The Lions of the North d-4 Page 17

  “Nor I. It was my lord Tanchelm who discovered the coincidence. He said that you and Gervase mentioned him several times when you discussed a case of your own.”

  “Mentioned whom?”

  “The half-brother of Robert Brossard.”

  “And who might that be?”

  “Nigel Arbarbonel.”

  Whooping with delight, Nigel Arbarbonel rode his horse at a gallop towards the hill with his men-at-arms behind him like a giant swal-lowtail. He had left York with a feeling of exhilaration that never abated. Everything had worked out to his satisfaction. His estates had been preserved, his enemies routed and the tribunal confounded. His position in the county would henceforth be invincible. He was once more a law unto himself.

  When he reached the crest of the hill, he reined in his mount and looked down at the vale ahead. Sitting at its heart was a large house with a thatched roof. A cluster of outbuildings stood nearby. The place looked deserted but it had a solidity and sense of purpose that gave it a lustre.

  Nigel Arbarbonel spoke to the man beside him.

  “The house of Thorbrand,” he sneered.

  “Well-placed and well-built, my lord.”

  “It offends my eye.”

  “You thought to live there yourself at one time.”

  “No,” corrected Nigel with a smirk. “I thought to stay there for a night or two when the fancy took me. But the lady would not have me as her lodger so I drove her and her mother out to meaner habitation.

  The house disgusts me now.”

  “What will you do with it, my lord?”

  “Destroy it!”

  “Why?”

  “Because it reminds them,” he said. “It brings back memories of the time when Thorbrand owned and farmed this whole vale. Those days are gone for good and they must be taught that. As long as that house stands, they will hope.” He gestured to some of his men. “Burn it!”

  Four of them immediately cantered down into the vale. Nigel Arbarbonel watched with malignant pleasure as the first plume of smoke began to rise.

  “They will see it as they ride past,” he said.

  “When will that be, my lord?”

  “When they tire of waiting in York for a victory that will not come.

  The commissioners will not resume their business until they have solved a murder. And they will never do that.” A knowing grin appeared.

  “Never!”

  “What else did she say about him?” asked Gervase Bret.

  “How courteous and attentive he was,” said Golde. “My lord Tanchelm talked with Herleve for hours. More to the point, he listened to her.”

  “I am sure he did,” murmured Ralph Delchard.

  “That was what impressed her most.”

  Golde had been a revelation. She was in the solar with the two of them, recounting her conversation with their hostess, though omit-ting any reference to the problems within Herleve’s marriage. What Ralph and Gervase really wanted to hear was any detail about Tanchelm of Ghent. Golde talked at length on the subject and they came to see how guileful he had been in his dealings with Herleve.

  Tanchelm had a genuine respect for the lady but that did not prevent him from gathering information with great dexterity from her while appearing to offer a sympathetic ear.

  “Where is she now?” asked Ralph.

  “With the chaplain. He is taking confession.”

  “What sins does she have to confess? She has led a blameless life and is an example to us all.”

  “Herleve feels the need to be shriven,” said Golde.

  “You perform that office for me, my love.”

  “Hardly!”

  “You cleanse my soul.”

  Golde smiled before excusing herself. She could see that they wished to be alone to discuss the murder inquiry and she left the solar without realising how much she had just contributed to their investigation.

  Ralph was uneasy.

  “We should have told her.”

  “No,” said Gervase. “Golde must not know.”

  “I feel so cruel at having to deceive her.”

  “The deception is necessary, I fear. If she learns the truth, she will be drawn into a game that she is not really qualified to play. It will place an immense strain on her and that might well show.”

  “Yes,” said Ralph. “You are perhaps right.”

  “I know I am,” said Gervase with a modest smile. “Did I see you below in the courtyard with Canon Hubert earlier?”

  “You did. For once, we had a useful conversation.”

  “What was its content?”

  Ralph related the whole story and his friend listened with rapt attention. By the time the tale was over, Gervase had come to a decision.

  He slapped a palm onto his knee.

  “I must go to see him!”

  “Who?”

  “Olaf Evil Child.”

  “Whatever for?”

  “Because he is a crucial figure in all this, Ralph.”

  “Yes. Olaf stole our sumpter-horses!”

  “He may yet help to solve a more serious crime.”

  “How?”

  “I do not know. But I must meet him.”

  “Are you insane?”

  “Probably.”

  “You cannot treat with an outlaw.”

  “My lord Tanchelm did.”

  Gervase weighed his promise to Inga against his duty to Ralph. The two commissioners were bonded so closely together in an act of deception that it was perverse to keep vital information from each other.

  Notwithstanding his friendship with the castellan, Ralph’s discretion could be relied upon now that matters of state were involved. Gervase no longer felt that he was betraying Inga by releasing details of what had passed between them.

  “I will tell you why I need to see Olaf,” he said.

  “To pursue a career as a horse thief?”

  “No, Ralph. Be patient and you will hear.”

  Gervase explained in detail. Ralph heard but without any pretence of being patient. He spluttered throughout and was puce with indignation at the end.

  “Why on earth did you not tell me?” he demanded.

