord Mauger didn’t die in pursuit of holy treasures blessed by the Pope. He went into that quicksand after two pieces of driftwood that had dried yellow in the sun.’

Ralph grinned. ‘I’ll wonder what he’ll say when he finds them.’