The Wicked Winter

Chapter Fourteen

I swam up through the mists of unconsciousness to find Brother Simeon bending over me, his narrow features alive with concern.

'Chapman! What's happened? Are you all right?'

I sat up slowly, tentatively stretching each limb to make sure that no bones were broken. Satisfied on that score, I became aware of my throbbing head and the fact that I was feeling dizzy.

'Someone pushed me,' I said, 'from the top of the stairs.'

The friar nodded. 'I wondered if something untoward might have happened when I found you like this.' He added by way of explanation, 'When I awoke from my doze, you were missing, and Martha Grindcobb told me that you'd gone out, in her opinion to play at dice with the grooms in the stables. However, remembering your words of this morning, I made straight for the tower. As I approached, a man came out of the door, but when he saw me, he turned to his right and disappeared along the path through the scrubland.'

'Did you see who it was?' I demanded with an eagerness that once again made my head spin.

'Unfortunately, no. I was too far away, and whoever it was had his hood pulled forward, concealing his face.' The friar helped me painfully to my feet. 'At first, I thought it must be you, then I realised the figure was too short of stature.

Furthermore, your cloak is dun-coloured and his was reddish-brown. Here, sit down a while.' And he guided me to the stool by the table.

Into my mind sprang an instant picture of Fulk Disney as I had seen him that morning, wrapped in a thick, russet-hued woollen cloak. I must have uttered his name aloud, because Brother Simeon looked sharply at me and raised his eyebrows inquiringly.

I told him of my earlier encounter with Fulk and the conclusions I had drawn from it. 'I also met him in the passageway,' I added, 'just before I quit the house. He either had unfinished business of his own in the tower, or he suspected my destination and decided to follow me.

Whichever it was, because I delayed in order to pay a visit to Mistress Empryngham, he arrived first; and when I did, finally, get here, he must have concealed his presence by keeping one floor ahead of me and watching me from the top of each flight of stairs. While I was in Lady Cederwell's chapel, he was on the steps leading to the look-out platform.I broke off with a sudden cry, struck by the full import of what I had said. I fumbled in the pouch at my belt, unhooked it and shook it upside down, but as I had feared it was empty.The letter to Brother Simeon had gone.

I explained this to the friar and his manner underwent a change. Any compassion he had been feeling for me was replaced by exasperation.

'You had her list of accusations in your possession and you allowed them to be stolen?' he thundered. 'You incompetent dim-wit! You jackass! You fool!' It needed all my strength of will not to retaliate in kind.

'How was I to know that there was anyone else in the tower?' I protested.'I had no sure idea of what I might find, nor indeed if I should discover anything at all.' I added, in a bid to regain his sympathy, 'A fall like that could have broken my neck.'

'True,' he admitted, relenting a trifle. 'What saved you?'

'I don't know. I think I must have been aware, just a second or two before I was pushed, that someone was behind me. Perhaps I felt his breath on my cheek. But, for whatever reason, I instinctively jumped sideways from the staircase in the very instant that Fulk shoved me in the back'. Tenderly, I fingered the bump which was swelling above my left eye.

Brother Simeon was silent for several moments, then hunched his thin shoulders.

'I suppose you're not altogether to blame,' he said grudgingly. 'But you had the evidence against Sir Hugh and Maurice Cederwell in your hands and now it's gone. It's what I call careless, Chapman. Very careless! Without it, there is nothing I can do. The wicked will continue to flourish and enjoy the fruits of their wrongdoing because there are no charges I can now lay against them. Never having spoken to Lady Cederwell, I have no means of proving why she asked me to visit her here at the manor.'

'Not unless somebody else would be willing to testify against them,' I agreed.

The friar curled his lip. 'Small chance of that. Morals are tax everywhere nowadays. The sins of the flesh are no longer regarded as important. King Edward's court sets the example for the rest of the country. Do you seriously suppose that any inhabitant of Cederwell Manor would jeopardise his or her position in order to bring allegations of adultery and worse against the master and his heir? But I tell you this, Chapman!' Brother Simeon's eyes glowed with zealous fire. 'Wherever God may call upon me to travel in the future, however far afield the journey may take me, I shall never forget Sir Hugh Cederwell and the saintly young life that he has destroyed. If I can do him a disservice in any way whatsoever, it shall be done.' I gave an involuntary shiver. Such malevolence was disturbing. Then I realised that he was looking at me. 'You could stand witness,' he suggested. 'You could swear to what you overheard this morning between Sir Hugh and Mistress Lynom.'

I carefully refrained from shaking my head, but my answer was still emphatic.

'No! I won't repeat things I was never intended to hear.'