  “I gave my word to Inga.”

  “And is she more important than me?”

  “She was, in this instance.”

  “Gervase!”

  “I am sorry, Ralph, but I could not take the risk.”

  “What risk? We are friends!”

  “I hope so.”

  “Then why lie to me?”

  “Because you are also a friend of my lord Aubrey.”

  “Ah!” He was stopped in full flow. “I begin to see.”

  “You might have told him.”

  “Not if you had impressed upon me the need to say nothing. Not if you have confided the full truth.”

  “You know it now, Ralph.”

  “Do I?”

  “Every syllable.”

  “You should have trusted me.”

  “I did. Inga did not.” Ralph smarted in silence. “Not a word of this must reach my lord Aubrey. If he learns the identity of the intruder, he will have the remains dug up and further abused. Then he will turn his rage on Inga.”

  “I know how he feels!” said Ralph grimly.

  “She is not to blame for any of this.”

  Ralph sat forward with his face in his hands as he tried to take in all that he had heard. The name of Olaf Evil Child occurred too often in the story to be overlooked. Why had he stolen their horses but returned their apparel? Why had Tanchelm tried to contact him and what had he hoped to gain from the outlaw? Was it conceivable that Olaf was involved in something far more deadly than robbery on the highway? What was the cause of the feud between Olaf and Aubrey Maminot? When Ralph sat up, his head was spinning.

  “We must reach him somehow, Gervase.”

  “I will go without you.”

  “But you will need me there to protect you.”

  “That would only frighten Olaf a
way. A troop of Norman soldiers is not an olive branch.”

  “I want to capture the man-not sue for peace!”

  “That is why I must be the emissary here.”

  “You are dealing with a vicious outlaw!”

  “Then why does he seek legal redress? His name is listed among our claimants. That shows he has some faith in the power of law.”

  “He’ll feel the power of my sword when I catch him!”

  “Let me handle him more civilly.”

  “At least take some of my men.”

  “No, Ralph.”

  “A small escort. There are other outlaw bands at large. You might be set on before you got anywhere near Olaf.”

  “I will have to take that chance,” said Gervase. “I can slip away from York without being noticed. If you and I set off together with your men-at-arms, it will be remarked upon and secrecy is of the essence.”

  “That is certainly true.”

  “While I am gone, you can pursue other lines of enquiry here. My lord Tanchelm learned something of great import and was silenced by an assassin. You must retrace his steps to find out what he did. But stealthily, Ralph.”

  “I know the dangers.”

  “We must both tread warily from now on.”

  “Do not worry about me,” said Ralph. “Think only of your own safety.

  I have a troop of men within call. You have none. This could prove an act of suicide.”

  “I must see Olaf Evil Child.”

  “Alone?”

  “No,” said Gervase. “I will take Inga.”

  Brunn the Priest was fearful when he learned her intentions.

  “It is too hazardous, Inga.”

  “I will have Master Bret beside me.”

  “One man cannot protect you.”

  “We will travel with caution.”

  “Sunnifa will be distraught when she hears the news.”

  “That is why it must be kept from her,” said Inga. “I tell you so that you may invent a story to cover my absence. Mother has worries enough.

  Spare her more anguish.”

  “What if you do not return?”

  Inga refused even to consider the possibility. She had brought the priest from their lodging for a special purpose. When they reached the churchyard, she pointed out the place where Toki’s remains had been buried.

  “Say a prayer over his grave,” she begged.

  “There has already been a service of burial.”

  “Not for Toki. A nameless man was lowered into the earth. The chaplain did not know him as you do. Toki deserves to be laid to rest by his own priest.”

  “He will be.”

  “I have a larger favour to ask.”

  “What is it?”

  “Toki lies in the shadow of the castle where he was killed,” she said. “Every time I look up at it, I think of the agonies of his death. He will never sleep easily here.”

  “We have no choice in the matter.”

  “I want his bones to lie beside our own church.”

  “But that is impossible,” said Brunn in consternation. “Toki cannot be exhumed. That would need the permission of Archbishop Thomas himself. Do not ask what is beyond my power to give you, Inga.”

  “There has to be a way.”

  “Believe me, there is not.”

  Inga looked sadly in the direction of the grave. Toki belonged near her.

  But huge obstacles had to be negotiated first and Gervase Bret was the only person who could help her to do that. She squeezed Brunn’s arm.

  “I must away. Say nothing of this to Mother.”

  “It would break her heart. I implore you not to leave!”

  “The decision is made.”

  “Consider again!” pleaded Brunn. “Olaf Evil Child is an outlaw. He and his band live in the trees like wild animals. They will show no respect to a woman, Inga. You may be …”

  “Look to Mother. That is all I ask.”

  He shook with trepidation. “God go with you!”

  “I am not afraid. We will soon return to York.”

  “You may be gone for days. Olaf Evil Child could be anywhere in the county. However will you find him?”

  “We will not,” she said. “He will find us.”

  Ralph Delchard chafed at the bit of his task. While Gervase Bret rode off in search of an outlaw, Ralph was left to work covertly in York.

