The Owls of Gloucester (Domesday Series Book 10) Read online

  ‘You tell me, my lord.’

  ‘Your armed escort speaks for itself.’

  ‘The roads are dangerous. I need protection.’

  ‘So do your sub-tenants.’

  ‘That is perilously close to an insult.’

  ‘No offence was intended, my lord,’ said Gervase, anxious to keep the exchange on a moderate note. ‘Our real purpose is to determine exactly which land you actually hold. Your charter would seem to suggest that Strang's eight hides are contiguous with, but separate from, the twenty hides granted to you. Querengar's ten hides overlap with both of you but also seem to contain land which is distinct from yours and Strang's. The only way for us to resolve the confusion was to rely on the evidence of our own eyes and ears.’

  ‘I admire your conscientiousness, Master Bret.’

  ‘Thoroughness is the only path to justice.’

  ‘Quite so.’

  ‘Then perhaps you will stand aside while we ride on,’ said Ralph. ‘With pleasure, my lord,’ said Hamelin obligingly. ‘I must get back to Gloucester. I want to be in the city well before the King arrives.’

  Ralph was stung. ‘You know about his visit?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘I told you. I am well informed.’

  ‘Nigel the Reeve again?’

  ‘Excuse us. We must bid you farewell.’

  ‘Before you go, my lord,’ said Gervase, recalling what Caradoc had told them. ‘I believe that you know a Brother Nicholas?’

  ‘I know of him. The abbey's rent collector.’

  ‘Is he a friend of yours?’

  ‘My taste does not turn to Benedictine monks, Master Bret.’

  ‘Then why is he granted privileges?’

  ‘Privileges?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Gervase. ‘Safe conduct across your land. Nobody can trespass here without impunity, that is clear. Yet Brother Nicholas, we hear, was able to traverse your holdings at will. Why was that?’

  ‘He represented the abbey. I respected him.’

  ‘Even though you would spurn him as a friend?’

  ‘I do not persecute monks,’ said Hamelin suavely. ‘Why should I? They are not trying to seize lawful property from me. A black cowl will always guarantee a man safe passage across my land.’

  ‘Abraham the Priest wears a black cowl.’

  Hamelin of Lisieux tried to force a smile but it refused to come.

  * * *

  He was an accomplished horseman. Being an archdeacon was no sedentary occupation; Abraham conducted services before many altars throughout Gwent and the peripatetic nature of his work obliged him to spend a fair amount of time in the saddle. He made virtue of a necessity and learned to ride well. The copse was a few miles away but he covered the distance at a steady canter. There was no sign of habitation among the trees, no telltale column of smoke rising above them. Yet he knew they would be there. Leaving the winding track, he headed for the copse and plunged in between the trunks of some stout elms.

  The men were on their feet, alerted by the sound of approaching hoofbeats. Hands rested on weapons. When they saw who it was, they relaxed and gave him a cheerful welcome. Abraham dismounted and went across to Madog who was holding a piece of half-eaten chicken.

  ‘We didn't expect you so soon,’ said Madog.

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Is it settled already?’

  ‘Not yet.’

  ‘Then why have you come?’

  ‘To warn you of the delay,’ said Abraham, lowering himself on to a fallen log. ‘After hearing my evidence, the commissioners decided to ride out to the Westbury Hundred to view the property for themselves. There will be no more work at the shire hall today. I will have to stay in the city for another night at least.’

  Madog waited. ‘We will remain here.’

  ‘Have you enough to eat?’

  ‘More than enough. Thanks to a kind man who keeps chickens.’

  ‘You stole them?’ chided the archdeacon.

  ‘He had more than enough to spare. But what news of Gloucester? Are these commissioners honourable men? Is there any hope at all that you may carry the day?’

  ‘If justice exists, I will carry it but it is only a faint hope.’

  ‘Those hides are part of Wales!’

  ‘That argument did not impress in the shire hall.’

  ‘It's not an argument but a fact of life.’

  ‘There are other facts of life which we must accept, Madog,’ said the other softly. ‘The main one is that power lies in the hands of the commissioners. Their verdict is final. They are decent men, more honest and reasonable than I dared to expect, but that does not mean they will find in our favour.’

