The Novice's Tale (Oxford Medieval Mysteries Book 2) Read online

  They were not at their desks, but crouched on the floor with Alysoun and Rafe, all of them clustered around the puppy Rowan. Alysoun was sobbing. Rafe had his thumb in his mouth and his face was very white.

  ‘What’s afoot?’ I said, kneeling down beside Alysoun and putting my arm around her. ‘Don’t cry, my pet. Tell me what has happened?’

  ‘It wasn’t Rowan’s fault.’ She turned up a face blotched with tears.

  ‘Calmly now,’ I said. ‘Tell me what has happened.’ I saw that there was blood, and the puppy lay very still.

  ‘We were going past that butcher in St Mildred Street. We’d been with Juliana. And there were sausages hanging down from the counter.’ She gave a sob that was part hiccough. ‘He shouldn’t leave sausages hanging like that, should he, Papa? How is a dog to know?’

  ‘What happened?’ I said, though I had a shrewd idea.

  ‘Rowan gave a little tug at them. It was just a little tug, wasn’t it, Rafe?’

  Rafe nodded solemnly, without taking his thumb from his mouth.

  ‘She didn’t steal the sausages?’

  ‘Nay, but somehow it made a jug fall off the counter, and it smashed.’ She gulped. ‘He’s a horrible man, Papa, that butcher.’

  ‘Tell me quickly, my pet, so I can help Rowan.’ I noticed now that there was also blood on Alysoun’s gown.

  ‘He took a piece of the broken jug and slashed her with it. All along her side. I carried her home, but I think she’s going to die. Oh, Papa, please don’t let her die!’

  ‘Where is your aunt?’ Margaret would know best what to do.

  ‘Gone to the market,’ Walter said.

  There was nothing for it. Despite my desperate need to ride in search of Emma, I could not leave the dog lying injured.

  ‘Roger,’ I said, ‘fetch me a bowl of water and a rag from the kitchen. I think I know what Margaret would use to clean the wound and salve it.’

  I got to my feet and hurried to my sister’s stillroom. There were bottles of the tinctures of cleansing herbs Margaret used when the children fell and scraped their knees, and small pots sealed with melted wax of the salve she applied afterwards. I was not sure what herbs she used, but whatever was healing for humans could do a dog no harm. As an afterthought I caught up a piece of the fine linen she used for bandages.

  The puppy lay quiet while I cleaned the wound, which was a nasty deep gouge running along her side. Unnecessarily cruel, I thought. I knew the man, greedy for money, careless of cleanliness, and short of temper. He was known to beat his wife and children. An errant dog could expect little mercy.

  Alysoun watched me with her hands gripped tightly together, looking as if she might be sick at any moment. I thought it best to make a return to normal.

  ‘Thank you, Roger. You and Walter may go back to work. Alysoun, you and Rafe may prepare something for Rowan to eat when I have finished here. I am sure she will be hungry after the shock. There is some gravy in a jug on the shelf by the back door. Put it in her bowl and crumble some bread into it to soak.’

  They ran off, clearly glad to have something to do. Margaret might have had other plans for that good beef gravy, but I thought she would not begrudge it.

  ‘How bad is it?’ Walter asked quietly, once they were out of earshot.

  ‘Nasty,’ I said, ‘but fortunately her ribs stopped it going too deep. If the shard of pottery had slid between her ribs it would probably have killed her. Damn the man!’

  Hearing the anger in my voice, Rowan lifted her head and licked my hand apologetically. I stroked her and rubbed her behind her soft spaniel ears.

  ‘Not you, poor imp. Now, stay quiet while I finish.’

  I smeared the jagged gash with the salve, then wound the bandage right round her body and secured it with a knot at her back. She might well try to pull it off, but for the moment it would offer some protection. I gathered her up and carried her into the kitchen. Set on her feet, she sat down suddenly, then managed to walk, somewhat shakily, to the dish of bread and gravy, which she began eating with enthusiasm,

  ‘There, you see,’ I said to the children, ‘she is not going to die, but I think you should keep her in the house until that heals. And Alysoun, you’d best put that gown to soak in a bucket of cold water. I am going to clean the floor in the shop, then I am afraid I must go out again. We are searching for a missing girl. Tell Aunt Margaret I am not sure when I will be home.’

