The Elephants of Norwich (17 page)

The travellers were fortunate. Though the sky remained dark, only one shower actually broke out and they were able to shelter from it beneath the overhanging branches of a tree. When the rain eased off, they emerged to continue their journey with more urgency.
    Gervase Bret did not make the same mistake twice. The six men who escorted them were left a short distance away from the destination. Gervase and Golde proceeded on alone until they came to the circle of thatched huts. More inhabitants were visible this time. Skalp was trying to repair one of the derelict dwellings with the help of a much older man. A third man was hacking at a length of timber with his axe. Two small children were playing in the long grass. A young woman was weaving a basket. An older one was waddling off to feed the chickens. Everyone looked up as the strangers rode into the little encampment but there was less hostility this time. Ambling forward towards them, Skalp showed more curiosity than antagonism.
    ‘Why’ve you come back?’ he asked.
    ‘To see Olova again,’ said Gervase.
    ‘We can’t help you.’
    ‘You can if you try, Skalp.’
    The young Saxon indicated Golde. ‘Who’s this?’
    ‘A friend of mine.’
    ‘Why have you brought her?’
    ‘Come with us and you’ll find out,’ said Gervase, easily. ‘You can sit in Olova’s hut with us this time. There’s no need to lurk outside to listen.’
    Skalp’s eyes flashed but he bit back a comment. He followed them across to the largest of the huts. Gervase dismounted and helped Golde down from the saddle. On his advice, she was not wearing the fine apparel that befitted the wife of a Norman lord but had chosen more homespun garments, comfortable for the journey and reminiscent of the clothing she had worn when she lived in Hereford. Olova stepped outside to give them a wary greeting and to be introduced to Golde. The visitors were invited into her hut. When Skalp tried to follow, a nod from his grandmother sent him back to his work. Inside the musty hut, the guests were waved to seats.
    Olova settled into her own chair and gave them a stern warning. ‘I hope that you’ve not come to insult me as well, Master Bret.’
    ‘Insult you?’
    ‘That’s what my other visitor did.’
    ‘When?’
    ‘Not long ago. If you’d come earlier, you’d have caught him here.’
    ‘Did he give a name?’
    ‘Jocelyn the Anchorite,’ she said, chewing on bare gums. ‘I think that’s what it was. He didn’t speak our language as well as you.’
    ‘It’s my language as well.’
    ‘And mine,’ added Golde. ‘How did this man insult you?’
    ‘He told us about a theft from the abbey,’ said Olova.
    ‘I tried to do that myself,’ Gervase reminded her, ‘but you wouldn’t listen to me.’
    ‘I wouldn’t listen to this man and it made him very angry. I thought that an anchorite was a man of peace but this one had more of a warrior about him. When I wouldn’t tell him what he wanted, he more or less accused me of having taken those holy objects myself. That was an insult. I may loathe the abbey for the way it treated me but I’d never steal property from consecrated ground.’
    ‘I’m sure that you wouldn’t.’
    ‘We’re God-fearing people, Master Bret. We’re not thieves like the Normans.’
    ‘Not all Normans steal,’ said Golde.
    ‘Some of them stole our land, that’s all I know. I told that to the anchorite.’
    ‘What was his reply?’
    ‘That he was ashamed of his own part in the pillaging. He’d been a Norman lord himself and grabbed his share of property along with all the other vultures. At least, he had the grace to say that it was unjust. I admired him for that.’ Her voice darkened. ‘But I won’t forgive him for insulting me like that.’
    ‘Why did he come to you in the first place?’ said Gervase.
    ‘He was looking for the man that you mentioned.’
    ‘Starculf?’
    ‘The anchorite had heard rumours that he’d been seen in this area.’
    ‘And has he?’
    ‘Not that I know, Master Bret. It’s more likely that someone was up to mischief when they sent the Norman here. We have enemies. This is the kind of thing they do. I don’t believe that Starculf is within a hundred miles of here.’
    ‘Jocelyn is after the wrong man.’
    ‘How do you know?’
    ‘Starculf didn’t steal those treasures from the abbey.’
    ‘Then who did?’
    ‘Hermer the Steward.’
    A look of sheer contempt came into her eye but she said nothing. Gervase nudged Golde. On the journey from Norwich, they had already discussed how to approach the old woman. Golde gave a sympathetic smile and leaned forward.
