[Roger the Chapman 04] - The Holy Innocents (21 page)

'Here's a to-do,' she said, wiping her hands on her apron. 'You've heard, no doubt. Indeed, the whole town must have heard the news by now. Two attacks by the outlaws last night, as far afield as Dartington and Bow Creek. And murder done in the latter place, they're saying.'

My blood ran cold.

'Bow Creek? That's where Grizelda Harbourne has her holding. Is she safe? Who's been murdered? Have any names been mentioned?'

Jacinta plumped down on a stool opposite, one hand creeping up to her mouth.

'Grizeldat I'd forgotten her, God forgive me! But I know nothing but what people are saying; that great damage was done that way. A house burned down. And a body discovered in the ashes, early this morning, by two woodsmen on their way to work in the forest. Now, lad, what can I bring you?' But my appetite had deserted me. I was gripped by a credble fear that something had happened to Grizelda. I jumped to my feet, ignoring the landlady's protests that I could not leave until I had eaten.

'I must go at once,' I said. 'I must find out if Grizelda is safe.'

A gleam appeared in Jacinta's eyes, the outlaws momentarily forgotten as she scented gossip.

'So, that's the way the wind's blowing, is it? A little long in the tooth for you, I should have thought, but a handsome enough woman. And age brings experience, they say.' She let out a raucous cackle of laughter.

I ignored her and made for the ale-house door. All I could think about was getting to Bow Creek as quickly as possible.

By now, the morning's traffic had increased so much, both in and out of the town, that I had no difficulty obtaining a ride on an empty haywain, which had been relieved of its load and was returning in the direction of the Harbourne River.

The driver, who had lodged overnight in the Priory guesthall, knew no more of events than I did, and was hurrying home to reassure himself that his wife and children had not been harmed.

'I can't help worrying, although my holding's a good half mile to the west of where they say the robbers struck, towards Luscombe way.'

Nevertheless, his natural anxiety caused him to make all speed, and we covered the ground between Totnes and Ashprington while the sun was still low, and the eastern sky streaked with the faint, luminous pink of early morning. One or two fleecy clouds now and then obscured the face of the sun, but they were trembling and insubstantial. It was going to be another warm and rainless day.

I said goodbye to the hayman on the outskirts of the village, making my way through the trees by the narrow track which Grizelda and I had traversed together two days earlier. My nose picked up the faint and acrid smell of burning, and I quickened my pace, half-hoping that I might see some evidence of the outlaws' villainy when I reached the huddled duster of houses, which would mean that Grizelda's holding was safe. But although there was a great deal of feverish activity, with some of the younger women crying hysterically into their aprons, or clinging, pale and wide-eyed to their menfolk, there was no sign of damage; no smoking ruin which would indicate that it was here and not elsewhere that the outlaws had struck.

A sergeant, wearing the Zouche livery and despatched from the castle garrison to make inquiries, was gentling his uneasy horse as the villagers swarmed around him, the men all talking at once, anxious to give their different versions of what might, or might not have been heard or observed during the night. I approached a stout, elderly matron, seemingly calm enough to answer questions, standing on the edge of the little crowd.

'What's to do? Rumours in the town say that a house was burned to the ground by the outlaws, and someone murdered.'

The woman nodded, without turning her head to glance at me, but keeping her eyes fixed on what was happening in front of her.

'Rumour says true for once, then. Grizelda Harbottrne's cottage was utterly destroyed, and a body's been discovered in the ashes.'

For a moment, my voice failed me. Finally, however, I managed to croak, 'Grizelda's?'

My informant did look round at this, a little frown puckering her forehead.

'Thanks be to Our Lady, no! Are you a friend of hers, lad?' As I waited for the agitated beating of my heart to subside, I considered the question. Could I honestly claim to be Grizelda's friend? I had only met her the day before yesterday. Yet, in that short space of time, I had not only grown to know and like her, but I also wished to know her better.

What her feelings were for me, though, I had no idea. Perhaps I had no right to lay any demands upon her.

'Let's just say I'm a chance acquaintance of hers, but one who is worded for her safety. You know for a certainty that it was not her body found in the ashes?'

The woman smiled broadly. 'Lad, look over yonder. Wearing the blue gown. Grizelda. There, she's seen you. She's coming towards us.'

By the time the woman had finished speaking, Grizelda had skirted the crowd and was beside me, her handsome face, a moment ago so dark and brooding, transfigured by a welcoming smile.

'Roger! What brings you here? Oh, I'm so glad to see you!' She held out both her hands.

I took them in mine. 'I came to see if you were safe,' I told her, 'only to learn that it is your holding which was attacked last night, and your cottage which is burned to the ground.

And a body among the ruins! I was afraid...' Unable to finish, I took a tighter grip on her fingers.

'You thought me dead. And you cared.' The smile faded and she drew a deep, shuddering breath, a tear trickling slowly down one cheek. 'Forgive me,' she went on, 'but it's so long since anyone had kindness enough for me to worry about my fate.'

I drew her into my arms, to the great interest of the elderly dame standing beside us, and kissed her gently between the eyes.

'Tell me exactly what's happened,' I urged her.

Grizelda rested her head against my shoulder.

'There's little to tell. Last night, I slept yet again at my friends' holding, as you advised. But in the late afternoon, just as I was leaving the cottage, Innes Woodsman waylaid me and begged me, if I were not sleeping there myself to let him use it for the night. He must have kept watch on it the previous evening and taken note of my absence.'

'Begged you or threatened you?' I interrupted.

'Oh, his manner was sufficiently humble for me to agree to his request. And he had a deep-seated cough which was tearing at his throat. Dear sweet Saviour! Why did I not follow my inclination and refuse him! He would still be alive!'
 

