The Lions of the North d-4 Page 23

  “You were plotting with our mortal enemies.”

  “With or against?”

  “You will not wriggle out of this, Aubrey,” said Ralph. “We know everything. Dates and times of your secret meetings. The nationalities of your guests. How they sneaked in and out of the castle without being seen.” He pointed with his sword. “Do you deny this?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Tanchelm died because he learned the same.”

  “No, Ralph. Your guesswork is woefully adrift there.”

  “You had him murdered.”

  “Ludovico killed him,” said Aubrey, unperturbed. “That is all I will say about the event itself. I can enlighten you about the motive, however. Tanchelm was murdered not for being a spy but for not being a willing tradesman.”

  “Tradesman?”

  “Someone with an eye for a good bargain. You have it. Golde is proof of that. You will trade. He would not.” He indicated the sword. “Make a gesture, Ralph. Put it away.”

  After a moment’s consideration, he sheathed the weapon.

  “That is better. Now we can talk on equal terms. Tell me about this high treason I am supposed to have committed. You and Tanchelm have dogged my steps between you. What exactly did you find out?”

  “The threat of a Danish invasion has been there for months,” said Ralph crisply. “They have the ships and they have the men. What they needed before they sailed was an ally in York itself. Someone with the power to unlock the city to them when they sail up the River Ouse.”

  “They come from the east, then?”

  “Of course. Up the Humber Estuary.”

  Aubrey chuckled. “That is your first mistake, Ralph. I fear that Tanchelm of Ghent made it as well. Both of you looked in the wrong direction. Turn your eyes to the west. That is where my guests hailed from.”

  “Irish Danes?”

  “They have ambitions, too.”

  “And you treated with them?”

  “Several times. I confess it freely.”

  “Then is your treason published.”

  “Is it?” Aubrey strolled across to him. “Who is the betrayer and who the betrayed here? I wooed the Irish Danes to draw their plans out of them. I did the same with the Scots. If you have talked to my fiery cook, you will know I have had guests from north of the border as well.

  They asked for my help and I offered to give it.”

  “Why?”

  “To insinuate myself into their counsels.”

  “The King was not made aware of this strategy.”

  “It is delicate work, Ralph. Winning the confidence first of the Irish Danes, then of the Scots. Patience is required. Commit it to paper and disaster threatens.”

  “So you are no traitor. Is that what you claim?”

  “I feign treachery to entrap our enemies.”

  “Can you really expect me to believe you?”

  “No,” said Aubrey with a grin. “Follow me.”

  He moved to take one of the torches from its holder and Ralph put a precautionary hand on the hilt of his sword, but the castellan did not try to use it as a weapon. Instead, beckoning the other to follow, he went back through the trapdoor and down the steps. Ralph went after him at a discreet distance. When he reached the chest, Aubrey produced a key from a ring at his waist, then offered the torch to Ralph. The latter held it so that his host could unlock the chest.

  “Not herbs, perhaps,” he said happily, “but something that will sweeten any man’s dream. Behold!”

  He lifted the lid, then stood back out of the way. Ralph was amazed.

  A veritable treasure chest stood before him. It was crammed with gold, silver, jewelled ornaments and dozens of bags of coins. Lying in amongst the wealth were piles of charters and sheaves of letters. Aubrey reached in to retrieve a large purse and an accompanying letter.

  “Here,” he said. “Read this. Written to me by an emissary of King Malcolm of Scotland.” He held up the purse. “This was the payment that came with it. There are letters and gifts from Dublin as well, but your Danish is probably not adequate. This is the sum of my treason, Ralph.”

  “Leading on foreign powers for your own advantage.”

  “I want some return for my cunning, of course,” said Aubrey. “I may squeeze money out of them but I also squeeze their plans and their troop deployments.” He tossed the purse and letter back into the chest.

  “Look at it, Ralph. I have grown rich playing our enemies off each other.”

  “That is one way of looking at it.”

  “What is the other?”