'You're prepared to condone immorality, that's what you mean.' The friar was contemptuous. 'You're like so many of the young; evil doesn't disgust you as it should. Well, I suppose I ought to have known better than to ask. Can you walk now? You have a nasty swelling on your forehead. It's time you returned to the house and had it tended.'

I rose unsteadily to my feet. 'What do we say about what's happened?'

'What can we say?' was the acid retort. 'We have no evidence that Fulk Disney attacked you. He has only to deny his presence in the tower and he'll be believed. You may be certain that he'll have rid himself of Lady Cederwell's letter by this time. It's been tom up and scattered to the wind, lost amongst the snowdrifts.'

'Very well,' I concurred, 'I shall say that curiosity drove me to look around the place and that I felt down the stairs. You found me. It's the truth after all.'

He nodded, and we descended the final flight of stairs to let ourselves out into the open air. I glanced briefly along what was visible of the path through the scrubland, but knew that at present I was in no fit state to go exploring. With a sigh, I followed Friar Simeon as he made his way back towards the house.

'I don't know!' Martha Grindcobb scolded. 'A widower with a child did you say you are? More like a great boy who's never grown up!' She fussed around me, making a poultice of rue and borage mixed with honey which she applied to the lump over my eye, holding it in place with a long strip of linen wound about my head. Brother Simeon made little attempt to hide his mirth at the spectacle, and i was thankful that none of the kitchen-maids was present. The three of them, Martha told me, had been summoned by Phillipa Talke to assist with their mistress's laying-out. The body had finally lost all of its rigor and could be decently washed and clothed, ready for burial.

With this information and such knowledge as I possessed, I tried to work out the time of Lady Cederwell's death the preceding day, but my senses began to swim again and I almost keeled sideways off my stool.

'You'd best lie down, lad,' Martha ordered. She cast a disparaging glance around the kitchen. 'There's no comfort here. Give him a hand, Friar, and help him to the men's dormitory. There'll be spare cots until bedtime, and Roger can snatch an hour or two's rest before supper. I daresay,' she added to me, 'that you'll be black and blue all over by tomorrow rnoming, but that's your own fault. All the same, I'll give you a drink of lettuce juice to make you sleep. Why did you want to go poking around in that horrible old tower anyway? Tell me that if you can.'

Unfortunately I could make no answer without revealing far more than I was prepared to, and allowed her to reproach me with what she regarded as my childish escapade until Simeon and I were out of earshot. We emerged once again into the fresh air to find that it had stopped snowing, but was even colder than before. The sky was like lead, and although only an hour or so past noon, the thin winter daylight was already receding, leaving behind it a grey and ghostly stillness.

The men's sleeping quarters were immediately beneath the women's dormitory at the back of the great hall, the shuttered window protected by the gallery's overhang and therefore making the room a little warmer than the more draughty upstairs chamber. Otherwise, it was almost a replica of the one above, with its row of wooden-framed cots, its solitary clothes chest and a table bearing candies and tinder-box.

The place was empty but for ourselves, and the friar thankfully let me drop on to the nearest cot, glad to be relieved of my weight. Then, having helped me remove my boots, he felt free to go.

'Stay there for a while,' he advised, 'and try to rest. If you're still awake at suppertime, I'll bring you a bowl of broth.'

'Don't bother,' I murmured drowsily, Martha Grindcobb's potion beginning to do its work. 'If I'm awake, I'll get up for some proper food.'

I heard him give a rare snort of laughter before I was engulfed in a black tide of unconsciousness. I spiralled down and down into those depths of sleep which is the nearest approach in this earthly life that we ever come to death. We see nothing, we hear nothing, we are nothing, while time drifts by, all unheeded, over our heads…

Something, some noise, was forcing me upwards again towards the light. It was penetrating my senses, making me toss from side to side in the narrow cot, forcing me to sit up, to listen. The sound was coming from above, a woman's voice, screaming with terror. My legs felt like leaden weights attached to my body, and for what seemed to be several minutes, but was probably only seconds, they refused to obey me. At last, however, I dragged myself to my feet and staggered to the dormitory door, to find on opening it that it was now almost dark. I must have slept for several hours and it was nearly evening.

The screaming had abated a little, but already other people were arriving on the scene. As I stood there still somewhat confused, Martha Grindcobb and Brother Simeon rushed out of the back door, closely followed, but at a safe distance, by the three kitchen-maids, all agog with the anticipation of some unnamed horror. Simultaneously, Mistress Lynom and Maurice Cederwell emerged from their bedchambers and appeared side-by-side on the balcony overhead. Moments later Tostig Steward and Phillipa Talke came out of the house, preceding by only a matter of seconds Sir Hugh himself, testily demanding to be told what was wrong. The noise had even penetrated as far as the stables, and distant voices raised in inquiry, coupled with the flicker of lamplight gilding the snow, heralded the advent of the grooms.