  ‘Oh, Papa, you saved her!’ Alysoun flung her arms around my waist and buried her face in my chest. I tousled her hair, swallowing a tendency to weep myself.

  ‘Nay, my pet,’ I said. ‘I do not think she was going to die.’

  However, when I had washed away the blood on the shop floor I realised that the puppy had lost a good deal. She would need care for the next few days. I flung the bloody water out into the garden, abandoned the bucket and rag outside the door, and hurried back to the shop, where I explained briefly what was to-do at Godstow.

  ‘Alaunts?’ Walter said, shocked.

  ‘Aye. I hope that the sheriff may come in time.’

  With that, I left, running back up the High to the Mitre.

  The horse they had saddled for me was Merrylegs, a poor choice of name, for he was an ill-tempered beast, inclined to bite, so I had no compunction at kicking him up to a good speed once I was out of the town and heading up St Giles. Dealing with the puppy had delayed me, so the sheriff’s men must be well ahead of me, if they had started as soon as Jordain and Philip had alerted them. I suppose I had ridden about two miles when I came up with the party of horsemen from the castle. To my relief, the deputy sheriff was in charge. I had never had dealings with the sheriff of Oxfordshire, but Cedric Walden I knew and liked.

  ‘Any sign yet of the girl?’ I asked.

  He shook his head. ‘Not yet, but first we will make sure of this Falke Malaliver and his dogs. Once they are secure, then we can begin the search for the novice.’

  Looking across at me, he said, ‘Why do you suppose she has run away from Godstow?’

  ‘She feared being coerced into becoming a nun,’ I said. ‘It was not her wish to enter the nunnery, she was forced into it by this stepfather of hers.’

  ‘She’s not the first, and won’t be the last. It was his right, if he is her guardian.’

  ‘There is more to this than a wish to dispose of an unwanted stepdaughter,’ I said grimly. ‘There is the matter of a large inheritance.’

  ‘Ah.’

  ‘Master Olney is investigating the legal side, but there seems to be some evil intent on Malaliver’s part. And since he is bent on hunting her down with dogs who can kill a wolf or a boar–’ I shrugged, leaving Walden to draw his own conclusions.

  ‘Then the sooner we put a stop to it,’ Walden said, ‘the better for all, including the man himself, if he has no wish to face a murder charge.’

  With that he spurred his horse on, and we all galloped up the road to Woodstock like cavalry going to war.

  We came face to face with Malaliver and his men where the track to Wolvercote joined the road to Woodstock. I was surprised that they had not ranged further, but pressed my horse close up behind Walden so that I could hear what passed between the two men. At first Malaliver shouted at Walden to clear the way, as flushed and angry as he had been earlier at Godstow, but Walden stood firm, his disciplined men formed up in ranks beside him, and asserted his authority as deputy sheriff of Oxfordshire.

  All the time, the lymers ranged about the feet of the horses, aimlessly scenting the undergrowth on either side of the track. The alaunts, to my great relief, were still held on chains by the huntsmen.

  ‘God curse the wench!’ Malaliver shouted, barely lowering his voice from his first arrogant orders to Walden. ‘She was well cared for amongst those women. She would soon have been safely made a nun. Wherefore has she gone running off?’

  ‘It is my understanding,’ Walden said quietly, ‘that she is quite opposed to taking the veil. It seems that she has
taken drastic measures to avoid it.’

  ‘That is not for her to decide,’ Malaliver yelled, growing, if possible, even redder in the face, ‘when her legal guardian has decreed otherwise. She has been given to God, and with God she must remain. It is God’s will.’

  I wondered that he could so twist the intentions of the Deity, to follow his own desires, and at the same time call upon Him to curse the girl.

  ‘All of this may be settled in time,’ Walden said calmly, ‘and may need a decision in the courts, but nothing is of account until the maid is found. Since you have not travelled far from Godstow, do I understand that your tracking dogs have not yet picked up her scent?’