  “You are biding your time,” decided Ralph. “Conspiring with the enemy in order to betray them, yet ready to join them if their invasions promise success. You are watching the tide to see which wave will carry you furthest.”

  “I am an opportunist, that is all.”

  “No, Aubrey. You are a traitor-in-waiting.”

  “I am loyal to my king and country.”

  “But which king? And of which country?”

  “Ralph …,” coaxed the other.

  “You have sold your soul, Aubrey.”

  “At least I have something to show for it.” His face hardened. “We came to the North together. We killed its people and burned its houses and destroyed its crops. Then you went away. But I stayed, Ralph. I saw potential in a ruined land. I rebuilt this castle, enlarged my holdings and used every means at my disposal to extend my power. It has made me the wealthiest man in York. I more or less own this city.”

  “Not anymore.”

  “This is only part of my treasure.”

  “It will all be confiscated and put to good use.”

  “Put some of it to good use yourself,” said Aubrey, running his hand through some gold coins. “We are friends, Ralph. Take your share to seal that friendship. Trade with me.”

  “No, Aubrey.”

  “Take it,” urged the other, offering the coins.

  “No!”

  Ralph slammed down the lid of the chest with finality. Aubrey abandoned all hope of bribing his way out of his predicament. Pushing Ralph away, he darted along the passage and back up the stairs. Torch in hand, Ralph went after him but the castellan was not trying to escape. He was only running for help. He unlocked the gate that led to the outside and stepped swiftly through it.

  “Romulus!” he called. “Remus! Kill him!”

  Ralph followed him out but froze immediately. Obeying the command of their master, the two lions were bounding up the incline.

  Olaf Evil Child led his men into the city with the farmers streaming in to sell their produce in the market. Having followed their leader thus far, Eric and the others dispersed to attract less attention. Olaf and Ragnar Longfoot rode on to the castle alone. True to his word, Gervase Bret had left instructions that they were to be admitted. As the guard swung back the gate, the newcomers went through to find the whole castle in a state of uproar.

  Soldiers were yelling from the walls, women were screaming from the windows of the keep and every animal in the castle was swelling the chorus of alarm. Olaf and Ragnar gaped at what they saw on the mound. Torch in one hand and sword in the other, a man was trying to fend off two snarling lions. A second man, standing to the side, was exhorting the beasts to attack and dancing in glee as they did so.

  Olaf’s instinct was to help and his brain worked fast. Swinging his horse around, he galloped out of the courtyard. Ragnar Longfoot responded differently. While Olaf saw only a man in distress, Ragnar saw the beasts that had killed Toki. He dismounted quickly and ran to the nearest staircase.

  Ralph Delchard, meanwhile, was fending off Romulus and Remus as best he could, jabbing sword and flame at them while trying to keep clear of their flashing paws. The ear-splitting noise was a distraction to him but it only served to incite the animals to greater ferocity. Herleve was screeching from one window, Golde crying from another and the rest of the household fighting to watch through every available aperture.

  The cont
est was cruelly uneven but nobody intervened. Aubrey ordered his men to hold off and they, in turn, stopped Ralph’s own soldiers from coming to his aid. Ralph’s escorts were forced to watch with revulsion as their lord struggled to stay alive. It was only a matter of time before his strength waned and the lions overpowered him.

  Aubrey Maminot was in his element, urging the beasts to tear their quarry to pieces and looking for the chance to assist them in some way. As Ralph backed towards him, the castellan jumped forward and pushed him off balance. A shout of horror went up as Ralph lost his balance and rolled helplessly down the mound to the ditch at the bottom. The torch was knocked from his hand and he was left with only a sword to defend himself.

  Remus was nonplussed for a moment but Romulus went in pursuit of his prey. Running down the hill, he sprang into the air with paws outstretched. Ragnar’s spear hit him hard in the side and knocked all the life out of him. Ralph dodged out of the way as the lion’s body thudded down beside him. Up on the wall, Ragnar Longfoot was cut down by half a dozen of Aubrey’s men but he went happily to his death. He had avenged Toki and proved his courage.

