Company of Liars (39 page)

Suddenly Rodrigo stopped dead and pointed. ‘Over there,’ he hissed. A pair of eyes, low to the ground, glowed in the flame. For a moment neither we nor it moved, then
it turned its head and began to slip away. We caught sight of the red bushy tail and breathed a sigh of relief; a fox, only a fox. We continued on our way. Our eyes and ears began to hurt with the strain of looking and listening for any sign of the wolf, but there was none.

There was no sign of Jofre either on the road, even though the curfew bell in the town had rung an hour since. We reached the town gate. A steep embankment, topped with a wattle fence, marked the town boundary. It was in poor repair, not much defence against anyone except old dotards like me who can no longer scramble over fences. A town like this could not afford a wall. As we expected, the cart gate in the wooden gatehouse which straddled the road was firmly shut.

I rapped on the wicket gate with my staff. A small grilled shutter in the gate opened, revealing the head of the night watchman.

‘What's your business?’ he growled.

‘We come looking for a lad.’

‘No accounting for taste.’

I ignored the remark. ‘This man is the boy's master. He's come to fetch him home. The boy should have been back hours ago. You know what these young lads are, always chasing some pretty girl. Can we come in and find him?’

‘Gates are locked for the night.’

‘All the more reason to find him and to fetch him home. This lad's a bit of a handful once he's had a drink or two, he gets rowdy, disturbing good folks in their houses, chasing their daughters, smashing things. You don't want to be dealing with endless complaints on your watch, now do you? Let us in and we'll haul him out of here before he causes any trouble.’

The watchman hesitated.

I pushed a coin through the grill at him. ‘For your trouble.’

That seemed to persuade him and the small wicket gate in the main door swung open.

Once inside we described Jofre to him, but he only shrugged, impatient to return to warming his backside at his fire. He told us no lads had passed through this gate, but then he had only been on watch since the curfew bell and Jofre had probably been in the town long before that.

We walked three abreast down the main street, hoping that we might see Jofre making his way towards the gate. The town looked even more squalid under the yellow-orange glow of the night torches. Most of the houses were dark and shuttered and only the glimmer of candlelight here and there showed through the cracks. But despite the curfew bell there were still people abroad. The taverns were open and every now and then a group of revellers would spill out. Occasionally a man would be thrown out, landing on his backside in the street if he was lucky, or face down in the sewer if he was not. The alleys and snickets were darker than before, but the odd squeal or yell which emanated from their depths suggested they were not deserted.

We drew level with the Red Dragon Inn. It was brightly lit and sounds of raucous laughter rang out from inside. However hard up they were, there were plenty of people determined to make the most of this Christmastide, whatever the rumours of pestilence or perhaps because of them.

The door of the inn opened and a girl threw a pail of slops out into the street. We all jumped back.

‘Careful, girl,’ I yelled. ‘Mind where you're throwing that.’

She looked up. It was the same serving wench we had seen lounging outside the inn on the day we came past.

‘Beg your pardon, sirs, I…’ She suddenly smiled in recognition. ‘Aren't you the gentlemen came by with a wagon a
few days back?’ She put the pail down and tugged at the front of her dress, revealing even more of her ample breasts. ‘Managed to shake off that old tight-arse who was leading the mare, did you? Does he ever crack a smile, that one? If you're looking for a good time, you've come to the right place. You come along in with me, sirs. We'll soon see you right.’

I took a step forward. ‘Maybe another time, but just now we're looking for the young lad who was with us. I don't know if you remember him. Slim, dark hair and brown eyes.’

‘I remember him all right. Came here a couple of nights back with the mummers. Good-looking lad, nice manners, gentle too. He could share my bed anytime and there's not many I'd say that about. But he wasn't interested in getting between my sheets, if you get my drift. Always the way with the good-looking ones, either they're monks or mollys.’

‘Have you seen him tonight?’

‘Maybe.’

