[Roger the Chapman 04] - The Holy Innocents (8 page)

'So, what of Eudo Colet?' I prompted, when my hostess seemed inclined to sink beneath the weight of maudlin reminiscence. 'Where was he when the children vanished?' It was beginning to grow dusk. A flame, licking at the edge of a log, sent the shadows soaring. The landlady roused herself and shrugged.

'Out of the house,' she grudgingly admitted, 'visiting Master Cozin on some affair of business. Business!' she added scornlully. 'What did he know of business, beyond how to spend the money it brought him? For you must understand that after Sir Jasper's death, his partner, Thomas Cozin, had seen to everything for Mistress Rosamund. And very well he'd done it, too, by all accounts: she grew wealthier by the day.

So no one was more dismayed than he, when she returned from London married to a man he knew nothing about. And never managed to know anything about, either, in spite of trying hard for information, like the rest of us. A mystery Eudo Colet was when she brought him home and a mystery he's remained.'

'But there's no mystery where he was when his stepchildren disappeared,' I interrupted gently. 'You say he was with Master Cozin, who, to my certain knowledge, is a respected burgher of this town. If he vouched for his visitor, I don't suppose anyone would doubt him.'

The innkeeper, who had risen to draw me another cup of ale and fill one for herself returned to the table. Her stool creaked protestingly as it again received her weight. She gave me a speaking look, drank deeply and wiped her mouth on her apron.

'That,' she hissed, 'is why I say it was witchcraft. Eudo Colet enlisted the help of the devil!' Once more, she made the sign of the cross.

I could see that I would be wasting my breath if I attempted to overcome her prejudice, so I merely asked, 'It's sure, is it, that the children were alive when he quit the house?'
 

'So Bridget Prattle and Agatha Tenter testify.' She sniffed. 'Mind you, since Master Colet dosed up the house, he's been lodging with Agatha and her mother, Dame Winifred, on the other side of the river. Make what you will of that.'
 

I made nothing of it at the moment. 'And how long was it after Master Colet returned home that the little ones could not be found?'

'According to Bridget, he sent her to fetch them almost at once. He had something to tell them, he said. She went upstairs, but.., they weren't there. At first, of course, she thought they were simply hiding, in order to tease her. But though she searched everywhere, there was no trace of them.

And no one ever saw those two little innocents alive again.' Just at that moment, the bell began to toll for curfew.

I rose to my feet with the deepest reluctance.

'I must go,' I said. 'I've promised Master Oliver Cozin that I'll care for the house tonight, and I should be failing in my duty if I were to absent myself any longer. A pity. I should have liked to hear more.'

The landlady accompanied me to the ale-house door.

'Don't fret. I could tell you little else than what I've told you already. Witchcraft it was, and Eudo Colet at the bottom of it. But you say you've met Grizelda. Ask her if you wish to know anything further. She was more nearly concerned than anyone, and can give you details. So can Master Cozin and his brother, the lawyer, who's been staying with him these three weeks past. Oliver Cozin lives in Exeter, but was always Sir Jasper's friend and attorney, and has continued to manage all legal matters for Rosamund since her father's death. Including the drawing up of her will!' My hostess tapped the side of her nose significantly. 'There isn't much happens in Totnes but what I get to hear of it, one way or another.'
 

I stepped into the street. The sun had vanished from the western sky, staining the clouds red with its dying rays. The gates of the town were by now fast shut and the men of the Watch were collecting their lanterns from the castle guardroom before setting out on their first patrol. I let myself into the empty house, which was my home for the night, and longer if I wanted. The musty smell rose up to greet me, and, as I closed and locked the door behind me, the silence gathered, soft and menacing.

I no longer had any doubt why my footsteps had been directed towards Tomes, nor what was required of me; but, for once, I raised no objections, nor did I try to argue with God. The killing of young children would, I hope, always have been the worst of crimes to me; but now that I was myself a father, now that I had held my own child in my arms, felt her milky-scented warmth close to my breast, it was a thousand times more terrible. Whoever was responsible for turning Andrew and Mary Skelton loose in the woods to be killed by the outlaws, was as guilty of their deaths as that set of murdering ruffians who had passed me at dawn this morning.