  Remus went straight to his brother. Bleeding profusely and growling his last, Romulus was twitching about on the ground, the spear still buried deep inside him. Ralph backed gingerly away but he did not get far. Remus came at him again, lashing out with his paws and searching for a moment to pounce. The sword was an inadequate defence and Ralph could do no more than poke it in the lion’s face as he kept on the retreat. When he lost his footing again, he tumbled over.

  Aubrey yelled in triumph, Remus moved in and the crowd shrieked with terror. It was then that another figure joined in the contest.

  Bursting through the door of the cage, Gervase Bret came slithering down the mound with a lighted torch in each hand, waving the flames in circles and shouting at the top of his voice to attract attention.

  Remus was distracted long enough for Ralph to get to his feet and to take one of the torches from Gervase as the latter came down to him.

  The lion was perplexed. Fire, noise and the dying moans of Romulus confused him. Aubrey was enraged. He came skidding down the incline himself to take control.

  “Kill them, Remus!” he ordered. “Kill, kill!”

  With the fiercest roar yet, the lion sprang in the air and flattened Aubrey with his impetus. Claws cut through his tunic and the angry mouth closed over his face. The women at the windows turned away as the creature mauled his master. Ralph and Gervase did what they could to draw the lion away but their efforts were in vain.

  Some of the garrison opened the gate in the fence and poured through to rescue their master, poking at Remus with sword and spear. The animal rounded on them angrily, howling with pain as the weapons dug into him. Scattering the soldiers, he loped out through the gate and across the courtyard, setting off hysteria in the stables and the chicken coops. It was Olaf Evil Child who had the solution. Riding into the courtyard with a fisherman’s net in his hand, he flung it over Remus with great accuracy and the animal was completely enmeshed.

  Before the beast could fight his way out of his prison, soldiers hacked him to death.

  Ralph was wounded but alive. Gervase was breathless but unhurt.

  Lying on the grass, Aubrey Maminot was a bleeding remnant of high treason.

  The lions of the North would kill no more.

  EPILOGUE

  Brunn the priest officiated at the ceremony. The exhumation of Toki’s body was carried out in the drizzle of an early morning. Two gravediggers worked sedulously with their spades while the priest and his impromptu congregation looked on. Supported by her mother, Inga was dry-eyed but deeply moved. Toki’s bones would be translated to the tiny churchyard near their home. Her beloved would lie at rest beside his friend Ragnar Longfoot.

  The knot of onlookers included Aubrey Bret and Ralph Delchard.

  Behind them stood Canon Hubert and Philip the Chaplain. They watched in silence as the rough wooden coffin was lifted out of the earth and carried across to a cart, then draped with a cloth. It would have a slow and respectful journey to its new resting place.

  The horse plodded and the cart moved off. Chanting a prayer, Brunn fell in behind it with Inga and Sunnifa. When the tiny procession was out of earshot, Ralph turned to Gervase.

  “However did they get permission to move him?”

  “It was not easy,” said Gervase.

  “Only the relics of a saint are translated like that. I never met this Toki, but it does not sound to me as if he had the makings of a saint.”

  “He is a martyr in Inga’s eyes.”

  “That is not the same thing.”

  “We owe it all to Canon Hubert’s kind intercession,” explained Gervase. “He spoke in person to Archbishop Thomas and laid the case before him. When the chaplain buried him, Toki was a nameless victim of Romulus and Remus. Hubert argued that a second ceremony would really be a first proper burial and therefore permissible.”

  “And the archbishop acceded to the request?”

  “Not at first, Ralph.”

  “Why not?”

  “He believed that it would set a dangerous precedent.”

  “Did he need more persuasion?”

  “Much more. But he softened towards the notion when Hubert told him of our decision to leave the confiscated treasure of my lord Aubrey at the minster until the King decides what shall be done with it.”

  Ralph chuckled. “Good old Hubert! Putting Aubrey’s illgotten wealth to a Christian purpose.”