  Their roles were reversed. He felt that the quiet and inconspicuous Gervase could more easily glide into the shadows where Tanchelm of Ghent had gone, while he himself would be more suited to an adven-turesome encounter with Olaf Evil Child. Recrimination was point-less. The duties had been assigned and Ralph set about his at once.

  “Come and join us!” invited Aubrey Maminot.

  “I will stay on this side of the bars.”

  “Romulus and Remus will not hurt you.”

  “They will not get the chance.”

  “You are perfectly safe while Ludovico and I are in here. Step inside, Ralph. Be a lion yourself.”

  It was feeding time. The castellan and the keeper of the beasts were inside the cage with the animals. Romulus and Remus did not even look up when Ralph came down to watch them. They were too busy devouring their fresh meat with growling relish. Aubrey patted each one of them before strolling over to his visitor.

  “I have never known you to shirk a challenge.”

  “Your lions already have a meal.”

  Aubrey chuckled. “Do you hear that, Ludovico.”

  Hands on hips, the Italian turned to appraise Ralph.

  “My lord Ralph is a stranger,” he said. “They would not like that. He is better where he is. Romulus and Remus would only be unsettled.”

  “They were highly unsettled this morning,” noted Ralph. “When you tried to get them back into their cage.”

  “That was most unusual,” said Aubrey.

  “Yes,” added Ludovico. “They have been punished for it. They were like naughty children. They will not misbehave again. I will see to that.”

  He crouched beside Romulus and stroked his mane.

  “Look at them,” said Aubrey. “My twin sentinels. The other castle has a huge moat to defend it, built at enormous expense. I have Romulus and Remus. They are my moat.”

  “They do not stop intruders from getting into the castle,” reminded Ralph. “You would have to give them the run of the courtyard to ensure that.”

  “They are here to protect the keep.”

  “Is that why you brought them to England?”

  “It is part of the reason.”

  “You said that they were a gift.”

  “Yes, Ralph. In Rome.”

  “What took you there?”

  “I was visiting friends. Seeing the city.”

  “Were the cubs born in captivity?”

  “They were,” said Aubrey. “Their mother was brought to Rome from Africa. A fierce animal. She did not like it when we took her cubs away. Ludovico still has the scars.”

  The Italian scowled. It was not a memory he cared to have discussed. Aubrey let himself out of the cage to stand beside Ralph. The murder inquiry was now his priority.

  “My lord sheriff arrives in York this afternoon.”

  “I would speak with him.”

  “We will do so together, Ralph. I wish to lodge a strong complaint against his deputy. The fellow was not pursuing the killer with sufficient zeal. I had to take him to task about it this morning.”

  “What if the murderer has already fled the city?”

  “Search parties have gone out from my own garrison. I mean to find this villain, whatever the cost. A man who strikes at an honoured guest of mine strikes also at me. I have taken further steps to appre-hend him….”

  Aubrey explained in detail how many of his own soldiers had been committed to the hunt and what their precise duties were. Ralph was only half listening. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something that he had not noticed at first. The floor of the cage was stre
wn with rushes but they had been flicked about by the prowling occupants and bare patches had been exposed. One such patch intrigued Ralph.

  The edge of a trapdoor was visible.

  It was only when they left the city that they realized how fearsome a task they had set themselves. Plans had been easy to make within the encircling safety of York but they no longer had its high walls and its garrisons to protect them. Gervase Bret and Inga were two lonely travellers who were hostages to fortune. Impelled by hope and sustained by faith, they rode north.

  “When were they sighted?” he asked.

  “Yesterday.”

  “In the Forest of Galtres?”

  “That was the rumour.”

  “How reliable is it?”

  “I do not know.”

  “So we may be heading in the wrong direction?”

  “Olaf Evil Child will have scouts all around the city. We must pray that one of them sees us and takes us to him.”

  They rode a couple of miles at a rising trot. Those who passed them on their way to York travelled in groups for safety and shot them surprised glances. Gervase was armed with sword and dagger, but one man would be no match for a band of robbers, and Inga carried no weapon. The further they went from the city, the more reckless their venture seemed. They tried to keep up their spirits with conversation.

  “How did you learn to speak our language?” he said.

  “Brunn the Priest taught me.”

  “But you have a readier command of the tongue.”

  “He showed me how to read and write,” she explained. “The rest I picked up from my lord Nigel and his men. They haunted our land while my father was alive. I have a good ear. Whenever they came, I picked up something new.”

  “What made you take an interest in the first place?”

  “My father.”

  “Did not Thorbrand wish you to learn Danish instead?”

  “No, Master Bret. He feared that you had come to stay. We had to fight the Normans with their own weapons.”

  “I am not a Norman,” he reminded her.

  “You serve a Norman king.”

  “That makes no difference.”

  “It does to me. You sit in judgement on my people.”

  “I am not doing that now, Inga.”

  “No,” she said. “And you do not have soldiers to give your voice authority now. You are a brave man.”

  “I need to see Olaf Evil Child.”

  “Why?”

  “For the same reason as you. To ask after a friend.”