    ‘I can understand how you feel,’ she said with quiet sincerity. ‘My father was a thegn in Herefordshire with five manors to his name. We lost them all. I was married off to a brewer. It wasn’t what my father had hoped for me. He died a bitter and disappointed man.’
    ‘My husband didn’t live to see the worst of it. I thank God for that.’
    ‘We can’t change the past, I’m afraid. We just have to accept it.’
    ‘You might do that but I won’t. I’ll fight to get some of my land back.’
    ‘You’re perfectly entitled to do that,’ Gervase put in.
    ‘But that’s not what brought us here,’ resumed Golde. ‘You know that Hermer was killed and I can see why you shed no tears at his passing, but even the murder of a bad man must be paid for, Olova. The taking of life is a crime.’
    ‘I know that.’
    ‘Then help us to find his killer.’
    ‘What can I do?’
    ‘Tell us why you hate the man so much.’
    ‘I hate anyone who steals land from me,’ said the old woman, bitterly.
    ‘Hermer was only a servant of someone else. He didn’t have the land for himself. I think there’s another reason why you despise him so much.’ Olova turned away. ‘We have to know what it is,’ coaxed Golde. ‘Did Hermer threaten you or beat any of the family? We know he was cruel. We met an old man called Alstan who’d been whipped by Hermer and chased off the lord Richard’s land. What did Hermer do to you?’
    Olova looked first at Golde, then at Gervase. She forced herself to speak. ‘If I tell you, will you leave me alone for good?’
    ‘We swear it!’ vowed Gervase.
    Golde nodded gently. ‘You have our word, Olova.’
    The old woman was still unconvinced. She regarded them both with a mixture of suspicion and interest, unwilling to trust them yet sensing a distant bond with them. It was minutes before she spoke, hands clutched tight and voice almost a whisper.
    ‘You called Hermer a bad man,’ she began, biting her lip. ‘You never met him. He wasn’t bad–he was evil. Whoever killed him rid the world of an affliction. I’m not just speaking about his work for the lord Richard, though that gave him the power that he wanted. Power to bully, cheat and rob at will. But there was something else.’
    ‘What was it?’ asked Golde.
    ‘Something that will take him straight to hell.’
    ‘Cruelty?’
    ‘Lust!’ said the other woman. ‘A lust that burned inside him like a fire. We’d all heard the stories about him. Hermer took what he wanted wherever he could find it. If a young widow could not pay her rent, Hermer would exact payment of another kind. If someone caught his eye, he’d stalk her carefully for months until he had his way.’ She winced as if feeling a sudden pain. ‘Then Aelfeva came to live with us.’
    ‘Aelfeva?’
    ‘Her parents died and she had no kinfolk apart from us. We took her in. A sweet, innocent girl of no more than sixteen summers. But she wanted no favours,’ said Olova. ‘She worked hard and did more than her share of chores. Aelfeva was a joy to have around. She became part of the family. Until he laid eyes on her.’
    ‘Hermer?’
    ‘Whenever he was in this hundred, he made an excuse to call here to see Aelfeva. He stalked her until the poor girl was in a state of terror. Whenever he came, she’d run away and hide.’ Olova let out another sigh and her body sagged. ‘That was her undoing.’
    ‘Hermer found her hiding-place?’ said Gervase.
    ‘He did more than that, Master Bret. He violated the girl. We heard the screams from half a mile away. By the time we got there, of course, he’d ridden off. Aelfeva was in a terrible state. She cried for days.’
    ‘Didn’t you report the crime?’ said Golde, smarting with indignation.
    ‘To whom?’
    ‘The lord sheriff.’
    ‘What was the point?’ retorted the old woman. ‘If we’d accused Hermer, his master would have lied on his behalf. Who’d believe the word of a young girl over that of a Norman lord? There was nothing that we could do–except remember it,’ she added with a glint in her eye. ‘Besides, Aelfeva wasn’t able to bring a charge against him. The shame of it was too much for her. A few days later, she drowned herself. Skalp found her body floating downstream. He was heartbroken – it was a tragedy.’ She looked at Gervase. ‘Can you see now why I thanked God when I heard that that devil had been killed?’
    ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘and I’m very grateful that you explained it to us. I can see how difficult it was for you, Olova. But it’s not the end of the story, is it?’
    ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘I think there’s more.’
    ‘No, there isn’t.’
    ‘Let’s hear it all, please.’
    ‘You already have.’
    ‘Tell us,’ he persisted. ‘It’s to do with Starculf, isn’t it?’
    She went off into a flurry of denials but Gervase was not deflected. ‘It could be important, Olova. We must know the full truth. It’s the only way we can solve this crime.’ She glared at him but her anger was tempered by wistfulness. ‘Once you’ve told us, we’ll leave at once,’ he said quietly. ‘That’s a promise.’
    There was a long pause. Her breathing became heavier. She weighed her words. ‘I did know Starculf,’ she said at length. ‘He came here to apologise.’
    ‘Apologise?’
    ‘For what Hermer had done to Aelfeva. Some time after he got back, Hermer boasted about it to his assistant. Starculf was a hard man but he was an honest one as well. He taxed Hermer with what he’d done to the girl and ordered him to make amends.’ She gave a snort of anger. ‘How can anyone atone for what he did to her?’
    ‘Is that how the two men fell out?’ said Gervase.
    ‘Yes. Starculf was dismissed and driven out. He came straight here, hoping to offer his sympathy to Aelfeva, but we’d already buried her by then. Suicides don’t lie in consecrated ground, Master Bret. It was one more indignity for the girl to suffer.’
    ‘What did Starculf do?’
    ‘Apologised to us and swore to take revenge on our behalf.’
    ‘Was that the last time you saw him?’
    ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘And the last time I wanted to see him. He’d only remind me of what happened to Aelfeva and I can’t bear to think about that.’ She stood up abruptly. ‘I want you to go, Master Bret. I want you both to leave now.’
    ‘Of course,’ he agreed, getting up and helping Golde to her feet. ‘I’m sorry that you had to confront some painful memories but you’ve been a great help to us. Thank you, Olova. What you’ve told us explains a lot.’
    ‘Just go,’ said the old woman, almost pushing them out.
    They bade her farewell and left the hut, hearing the sound of her sobbing as they walked away. The other inhabitants were still engaged in their work or play. Skalp was using a heavy stone to hammer a timber support into position. He spared only a glance as Gervase went past, escorting Golde on his arm. A minute later, their horses were heard setting off in the direction from which they had come. Skalp waited until the sound of hoofbeats died away before ambling slowly across to a clump of bushes near the stream.
    ‘You can come out now, Starculf,’ he said. ‘They’ve gone.’

Roger Bigot arrived back at the castle with his men as the two commissioners were dismounting from their horses in the bailey. The sheriff joined them and dropped down from the saddle.
    ‘Did you enjoy your visit to the lady Adelaide?’ he asked.
    ‘Yes,’ said Ralph. ‘I think we enjoyed it far more than she did.’
    ‘That was your fault,’ said Coureton with a chuckle.
    ‘She was patronising us. I wasn’t going to stand for that. When she boasted that she had extremely high standards, I asked her why she was considering Richard de Fontenel as a husband.’
    The sheriff laughed. ‘I can see why that upset her.’
    ‘It was a fair question, my lord sheriff.’
    ‘I dare say that it earned you a warm reply.’
    ‘It did,’ said Ralph with amusement. ‘But I just wanted to know why the lady Adelaide would even look at someone as disreputable as the lord Richard. Or, for that matter, at someone as devious as Mauger Livarot.’
    ‘They’re the only choices available to her.’
    ‘You mean she’s so desperate to be married that she’d rather take on a confirmed reprobate than remain a widow?’
    ‘No,’ said Bigot, ‘I mean that the lady Adelaide enjoys the idea of being wooed even if her suitors are not perhaps the most ideal of men. She’s kept the two of them at bay for several months now. I’m not sure that she’ll commit herself to either.’
    ‘I’d not put money on the lord Richard’s chances,’ said Coureton.
    ‘Why not?’
    ‘She was shocked to hear that the gold elephants came from the abbey.’
    ‘Did you tell her that we know who stole them?’
    ‘No, my lord sheriff,’ said Ralph. ‘The lady Adelaide doesn’t know that Hermer took them on behalf of his master. I thought it better to let her reach her own conclusions.’
    Coureton grinned. ‘And she did. I could see it in her face.’