I walked along the passage, unlocked the door' at the far end and crossed the dark and empty courtyard to the kitchen.

There, after some searching, I found a bundle of tallow candles on a shelf; just as Master Cozin had told me I should. I also discovered a candle-holder, then groped around in the darkness for a tinder-box. When this proved elusive, I returned to the downstairs parlour and used the one which I always carried with me, in my pack. The fragile golden glow of the candle-flame spread slowly across the room, bringing shadows edging out of their corners like velvet-footed, nocturnal beasts of prey.

The candle in one hand and my cudgel in the other, I mounted the stairs to the second storey, my heart beating rapidly. From up here, if the inn's landlady were to be believed, on a winter's morning three months ago, two children had quit the house without anyone being any the wiser. As yet, my information was incomplete, and there might well be a half-dozen ways in which they could have escaped unnoticed; until I had the whole story from Grizelda, on the morrow, I was not prepared to accept the idea of witchcraft being responsible for their disappearance. Indeed, I doubted of my accepting it even then, for I had already discovered that much of the wickedness in this world has its roots in the hearts and actions of men, unaided by external forces.

Nevertheless, I could not help but recall the sensation of evil I had experienced when, earlier on, I had stood in the second bedchamber, which I now realized must have been used by Grizelda and her charges. She was their nurse and had slept in the truckle-bed. It was amidst the wealth and comfort of the Crouchback household that she had acquired her taste for what she had called 'better things', as many another servant had done before her... And yet, was she a servant? Surely the innkeeper had referred to her as Rosamund's cousin, and Grlzelda herself had told me that she left her father's holding when she was nine years old. A poor relation! That, without doubt, was the answer; the daughter of an impoverished kinsman of Sir Jasper, taken in to be companion to his own, and only, child. I should be very surprised to find that I was mistaken.

At the top of the stairs, I opened the parlour door and stood once more in the narrow space between the two bedchambers, the latch of each room within arm's reach. I could feel the sweat slipping icily down my back as, leaning my cudgel against one wall, I lifted the latch of the smaller chamber and stepped inside. Nothing had changed. Had I really expected it to? But, stupidly, I began to breathe more easily.

My heart stopped thumping quite so strenuously, and the fingers clutching the candle-holder ceased to shake. Nor was there any recurrence of the sickness and panic of the afternoon.

I raised the candle higher, seeing again the four-poster and the truckle-bed, the clothes chest supporting basin and ewer, the rushlight in its holder, the shutter dragging loose from its hinge. Placing my candle carefully on the floor, I put the ewer and basin beside it, then lifted the lid of the chest.

It opened upon a chasm of darkness, the faint scents of dried lavender and cedarwood teasing my nostrils. Picking up my candle again and holding it so as to illumine the interior of the coffer, I saw a sad little huddle of children's toys.

Reaching inside with my free hand, I withdrew, one by one, a wooden horse, with brown mane and crimson saddle, the paintwork much scratched by frequent handling; a cup and ball, the blue silk cord which should have attached them, frayed right through, leaving them in two separate pieces; a doll, whose wooden cheeks were still flushed with a high gloss of colour; some chessmen, roughly carved, and their chequered board; a small linen bag, drawn shut by a leather thong, which, when opened, revealed five smooth pebbles, used to play the game of fivestones. The floor of the chest was covered with some dark material, and this proved, on further investigation, to be a woman's gowns - two of them and obviously past their best, rubbed thin in places and patched in others. I hazarded a guess that they had once belonged to Grizelda, and that she had discarded them, when she left, as no longer fit to wear.

I replaced the various items in the chest and closed the lid, then straightened up to my full height, almost brushing my head against the ceiling. I cast a final look around the room, but there was nothing more which would add to the innkeeper's story; no ghosts to trouble the warm, fetid air with their uneasy presence. Whatever had reached out to touch me, earlier in the day, had gone, leaving an unruffled calm behind it.