  ‘They must!’

  ‘We shall see. Meanwhile, you'll have to be patient.’ Madog gave a nod and took another bite from the chicken. ‘But there's other news, my friend. The King is due to arrive in Gloucester.’

  ‘The King!’

  Madog was so startled that he spat the chicken straight out. His exclamation brought the rest of the band around them in a circle. They craned their necks to hear the tidings.

  ‘When?’ asked one of them.

  ‘Soon,’ said Abraham, ‘judging by the preparations. I saw them taking provisions to the castle. I stopped a butcher and asked him why he had just delivered so many carcasses to the gate.’

  ‘I know which carcass I'd like to deliver!’ said Madog and gained a patriotic cheer. ‘The King, is it? Well, he's no King of ours.’

  ‘Why is he here?’ asked someone else.

  ‘I have no idea,’ admitted the archdeacon.

  Madog was thoughtful. ‘Bring word as soon as he arrives.’

  ‘I will.’

  ‘This may be an accident that heaven provides. King William. Coming to Gloucester.’ He gave a grim laugh. ‘Within reach at last.’

  Canon Hubert was delighted when he was summoned by Abbot Serlo, and that delight increased when he saw that the latter already had a visitor. The venerable Bishop Wulfstan was waiting to greet him. Educated in a Norman abbey, Hubert took a lordly view of Saxon prelates and held them in low esteem. Wulfstan was the signal exception. Hubert admired him for his intellect and revered him for his spiritual commitment. He just wished that the Bishop of Worcester would divest himself of the filthy lambskin cloak which was already filling the room with a smell of decay.

  ‘Bishop Wulfstan brings interesting news,’ said Serlo.

  Wulfstan hunched his shoulders. ‘Hubert may already know it.’

  ‘Know what?’

  ‘That the King is riding towards us.’

  ‘Coming to Gloucester?’ said Hubert in surprise.

  ‘There,’ said Serlo. ‘He is as astonished as I was.’

  ‘Was the fact of this visit kept from you, Hubert?’

  ‘It appears so, Bishop Wulfstan,’ said the latter, annoyed to learn something so important in this way. ‘What is the nature of the visit?’

  ‘Nobody knows until King William actually gets here.’

  ‘I would value time alone with him myself,’ said Serlo hopefully. ‘Do urge him to visit the abbey. We can discuss my plans for rebuilding the church. That will surely arouse his interest.’

  ‘I will speak up on your behalf, Abbot Serlo.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘When the time calls.’ He turned to Hubert. ‘It is good to renew our acquaintance, Canon Hubert, if only by accident, so to speak. I hear that you are doing valuable work as a royal commissioner.’

  ‘It is a responsibility I shoulder willingly.’

  ‘That is characteristic of you. But let us turn to the reason why I wished to see you,’ said Wulfstan, sucking air in noisily through his few remaining teeth. ‘This appalling crime in the abbey.’

  ‘A sickening event, Bishop Wulfstan.’

  ‘It falls to the sheriff to apprehend the culprit but he, it seems, is convinced that the guilty man is actually a monk at the abbey.’

 
‘A ludicrous notion!’

  ‘That is what I told Durand,’ said the abbot.

  ‘You have my endorsement,’ promised Wulfstan. ‘I would not listen to such nonsense from the sheriff. It is why I turn to you for I believe that you and your colleagues have instituted an inquiry on your own account. Is that true?’

  ‘Up to a point, Bishop Wulfstan.’

  ‘What point is that?’

  ‘We have other demands on our time.’

  ‘Accepted. But you still manage to turn your gaze upon this disgusting act of murder and Abbot Serlo is rightly grateful. Until the crime is solved, the unpleasant atmosphere here will continue.’

  Hubert believed that much of the unpleasantness could be dispelled if the bishop's cloak was either set alight or sprinkled with frankincense but he tactfully suppressed the observation. Instead, he tried to raise all their spirits while parading his own virtues before them.

  ‘There is a hideous symbolism in the murder of a Benedictine monk,’ he declared, ‘and nobody appreciates that more than I do. Limited as my time is, I will devote as much as I can to the pursuit of the killer. I have already examined the two boys who actually stumbled upon the corpse and, I feel, drawn information out of them which Durand the Sheriff failed to elicit. I know the mind of a novice, he does not.’