'He was burned to death, then, not murdered?' Grizelda indignantly tore herself free of my arms. 'He was murdered by those devils just as surely as if they had stabbed him with a knife. Indeed, a knife would have been quicker and cleaner, I have no doubt.'

I frowned. 'But why would the outlaws burn down your cottage? What could it possibly avail them7'

'Revenge,' she answered simply. 'They returned for my pig and my cow. But, as I told you yesterday, I have lodged Snouter and Betsy in my friends' byre and sty, along with their own beasts. When the outlaws found them gone, they grew angry and set fire to the house. I was the one they intended as their victim.'

Yet could Innes Woodsman not have escaped in time? I wondered. But the thatch would blaze fiercely, as, too, would the building's wattle framework. A man sleeping soundly might well find himself trapped before he had time to come fuly to his senses. And even had he managed to avoid the furnace, he would have run full tilt into the murdering hands of his oppressors. It might so easily have been Grizelda had she not heeded my warning that the outlaws would probably return, and followed my advice to stay with friends.

As though reading my thoughts, she smiled suddenly and once more clasped my hands.

'I have you to thank for preserving my life. You urged me to caution. I cannot express my gratitude enough.' 'You have no need to be grateful,' I told her, stroking her right cheek and feeling the faint, thin line of the scar which ran from her eyebrow halfway down her face. 'You did what your own common sense dictated. But what will you do now? Will you remain with your friends?'

The crowd was dispersing, the villagers returning to their homes, the day's work still all to do. The sergeant prepared to depart and report back to the captain of the castle garrison.

Later, he would no doubt be summoned to wait upon the Sheriff, whenever his lordship arrived in Totnes. He glanced round until he saw Grizelda, then, riding towards her, leaned from the saddle to speak.

'Mistress Harbourne, my condolences. Also, my heartfelt thanks for accompanying me to your holding and bearing witness as to the corpse. Not a pleasant charge to lay upon one of your sex. I must congratulate you on your courage.

My lord Sheriff may wish to hear your testimony for himself. Where may he find you, if he needs you?'

Grizelda hesitated for a moment, before replying, 'In Tomes. At the house belonging to Master Eudo Colet.'

The sergeant nodded briskly and rode away, leaving me stating stupidly at Grizelda.

'I'm sorry,' she said, laying a conciliatory hand upon my arm. 'I was just about to tell you. I have nowhere else to go now. My friends cannot keep me indefinitely. Their holding is small and they have growing children. They are willing to look after Betsy and Shouter for me, but for myself; I have now no means of earning my keep. I cannot and will not be a burden to them.'

'And... Master Colet has agreed to this arrangement?'
 

She grimaced wryly. 'Not yet. He knows nothing of it. But I am sure that even he will not say me nay in the circumstances. The Crouchback house was, after all, my home for the best part of my life, and where else should I go in my hour of need? And it will only be until I can find myself a place as housekeeper to some respectable household. That should not be difficult. I am known in Totnes.'

'So you will require me to quit the house?' I asked, speaking as steadily as I could.

Grizelda raised her eyes to mine, holding them with a look which was half amusement, half defiance.

'That will be up to Master Colet when he gives his yea or nay to my request.' She grew sober, her lips compressed. 'I hate having to throw myself on his mercy, but I know of nothing else to do. I have lost everything, even my clothes. I have only what I am wearing. Without a roof over my head, I am like to become a parish pauper.'

I said thoughtfully, 'Before you commit yourself to sleeping once again in your old home, there are things I must tell you. But first, are your friends at hand? Would they, from the kindness of their hearts, supply me with food and drink? I have had no breakfast. I have money in my purse. I can pay them.'

'Were they here, they would be offended by any such suggestion,' Grizelda assured me. 'But they have already returned to their holding. They are poor people and cannot afford to waste the daylight hours unnecessarily. They know my intentions. We have said our adieus. But I have some acquaintance with the goodwife you were speaking to earlier. I might prevail upon her to provide us both with bread and ale.'

The stout woman proved obliging, and Grizelda and I sat on a wooden bench outside the goodwife's cottage eating oatcakes spread with honey and drinking mead. Our ears were filled with the gentle humming of the bees from the hives at the bottom of her garden.

When I had finished recounting to Grizelda the events of the previous night, she sat silent for several minutes, frowning into space. The sun was hot on our faces, and all about us the woods which surrounded the village clearing spread warm and fragrant, sloping down to the banks of Bow Creek.

At last, she said slowly, 'You think now that it was Eudo Colet, trying to frighten you away?'

'To maim me, injure me, so that I could no longer pursue my inquiries. Yes, I'm sure of it. The stay of the gallery had been cut clean through. It had not broken.'

'And you think this attempt was made because of your visit to Dame Tenter's cottage?'

'Again, yes. There was time enough for him to follow me and enter the town before curfew. He must still have keys to the house in his possession. He could easily have entered the back yard and concealed himself in one of the outhouses, or in the kitchen building itself. What would there be to stop him?'

Grizelda chewed her lower lip. 'But what of the child you heard singing? That could not have been Master Colet. His voice is not deep, I admit, but it has nothing of a green boy's high pitch.'

'Nor of a young girl's.' I nodded. 'No, it's that that worries me and makes me still a little fearful for anyone remaining alone in that house at night.'

'You think he employed witchcraft?' Grizelda asked, her breath catching in her throat.

I shrugged my shoulders. 'That's a question I can't answer. We all know that the powers of darkness exist, and can be harnessed. But to accuse a man without proof is not something I should wish to do. It's a hanging matter.'
 

'You believe, however, that I should be on my guard if Master Colet agrees to my lodging there?'

'I think you must take care. I should prefer it if he'd let me stay there with you, but I think he'll seize on your request as a means to rid himself of an unwanted guest, without having to resort to any more of his tricks.'