  “Do I hear my name being taken in vain?” said Hubert.

  “On the contrary,” said Ralph. “We are praising you.”

  “Thank you, my lord.”

  “You should have been a diplomat.”

  “I am.”

  There was work awaiting them at the shire hall. The three of them took their leave of Philip the Chaplain and walked away from the shadow of the castle.

  “What news of Brother Francis?” asked Gervase.

  Canon Hubert smiled. “He is sorely troubled.”

  “Expelled from the Order?”

  “No, Master Bret. Kept within it to be punished.”

  “He committed no real crime,” said Gervase. “All he did was eavesdrop on our conversations and report them back to my lord Aubrey.”

  “That was crime enough,” decided Ralph.

  “Yes,” said Hubert, “and he has confessed it in the most abject way.

  Brother Francis did not realise to what foul use the information he supplied was being put. He was mortified.” His cheeks dimpled again.

  “Father Abbot assured me that his mortification would continue for some time.”

  “Is he to listen to your sermons, then?” joked Ralph.

  “No, my lord. He is to be given responsibility for the latrines at the abbey. A lowly duty but one that will teach him to serve his brothers with all humility.”

  “We shall miss his elegant hand.”

  “It is being put to a more basic purpose,” said Hubert. “Besides, we have Brother Simon to fulfil our needs.”

  “The four of us are together again,” noted Gervase.

  “Yes,” said Ralph, surprising himself with his enthusiasm. “I am quite looking forward to it. Canon Hubert and I seem to have reached an understanding at last.”

  Hubert allowed himself a rare excursion into humour.

  “I will strive to educate you further, my lord.”

  It was a paradox. In interrupting their work, the murder of Tanchelm of Ghent actually shortened their stay in York. The chest beneath the empty cage at the castle was found to contain charters and leases that had a direct bearing on the disputes under review. Armed with a fund of documentary material, the tribunal was able to pronounce judgement at a fairly brisk rate.

  Pleased to be reunited, the four of them worked in greater harmony than they had ever achieved before. Events in York had given them a notoriety that lent them an added authority. Murder had been solved.<
br />
  High treason averted. Ralph Delchard and Gervase Bret were entitled to feel their visit to the city had been a successful one.

  When they departed from York, the commissioners were waved off by the grateful Inga. With their land restored, she and her mother could live with more dignity now. Toki had gone but Olaf Evil Child was allowing a decent interval to elapse before he showed his interest in her. In the meantime, he had work to do on the holdings that had been taken from Robert Brossard and returned to him by decision of the tribunal.

  Ralph rode with Golde at the head of the cavalcade. When they were clear of York, she gave her curiosity full vent.

  “And now may I be told what was going on?” she said.

  “You already know as much as you need, my love.”

  “I do not, Ralph. And it is vexing.”

  “Ask what you will, then.”

  “Why did my lord Tanchelm travel with us?”

  “For the pleasure of our company.”

  “Give me a serious answer.”

  “He was only doing what we do. Obeying orders.”

  “But what kind of orders?”

  “It matters not, my love. They died with him.”

  “And that is another thing I do not understand,” she continued. “He was strangled at the shire hall because he unbolted the shutters at the rear of the building. How did Ludovico know that he would be alone?”

  “It was on Aubrey’s advice.”

  “And how did my lord Aubrey know?”

  “He knew everything, Golde,” said Ralph. “When a man is that powerful, he attracts many parasites. Tanchelm’s letter to Olaf Evil Child was intercepted, then sent on. It was vital that our Fleming was killed away from the castle and Aubrey had the perfect chance. He knew the time and place when the victim would be alone in the shire hall with a private mode of entry already set up.”

  “So Ludovico was dispatched as the assassin.”

  “Yes,” said Ralph. “He scattered the charters on the table to make it look as if they were his target and to throw us off the scent. Aubrey hoped to snare Olaf at the same time but he was too cunning for Aubrey’s men. Too cunning for me as well, I might add. I still think it was a mistake to award that land to a horse thief.”