'What is it? What's going on?' Sir Hugh pushed his way through the rest of us, who were gathered together nervously at the foot of the steps, and mounted to the gallery. 'Ursula, what has happened? Are you all right?'

The lady, obviously touched by this concern for her safety, unbent a little towards him.

'The sound is coming from the women's dormitory. I think it must be your sister-in-law, Mistress Empryngham. There is no one else in there. But take care! You don't know yet the cause of her distress. There may be someone hidden inside the room. '

I saw Sir Hugh nod brusquely, then stride forward, at the same time calling on the rest of us men to support him. The friar clapped me on the shoulder, urging me ahead of him, but the Capsgrave brothers and Jasper had already overtaken us, climbing the snow-covered steps as fast as they were able without slipping and falling. There was as yet, I noted, no sign of Hamon.

On reaching the women's dormitory, all of us clustering around the open door, we could just make out the figure of Adela Empryngham seated on the side of her cot, whimpering and shivering. Mistress Lynom at once went forward to sit beside her, placing a comforting arm around her shoulders. Sir Hugh lit a candle and held it aloft, its guttering beam illuminating his sister-in-law's white, terrified features.

'There, there, my dear,' Mistress Lynom consoled her.

'Have you had a bad dream?'

The convulsive sobs lessened slightly and the bent head was raised as Adela considered this suggestion.

'I… Oh… Could it have been, do you think? I… I was sure that someone was standing in the doorway… I… I was certain.'

'You woke suddenly while you were still riding the night mare,' Mistress Lynom soothed her. 'There's no one here.

Hold the candle higher, Hugh, and let her see for herself.' The knight obliged, slowly spinning full circle on his heel to reveal that no one was hiding in any of the corners. This seemed to convince Adela that the incident had been nothing more than the figment of a dream, but she was still very frightened, and Mistress Lynom, taking charge, insisted that a truckle bed was set up immediately alongside her own in the guest chamber.

'She must share with me. After all that has happened today, we cannot leave her on her own again, and it will be a few hours yet before the other women go to their rest.' Pressing a hand to my head to stop its buzzing, I stepped forward.

'Mistress Empryngham, this person you saw standing in the doorway, was it a man or a woman?'

She looked at me, confused and bewildered. 'I couldn't see. It was just a shadow.'

Maurice Cederwell, who was standing behind his father, demanded roughly, 'Who asked you to poke your nose in, Chapman? Adela herself agrees that it was all a dream.' There was a murmur of assent from the others.

Nevertheless, I would have pursued my inquiries had it not been apparent that Mistress Empryngham was in no fit state to give any sensible answers to my questions. But as we all began to go our separate ways — Phillipa Talke to arrange for the setting up of the truckle bed in the guest bedchamber, Martha, Ethelwynne, Edith and Jenny Tonge to the kitchen to finish preparing supper, Tostig to oversee the laying of the table in the great hall and Sir Hugh to help his sister-inlaw into the room next door- I touched Nicholas Capsgrave on the shoulder, just as he, his brother and Jasper were about to return to the stables.

'You were one of the first people up here with Sir Hugh.' He nodded. 'Was this closed or open?' And I indicated the dormitory door.

Nicholas hesitated, but Jude cut in, 'It was open.' 'You're sure of that?'

'I'm positive.'

'Thank you,' I said, but when I offered no explanation for my question, they shrugged and descended the steps.

'What was that about?' the friar wanted to know.

'Don't you see?' I whispered as we stood aside to allow Sir Hugh and Mistress Lynom, supporting Adela between them, to pass along the gal!ery to the neighbouring room.

'No one in her right mind would sleep with the door wide open in this weather.'

'So?' Simeon frowned.

'So if Mistress Empryngham had simply had a bad dream, the door would have been fast shut.' I was growing impatient at his paucity of understanding. 'Surely even you can see that!'

My companion bridled. 'There's no need for that tone of voice. You can't expect everyone to think of these things. We're not all interested in solving crimes.'

'Not if it means bringing the criminal to justice?'

'"Vengeance is mine, I will repay saith the Lord",' was his only answer.

I was about to remind him of his declared intention to do Sir Hugh a disservice if ever he got the chance, when my attention was distracted. Just ahead of us, Maurice Cederwell had reached his own bedchamber door and pushed it open.

As he stepped across the threshold, from within the room I heard someone ask, 'Is everything quiet now?' It was a man's voice, a voice I recognised. The speaker, unless I was very much mistaken, was Fulk Disney.