I fumbled in my purse; Rodrigo saw what was required and proffered a coin. The girl took it with a small bob and tucked it into her bodice.

‘He's in the stew.’ She caught Rodrigo's arm and pulled him a little way up the street until we came to the entrance to a dark alleyway. ‘Up there second right. You'll see the sign.’

‘You are sure he is there?’

‘I'm sure. Someone in the Red Dragon saw him go in. More to the point, they saw who he went in with.’ Her smile vanished and she gripped Rodrigo's arm urgently. ‘You want to get him out of there, quick as you can. Like I say, he's a nice lad and I wouldn't want to see that pretty face of his messed up.’

Rodrigo looked alarmed. ‘You think someone is going to hurt him? Why?’

‘Look, if anyone asks, I haven't said anything, right?’

We nodded.

‘The other night when he came in with the mummers, he started getting friendly with one of our local lads, more than friendly, if you get my drift. If your lad had gone for anyone else, no one would care what he did or who he did it with, so long as he could pay for it, but Ralph is trouble. His old man is Master of the Butchers’ Guild. He owns a deal of property in the town, fingers in a lot of pies, and he'd stick them in a lot more if he could. I reckon he knows the way his son leans, must do, but he won't have it. He's arranged a marriage between Ralph and the daughter of a baron who owns a dozen farms round these parts. You can see how it would be a good match; the baron produces the beasts, the butcher slaughters them. Keeps all the profits in the family, especially as the girl is the baron's only surviving child.

‘Trouble is, the baron wants grandchildren, lots of them, and he wants a son-in-law who'll put his back into the getting of them. If the girl's father gets a whiff of anything amiss before the wedding, it'll be off quicker than milk in a thunderstorm and Ralph's old man wouldn't take too kindly to that. Take it from me, you want to get your lad away from Ralph before his old man gets wind of it, that's if he hasn't already.’ She looked round anxiously. ‘There's many round here in debt to him and might think to pay it off with a little tattle.’

We thanked her and turned into the narrow little alley she had indicated. The overhang of the darkened houses blocked out the sky so that only a slim ribbon of stars could be seen between them. The alley stank of piss and worse,
but fortunately whatever filth we were walking on had frozen over and we did not have to wade through it.

As the serving girl had told us, the stew was easy enough to find by the sign of the bath over the door. The woman who admitted us was friendly until she discovered we had not come to bathe and told us to clear off. But when we described Jofre, her attitude changed and she seemed grudgingly grateful for our arrival.

‘Aye, well, you'd best get him out of here. I don't want trouble.’ She jerked her head in the direction of one of the rooms. ‘He's in there.’

We entered. The warm room was hot and steamy, smelling of wet wood overlaid by the clean sweet smell of thyme, bay and mint. Three big wooden bathtubs stood in a circle in the centre of the floor with triangular wooden canopies over the top to shield the bathers from draughts and keep the steam in. The bath-house owner clearly took great care of the customers for the tubs were lined with linen to prevent splinters. Between the tubs were several small tables. Ewers of ale and wine, and plates of roasted meats, cheese, pickled vegetables and fruits preserved in honey lay within easy reach of the bathers. I felt my stomach growl with hunger.

We didn't recognize the two young men and the girl in the tub facing the door. They wallowed up to their necks in the hot herbed water, naked save for cloths wrapped around their hair. I longed to join them. The thought of soaking my cold aching limbs in a hot tub for an hour or two seemed like heaven. It's years since I have been able to do that. Stewing in a hot tub is one of the many pleasures I have had to forego.

The occupants of the other two tubs were screened by the canopies. We moved forward. One of the young men, catching sight of us, raised his hands.

‘We're full here. Try the other rooms.’ Then, grinning at Rodrigo, ‘We can always squeeze you in though.’

Rodrigo said gruffly, ‘I have not come to bathe. I have come for my pupil.’

There was a sudden violent splash from the third tub as if someone had been startled.