  ‘We scouted in the opposite direction first, in case she had taken that way, avoiding the road.’ Malaliver had lowered his voice from a shout now, perhaps reasoning that he needed to placate Walden. ‘After that we searched the home farm, lest she was hiding out there, but there was no sign.’

  ‘Your lymers have something to give them the scent?’

  ‘Aye, the women gave me a blanket from her bed. Or so they claimed. It would be no surprise to me if it was a trick.’ He glowered. ‘The dogs have found no scent, so how can that be? If she came this way out of the abbey, she must have left a scent. My lymers are the finest in the kingdom. If there was a scent, they would find it. It was probably some other woman’s blanket and those women sought to frustrate me. More fools they! They need the wench back, and quickly, or they will regret it.’

  His tone was threatening, and I wondered what he meant. Merely the demand that Abbess de Streteley return Emma’s monastic dowry? Or something else?

  ‘Well, it seems that this is the only way out of the abbey,’ the deputy sheriff said, ‘through the gatehouse, which I understand was left unbarred that night. The maid is most likely to make for Oxford, since she has kin living there.’

  He laid a slight emphasis on the word ‘kin’, as if to show that he knew Emma had blood kin, which Malaliver was not.

  ‘Therefore,’ Walden continued, ‘we will make an enlarged party to search all the way from here to Oxford, and in the meantime you will tell your huntsmen to take those alaunts back to the abbey, where they will request a secure outbuilding in which the dogs may be lodged. To hunt a woman with killing hounds is against the law, and you are fortunate that they were still held on chains when we found you. Otherwise I should have put you under arrest.’

  Walden too could sound threatening when he chose, and I was pleased to see that Malaliver was somewhat taken aback. Sullenly he ordered the men holding the alaunts – three dogs to a man, nine in all – to return with them to Godstow.

  The deputy sheriff now took charge of the search, commandeering Malaliver’s chief huntsmen and ordering the careful search by half the lymers on each side of the road, while his men scoured the woods, following behind the dogs. Malaliver’s men were distributed amongst the groups of the sheriff’s men, but not permitted to range off on their own. Walden had taken the measure of Emma’s stepfather and clearly did not trust either him or his men.

  Thus began our slow progress back to Oxford, with diversions into farmland where the woods had been cleared, and then the search of every barn and cottage we passed. Night was falling when we reached the town, but we had found no trace of Emma.

  I hardly slept that night. Though I would not admit how much Emma Thorgold was beginning to matter to me, I argued with myself that any decent man would be concerned at the thought that a gently born girl was lost and alone, somewhere out in the uninhabited country around Godstow. Since England had been torn apart by the Great Pestilence, the numbers of outlaws and masterless men had soared. Some were escaped villeins, seizing the opportunity of a world turned upside down to flee their bondage and their lords. Although there were those amongst them who had found work as free labourers with new masters in countryside or town, many still roamed the land, living wild. As well, there were outlaws, driven from their own parishes for crimes too minor for the death penalty, but too serious to be ignored. Both groups lived not only by poaching illegal game but by preying on any travellers not strong enough to withstand them. Even merchants took care to travel in large parties, with armed retainers. A girl, alone and unprotected, could no more resist them than a fledging bird can resist a hunting cat.

  Abandoning any hope of rest, I rose and dressed before dawn, taking care to don my best cotte and a cloak of fine azure blue wool, for I wanted to make a good impression on Sir Anthony Thorgold, to ensure his support for his granddaughter. On my way home the previous evening I had stopped at a barber in Northgate Street for a better shave than my usual rough and ready efforts at home. I ran my hand over my chin now. There was no marring of stubble yet. I am fortunate that my beard grows slowly.

  Margaret, of course, was up before me, just drawing her new baked loaves out of the bread oven. She raised her eyebrows when she saw me.

  ‘You are early astir, Nicholas.’

  ‘I want to set off for Long Wittenham as soon as I may, once I have the document from Philip Olney in hand. It will take most of the day to ride there and back, with seeing Sir Anthony between. I do not know how I will be received. It may take time to persuade him to sign Philip’s document. Indeed, I may fail to persuade him at all, but I must make the assay.’