I refused, in spite of Martha Grindcobb's chidings, to retum to my cot in the men's dormitory. I was wide awake now, even if my body was aching all over, and in no mood for lying alone in the dark and the cold. I needed warmth and light, although I could have wished for more peace and quiet than was to be had in the kitchen in which to pursue my thoughts. Above all, however, I was ravenously hungry, for very little in those days ever impaired my appetite, and I was able to persuade Martha to find me some black bread and goat's milk cheese which I ate together with a handful of small spring leeks which had been dried and stored. (I subsequently noticed, throughout the evening, people kept their distance from me, or if by chance they got too close, they did not inhale too deeply.)

The friar, who had disappeared upstairs to the chapel to celebrate Vespers, chided me on his return for not going with him.

'You are not as strict in your religious observance, Roger, as I could wish to see you. I trust you're not a prey to any of the heretical views which prevail in so many quarters nowadays. I have heard it said that even the Duke of Gloucester possesses a Lollard Bible.'

'He also has the Imitatio Christi of Thomas â Kempis,' I answered without thinking, and saw Simeon's eyebrows shoot up in surprise at my unguarded comment. Fortunately, at that precise moment, raised voices, one angry, the other tearful and protesting, were to be heard in the passageway outside. Moments later, Phillipa Talke appeared dragging Lady Cederwell's little maid by the arm, while over one of her own hung a cloak of thick, russet-dyed wool.

'What's the matter?' Martha Grindcobb snapped, annoyed by this rowdy intrusion into her domain.

'I've just caught Audrey coming out of the mistress's room carrying this!' the housekeeper said venomously, and held the cloak aloft. 'The little thief!' she added.

'I'm not a thief!' the girl denied fearfully, her eyes brimming with tears which trickled slowly down her face.

'The mistress promised it to me only three days ago. She said she'd never liked it. She said she had no need of it and that it was more blessed to give it to someone who had.' Phillipa Talke brayed with laughter. 'Oh, did she indeed? A likely story! Where's your proof, eh? Did she write her wishes down? Or make them known to anybody else?' Audrey Lambspringe wiped her face with the back of her hand, and then blew her nose in her fingers.

'She might've done.' Her tone was defiant. 'I don't know. But I do know that's what she told me.'

'Liar!' Mistress Talke accompanied the word with a vicious slap which sent the poor girl reeling.

Brother Simeon and I both got to our feet ready to intervene, but Martha Grindcobb was before us. She pushed between the two women, standing with arms akimbo.

'That'll do,' she warned the housekeeper. 'I'll have no brawling in my kitchen. And I won't have you taking your disappointment and bad temper out on the child, either.' She turned to Audrey. 'All the same, you shouldn't have removed the cloak from the mistress's room like that, especially not with her still lying there, cold. Mistress Talke'll have to report the matter to Sir Hugh, so you can tell him then what you've just told us. Depends whether or not he'll believe you.'

'Lady Cederwell did say I was to have the cloak, she did!' Audrey declared, the tears starting to flow once more. 'Mine's all worn and threadbare. She said it would keep me warm in the winter.'

'She wouldn't give a beautiful thing like this to you!' Mistress Talke was scathing. 'The master bought it for my lady from a rich merchant in Campden, or so she told me. Before they were married it was, and it must have cost him a pretty penny.' She fingered the rich wool covetously, then glanced at me. 'What do you think, Chapman? You must know the value of such material.'

'It certainly wouldn't have been cheap,' I replied, reluctant to be drawn into the argument. 'It's made of the best Cotswold wool by the look of it.'

Brother Simeon nodded, drawing down the comers of his mouth in an expression of deepest disapproval.

'Wool of that sort would be worth twelve or thirteen marks the sack. Think what could be done for the glory of God and all His works with money like that. Lady Cederwell was quite right to despise the vanities of this world, but wrong in promising it to you, my child. She should have sold the cloak and given the money to the Church.'

Behind his back, Martha Grindcobb grimaced at me, rolling her eyes heavenwards and wrinkling up her nose. To Phillipa Talke and Audrey Lambspringe she said, 'You'd best go to the master at once and get this thing settled. We've enough troubles hanging over our heads as it is, without accusations of theft into the bargain.'

The housekeeper was only too ready. 'I intend to! I don't need your advice on what's right and proper, Mistress Grindcobb! Follow me, girl!'

She and Audrey left the kitchen as abruptly as they had entered it, the younger woman trailing behind the older. I watched them go, my gaze fixed on the russet cloak draped across Phillipa Talke's left arm. And a thought began to stir uneasily at the back of my mind.