I walked round. There were only two in this tub, a young man older than Jofre by a couple of years, stockier too. Even with his hair concealed by an unflattering linen cap, he was good-looking with his hazel eyes, square jaw and full lips, in many ways not unlike Osmond. The other occupant of the bath, pressed as far back under the canopy as he could get, was Jofre, his eyes wide with alarm.

In the light of the tavern girl's warning, I knew we needed to do this as quickly and quietly as possible. It was important that Rodrigo didn't lose his temper, not here. I turned to him. ‘Go find one of the serving wenches to bring him his clothes.’

Rodrigo hesitated, but Cygnus grasped the situation at once and led him away.

I turned back to Jofre. ‘Come on, lad, get yourself dried. It's after curfew; we need to get back to the gate before the watch changes.’

But Jofre, mutinous now after his initial scare, was not in a mood to come quietly. ‘Why should I?’

His face was flushed and I realized at once that the cause had as much to do with the half-empty ewer of wine on the table as the heat of the bath.

The other lad, whom I took to be Ralph, draped his arm casually around Jofre's wet shoulders.

‘He doesn't have to go. He can stay the night in the town.’

‘He's apprentice to a master and his master bids him go.
He's bound by law to obey him. As you, Ralph, are bound to obey your father's wishes.’

He looked startled that I knew his name.

‘And what, sir, is my father to do with you?’

‘Nothing at all, and I'd like to keep it that way to preserve all our skins. If you care anything at all for Jofre, you'll encourage him to leave now for his sake, if not for yours.’

By the time Rodrigo and Osmond came back into the room with his clothes, Jofre had been persuaded to clamber unsteadily out of the bath and was attempting to dry himself. He allowed the serving maid to dress him. When the girl had finished, Jofre tossed a handful of coins on the table, with the carelessness of a young lord. He glowered at Rodrigo, then leaned over the bath and kissed Ralph passionately and defiantly on the mouth, before finally allowing himself to be conducted outside. It crossed my mind to wonder where he had got the money, but this was not the time to ask him, for as we emerged into the alley, I thought I saw a man leaning against the wall of a house a few yards away watching us. I took a firm grasp of my stave, but when we reached the place there was no one to be seen. I was annoyed with myself for jumping at shadows; still, the quicker we got out of the town, the more relieved I'd be.

Jofre walked between us, shivering in the frosty night air after the heat of the bath. He was silent and I prayed that Rodrigo would have the wisdom to hold his tongue as well, at least until we were safely back in the chantry. There were too many dark alleys and lurking shadows in this place to want to draw attention to ourselves. I glanced back over my shoulder several times, but could see no one following, though that did not make me feel any easier. There could have been a whole army hidden in the shadows. Rodrigo and Cygnus glanced nervously around too at every group of
men who passed us, but no one challenged us and we finally saw the town gate ahead of us.

The watchman held out his hand for another coin to open the gate. ‘So you found the young rascal, did you? Taking him home for a thrashing, are you?’ He chuckled with satisfaction. ‘You'll smart for this one, boy.’

I felt Jofre stiffen beside me and whispered, ‘Hold your tongue, lad,’ as I pushed him through the gate. I gulped in the clean cold air of the night with relief. All we had to worry about now was the wolf.

18. Birth and Death

The following day was Childermas, named for the day they massacred the Holy Innocents and the day Judas Iscariot was born, the unluckiest day of the year, they say. Some people refuse to get out of their beds on Childermas. They think the day so unlucky that they won't venture on any journey or sell goods at the market, or buy any beast, for they say, what is begun on Childermas Day will never be finished. And that particular Childermas seemed determined to live up to its ill-fated reputation.

The day began no worse than any other. We'd managed to bring Jofre back to the chantry without incident or argument and, thankfully, without encountering the wolf. Zophiel had doubtless been ready with a few well-chosen words, but he didn't get the chance to deliver them for Rodrigo hustled Jofre straight down to the crypt without giving Zophiel time to say more than, ‘So the wolf did not devour him. What a disappointment.’