  ‘Dressed like that, you could persuade the king himself,’ she said.

  I laughed, but felt somewhat flattered, until she added, ‘You have forgot to comb your hair.’

  My feelings of apprehension over approaching Sir Anthony, as well as the worry over Emma, robbed me of any appetite, so I left soon after this for the Mitre. To my relief, Rufus appeared none the worse for his hard usage the previous day. I could rely on him to take me to Sir Anthony’s manor and back without mishap. With so early a start I need not force the pace.

  After mounting Rufus I rode him down to Merton and was surprised but pleased to see that Philip had come out to the gatehouse to meet me.

  ‘Here is the document we discussed,’ he said, handing me a scrip with the parchment rolled up safely inside. I buckled the scrip to my belt.

  ‘And all he needs to do is to sign it?’ I asked.

  ‘Aye, but you will need to explain its purpose to him first, and what I judge to be the position in law. The position, that is, of his granddaughter in relation to taking the veil.’

  I nodded. ‘Of course. I only hope the man is not too ill to see me or to understand why I have come. If he cares for his granddaughter, surely he must want to support her wishes.’

  Philip shrugged. ‘Who’s to know? Families can be strange in their ways, and not all kin love each other.’

  ‘True.’

  ‘However, if you find him in his right mind, and willing to sign, I think you might go further.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ I said.

  ‘If it is possible to do so discreetly, I think you should warn him about what we suspect of Malaliver’s intentions. It may be unseemly for you, as a stranger, to speak to a dying man about his will, but were I his man of law, I would urge him to so word his will that the Thorgold estate cannot fall to Malaliver. If you can think of a way to do it, warn him.’

  ‘Aye.’ I nodded. ‘We know that he was opposed to his daughter-in-law, Emma’s mother, marrying Malaliver after the death of his son. It may be that he was not simply opposed to her remarriage, but to her intended husband. And of course he may not even know that Emma was forced into the nunnery. He may believe that she went of her own choice. I will do my best to make everything clear to him.’ I grimaced. ‘Including Malaliver’s use of killing dogs.’

  ‘There has been no word of her, I suppose, since you spoke to me yesterday?’

  I shook my head. ‘None. I would prefer to stay here and help with the search, but I must see Sir Anthony first. Cedric Walden is going to cover the ground north of Godstow today, sending one party to Woodstock and another along the road to Witney and Burford.’

  ‘Why should she go to any
of those places?’

  ‘Why indeed? But where can she be?’

  ‘Do you know what Malaliver intends?’

  ‘I do not.’ I frowned. ‘I hope Walden will keep a close watch on him. He and his men – and his dogs and horses – were to spend the night in the guest house at Godstow. I do not envy the Reverend Mother the task of entertaining them.’

  ‘Nor I. Well, I shall not delay you further, Nicholas. If it is not too late when you return, come and tell me how you fared.’

  ‘Aye, and I will bring you, I hope, the signed document for you to retain as Emma’s man of law.’

  He gave a rueful smile. ‘A client I have never met, and who has quite vanished. God go with you, Nicholas.’

  ‘And you.’ I turned Rufus to cut through the back alleys to reach Fish Street, saving me the distance of riding round by Carfax. Philip gave me a wave and withdrew into his college.

  The way to Long Wittenham was familiar to me from my recent trip with Jordain to fetch the Farringdons and their goods, but riding a sturdy horse I could travel at a much brisker pace than we had done with our lumbering horse and cart. I had not thought to bring any vittles with me, but I still felt the nausea of apprehension which robbed me of hunger. However, the weather had turned sunny again after the thunderstorm. The crops would be drying in the fields and those I passed did not appear to have suffered too much of a beating. As the sun rose further, I began to feel too warm in my cloak, and I wished that I had at least brought a flask of ale with me.

  When I reached the river ferry at Clifton, I hoped the ferrymen would not remember me as one of the passengers with the stubborn-minded carthorse, but they showed no sign of recognition. No doubt so many people passed this way, travellers as well as locals, that they took no particular notice of us, except when a passenger added an extra penny to the fare.