  ‘Your colleagues, too, have been active,’ remarked Serlo.

  ‘That is so, Abbot Serlo. Under my direction, the lord Ralph and Gervase Bret have been diligent officers. They have searched for clues in the abbey and, at my suggestion, they will look further afield.’

  ‘Most encouraging,’ said Wulfstan. ‘Has progress been made?’

  ‘We believe so.’

  ‘Then you are to be congratulated, Canon Hubert.’

  ‘Yes,’ agreed Serlo, exuding approval. ‘It was a happy coincidence that you came among us at this time. The sheriff is an industrious man but he lacks your insight. Also, of course, he will be rather preoccupied with a royal visitor in his household. My fear is that the murder inquiry will lose impetus. The trail will go cold.’

  ‘Not as long as I am here!’ boasted Hubert.

  ‘The abbey is indebted to you.’

  ‘We all are,’ said Wulfstan. ‘Tell me. What conclusions have you so far reached? Where do you think the killer will be found?’

  Hubert inhaled deeply and enjoyed his moment in the sun.

  On the long ride back to the castle, Ralph Delchard and Gervase Bret had ample time to review their visit to the Westbury Hundred. Though largely inconclusive, it had given them some valuable information.

  ‘We saw the lord Hamelin in his true light,’ said Ralph. ‘He is a different person with armed men at his back.’

  ‘And without his wife.’

  Ralph grinned. ‘I did note her absence.’

  ‘If only his sub-tenants had been more forthcoming.’

  ‘They are frightened rabbits, hardly daring to peep out of their burrows while the lord Hamelin is about.’

  ‘He certainly likes to make his presence felt.’

  ‘I'll do the same when I have him in the shire hall again.’

  ‘With his wife.’

  ‘With, as you predict, the gorgeous lady Emma. How can someone so beautiful be taken in by someone so perfidious?’

  ‘His perfidy has yet to be proven, Ralph.’

  ‘More's the pity!’

  ‘All that we have established is that the lord Hamelin cleverly blurred the boundaries between the various hides. It enabled him to snatch Strang's land from under his very nose.’

  ‘I suspect that he did the same to Querengar.’

  ‘We need to question them all much more closely.’

  Gloucester appeared on the horizon and they rode on in silence for a few minutes, grateful when a light drizzle fell to cool their warm brows. After a period of meditation, Gervase turned to his friend once more.

  ‘I am surprised he has not come to your attention before, Ralph.’

  ‘The lord Hamelin?’

  ‘Yes. If he hails from Lisieux, his estates cannot be far from your own. Has he never been mentioned in reports from Normandy?’

  ‘Only in passing.’

  ‘Yet he spends much time there, it seems,’ said Gervase. ‘That is where he met the lady Emma no doubt. He would certainly not encounter such a woman here.’

  ‘It is the one thing the French can do well.’

  ‘What is?’

  ‘Produce glorious creatures like that.’

  ‘Hereford has its own crop, remember.’

  ‘I do,’ said Ralph guiltily, ‘and Golde is a prime example. In praising the lady Emma, I do not dispraise my own wife. Not to mention yours, Gervase. Alys is living proof that Winchester also has its share of remarkable beauties.’

  ‘I think so.’

  ‘Do you miss her?’

  ‘Sorely.’

  ‘And so you should.’

  ‘I still believe I did right to leave her behind. Alys does not care to travel. She has none of Golde's vitality, I fear. That is the difference between us, Ralph. While I ride back to the castle to pine for my wife, you can look forward to seeing yours.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Ralph.

  But the word was a burning cinder in his throat. He knew that he would face stern questions from Golde.

  When they reached their destination, it was clear that the King and his entourage had not yet arrived. There was an increased vigilance about the sentries and a general nervousness pervaded the castle. Gervase was keen to retire to his apartment but Ralph detained him for a while, reluctant to engage in the stormy confrontation he feared. Left alone at last, he put on his most engaging smile and returned to his chamber. Golde was waiting with icy calm. She knew.