I returned to the parlour. A three-quarter moon was rising, filtering through the glass top-half of the windows to lie in drifts of clouded silver across the dusty floor. I closed the shutters before going back to the chief bedchamber where I did the same, also ensuring that the door to the covered gallery was locked. Downstairs, I went on my rounds again, padding from parlour to counting-house, across the courtyard to the kitchens and thence to the second courtyard, making certain that all was secured. Like Oliver Cozin, I did not believe Ihe outlaws would venture into the town, but there were thieves everywhere, and an empty house is always a temptation. Master Colet, I thought, might consider himself a very fortunate man that his property had not been robbed ere this.

As I re-entered the main part of the house, I knew a moment's temptation myself to sleep upstairs on a feather mattress instead of downstairs, with only my cloak for blanket. But I was the night's custodian of the place, and could not afford to sleep too soundly. Too much comfort would lull my senses. I must embrace discomfort in order to discharge my promise to the lawyer. A degree of wakefulness would keep me alert for any alien noise. There was a privy in the outer courtyard which I had already used, so I placed a freshly lighted candle, in its holder, as close to the shutters as was safe, wrapped myself in my good frieze cloak and sat down on one of the armchairs, my feet resting on a stool, which I'd dragged in from the counting-house for that purpose.

I cIosed my eyes and, within minutes, was fast asleep.

The first deep slumber did not last, however, and as predicted I woke many times throughout the night, on one occasion rousing myself to prowl the length of the passageway and open the door into the courtyard, listening intently for any sound which might disturb the silence of the night. But all was quiet, not even a barking dog to intrude upon the general stillness. Another time, I rose and went upstairs, peering through a wide chink in the parlour shutters to stare down into the empty street. Nothing and no one stirred. If the outlaws were up and about their evil business, it was not within the walls and defences of Totnes.

I woke at least twice more, before failing into a doze which lasted until strong sunlight, piercing the shutters, told me that it was day. I started forward in my chair with a deafening snort, and the taste of last night's garlic foul in my mouth.

The candle was almost burned down, only an inch or so of tallow still remaining. I blew out the flame, disentangled myself from my cloak, took my razor and soap, together with my tinder-box, from my pack, picked up the key and went out to the courtyard. Here, I stripped and washed as well as I could whilst working the pump with one or other of my hands, shook myself dry, like a dog, dressed again and drew up water from the well, carrying the bucket into the kitchen.

There was still some tinder in the brazier which I lit, setting a pan of water over it to heat. While I waited, I considered what it would be best for me to do.

Sometime during the day, I must visit Oliver Cozin and tell him if I were willing or not to accept his offer to remain in the house until the end of the week. But before I did that, I wished to renew my acquaintance with Grizelda Harbourne, which meant a walk of some miles to her holding near Bow Creek. And for such a walk I should need sustenance: my stomach was already rumbling with hunger, making me feel quite faint. I must therefore visit the ale-house near the castle and buy myself breakfast. My mouth began to water at the prospect.

I shaved as quickly as possible and rubbed my teeth with willow bark, as I have seen Welshmen do and for which purpose I always carry a sliver in my pocket, gathering fresh pieces as I go. At last I had finished and, returning to the front part of the house, I stowed away my pack, made sure all was safe, locked the street door behind me and slipped the key into my pocket. Then I directed my feet towards the castle inn.

Grizelda was outside the cottage when I entered the clearing, planting leeks in a patch of ground within the paling of her garden, but there was no sign of either pig or cow. Both sty and field were empty and I felt a stab of alarm. Had the outlaws indeed returned to rob her further? Or had she had the wit to leave the beasts with her friends?

I must either have made some sound or she sensed my presence for she straightened suddenly, staring in my direction and shielding her eyes with her hand against the morning sun. When she saw who it was, her wide, generous mouth split into a welcoming grin.