    ‘So could I, Eustace. The lord Richard’s hopes have foundered. I’d love to be there when she confronts him. The lady Adelaide has a sharp tongue when she’s roused, as we found out ourselves.’
    ‘What else did you learn?’ asked the sheriff.
    Ralph gave full details of their visit, drawing particular attention to the discomfort she had shown when questioned about Starculf. Bigot listened with interest. When Ralph had finished, the sheriff passed on his own news.
    ‘There’ve been more sightings of Starculf,’ he announced. ‘I still have search parties out looking for him. We know that he’s in the area and has been for some time.’
    ‘How did you find that out, my lord sheriff?’ asked Coureton.
    ‘From a locksmith in Wymondham.’
    ‘Locksmith?’
    ‘Yes, my lord. What puzzled me was how the man who stole the elephants and abducted Hermer actually got into the house. He must have had a key. The first thing I did, naturally, was to check on the locksmiths in Norwich itself to see if any had done work recently that might possibly be connected with the lord Richard’s house. None of them had. So we widened our search to Wymondham.’
    ‘I remember seeing that name in our returns,’ said Coureton. ‘Its fortunes seem to have taken a turn for the worse. Sixty plough teams are recorded in 1066 but little more than a third of that number now survive.’
    ‘The town was much reduced in size in the wake of the Earl Ralph’s rebellion,’ explained Bigot. ‘Wymondham suffered more than most from that unfortunate business. But it still supports a few locksmiths and we spoke to all of them.’
    ‘Profitably, it seems.’
    ‘One was given a commission a fortnight ago to make two keys for a young man who wanted them in a hurry. The locksmith remembers how intense he was. The customer didn’t live in the town. He gave his name as Alstan.’
    ‘Alstan?’
    ‘But that was the name of the old man we met on our way here,’ remembered Ralph. ‘A slave from the lord Richard’s estate. Whipped and driven out.’
    ‘That’s perhaps where he got the name from,’ said Bigot. ‘The locksmith had the feeling that there was something odd about the man. But he did the work nevertheless and handed the two keys over to him. Alstan paid him and left.’
    ‘Did the locksmith give you a description of him?’
    ‘A good description, my lord. I think that the customer was Starculf.’
    ‘What was he doing in Wymondham?’
    ‘Having duplicates made of keys to the lord Richard’s estate. At least, that’s what I believe. The time is critical,’ reasoned Bigot. ‘Two weeks ago, the lord Richard was still in Normandy. That would have been the perfect time for someone to break into his house to borrow his keys. Starculf knew the premises well. He wanted the duplicates made in a hurry so that he could return the originals before the lord Richard came back.’
    ‘That makes sense,’ opined Coureton.
    ‘Not necessarily,’ said Ralph, slowly. ‘Consider his purpose. Starculf needed those duplicates so that he could have access to the house in order to kill Hermer. Why wait so long until he did so? Why not attack the steward when he returned the stolen keys to the house?’
    ‘Because Hermer wasn’t there, my lord.’
    ‘Where was he?’
    ‘Spending the night at the abbey in order to make off with the elephants. Before that, he was absent for some days, visiting his master’s estates in the hundreds of East Flegg and Walsham. Don’t you see?’ Bigot went on. ‘Starculf deliberately chose a time when neither the lord Richard nor his steward was at home.’
    ‘But how could he possibly
know
they’d both be absent?’
    ‘By waiting and watching. Starculf is a cunning man.’
    ‘I can appreciate that,’ said Ralph. ‘He must have guessed that you’d talk to all the locksmiths in Norwich so he had the work done some distance away. And now I come to think of it there’s another reason why he didn’t kill Hermer earlier.’
    ‘What is it, my lord?’
    ‘He wanted the lord Richard to be there. To be shocked by the discovery. To suffer. Look at the way he sent the steward’s hands back in a box. That, too, was meant as a taunt to his former master. The only thing I don’t understand,’ Ralph admitted, rubbing his chin, ‘is why he stole the elephants. Starculf couldn’t possibly have known they’d be in the house.’
    ‘There are lots of questions still to be answered,’ said Bigot, solemnly, ‘but I feel that the villain is now identified beyond any doubt. Starculf is the killer and he’s still somewhere in the county.’
    ‘Are all the main roads being watched?’
    ‘Yes, my lord. The net is closing in on him.’