  ‘I'm sorry to be so late, my love,’ he said, depositing a token kiss on her forehead. ‘Gervase and I had to ride out to the Westbury Hundred to solve a tricky problem.’

  ‘And did you solve it?’

  ‘We had only partial success.’

  ‘I'm glad that you feel able to confide the fact to me.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘It is refreshing to be given a taste of honesty again.’

  ‘Golde!’

  ‘Yes?’ she said with laboured sweetness.

  ‘Is this all the welcome I get?’

  ‘I am saving my welcome for King William.’

  ‘So that's it,’ he sighed.

  ‘Yes, Ralph. That is it. The trivial matter of a royal visit which you heard about from the sheriff but which you somehow forgot to mention to your wife. Do you know how much that hurts me?’

  ‘Hurting you is the last thing I want to do.’

  ‘Then why didn't you warn me?’

  ‘Because there was no certainty that the King would come.’

  ‘Could you not have explained that to me?’

  ‘I could,’ he admitted, ‘but I didn't. It was a grave mistake.’

  ‘It was more than that,’ she said, her temper flaring. ‘It was a betrayal. After all you promised! Only last night I lay in your arms and told you how much I loved you because you were so open with me. Now – this!’

  ‘It is not as bad as you think,’ he said, reaching out for her.

  ‘Don't touch me,’ she warned, stepping back to elude him. ‘And don't try to palm me off with an apology because I'm too furious even to listen to it. King William is coming and you failed to tell me. Imagine how foolish I felt when I learned the news from the lady Maud. Learned it and suffered it,’ she said ruefully, ‘for she was so delighted to see that I had been kept in ignorance just like her. How she rubbed my nose in it! It was degrading, Ralph. You were cruel to subject me to it.’

  ‘Not deliberately, Golde.’

  ‘I've hardly stirred outside this chamber since.’

  ‘Come here,’ he said gently, offering his arms again.

  ‘No – stay away.’

  ‘Golde!’

  ‘This is not something which can be kis
sed away, Ralph. You took a deliberate decision not to tell me something I ought to have known.’

  ‘The sheriff swore me to secrecy.’

  ‘Did that mean your wife had to be excluded?’

  ‘I thought so.’

  ‘And do you think so now?’

  ‘No, I was wrong. I confess it frankly. As for the lady Maud,’ he said vengefully, ‘I'll not have her mocking my wife. I'll speak to her sharply on the subject and it will not happen again, I assure you.’

  Golde was livid. ‘I don't need you to fight my battles for me and I certainly don't want you to go charging in to make a bad situation far worse with your heavy-handed interference. No, Ralph,’ she said, shaking with rage, ‘I can take care of myself. But I would rather fight battles of my own making than be landed in them by you. Especially when you've taken away the one weapon I need to defend myself.’

  Ralph was distraught. Unable to comfort her, he sought a means of atonement but he had no idea what it might be. Gesturing his apology to her, he made one last attempt to enfold her in an embrace. Her hostile stare made him freeze. Reconciliation was still too far off. Golde moved to sit on the bed, her back to him, and Ralph decided to give her time to calm down and let himself quietly out of the room. After the unexpected venom of her attack, he needed a chance to recuperate.

  His host was in no mood to give it to him. When they met on the stairs, Durand the Sheriff was at his most wrathful. He let out a growl.

  ‘I was looking for you, my lord!’ he said menacingly.

  ‘Has the King arrived yet?’

  ‘Forget him. We need to talk about the abbey. Bishop Wulfstan has just come from there and I could not believe what he told me.’

  ‘I never believe bishops myself,’ said Ralph. ‘On principle.’

  ‘According to him, you have been going behind my back. You and Master Bret and that bloated Canon Hubert are trying to discharge my office for me by holding your own murder inquiry.’

  ‘That is not strictly true, my lord.’

  ‘I had it from Wulfstan himself. He told me how Canon Hubert ridiculed my efforts and bragged about your own. Apparently, you have discovered clues which I am too bone-headed to find. Is this so, my lord?’ he demanded, eyes alight. ‘Must we address you as Ralph the Sheriff from now on? Am I to quit the castle and let you be constable in my stead?’

  ‘Of course not.’