The Cross Legged Knight (37 page)

‘Then someone is worried what he might tell you. There is someone in the garden.’

Lucie caught her breath. ‘Are you certain?’

‘I sensed them as I came from the shop.’

‘Thank God you were not attacked. Did you call out?’

‘I thought it best to fetch my dagger.’ Jasper patted his right forearm. ‘Do you want me in the garden, or in the hall with you?’

Perhaps Edgar had been followed, or had brought a companion. ‘Stay with me until I have a sense of him.’

‘Merciful Mother,’ Kate muttered as she lit the way with the lamp.

Satisfied that his men were ready for the worst on the morrow, Owen crossed the garden towards the palace to assure Wykeham it was so. The guard at the rear door of the great hall stepped aside as Owen approached.

‘Have you noted anything out of joint?’ Owen asked.

‘No, Captain. All is quiet.’

‘Good. Pray the peace continues.’

In the hall he found the Fitzbaldrics, Wykeham and Alain discussing the whereabouts of Thoresby and Michaelo. It seemed they had not appeared for dinner.

Sitting just outside the pool of light that a lamp threw on the benches near the brazier, Edgar, in his dark
clerk’s gown, seemed determined to blend into the shadows.

He rose as Lucie approached. ‘Forgive me for waking you, Mistress Wilton. Mistress Ferriby sent me to tell you what I know about the night of the fire. And the behaviour of Lady Pagnell’s steward since then.’ Sweat beaded the stocky man’s forehead.

‘It is so important that you come at night? Surely if you have waited this long …’

‘My mistress believed Captain Archer might wish to hear my tale before Lady Pagnell goes to the palace with Matthew on the morrow.’ Edgar glanced towards the windows.

‘Does something worry you?’

‘Matthew has ways of hearing things. I thought – but it was the echo of my footsteps as I hurried here.’ He blew a strand of hair from his brow.

‘Sit down, I pray you.’

Again Edgar chose a spot just beyond the light.

‘Tell me about Matthew. I know you share a bed in the hall.’

‘Matthew was out all the night of the fire. Just before dawn he crept in with his shoes in his hands and slipped into bed. He smelled of sweat – I thought he had been with a woman – and he was stripped to his shift. He had worn a tunic when he departed the evening before. I have not seen that tunic since. But I believe it is among his things – he has been uneasy about me going near the chest in which he keeps his belongings.’

‘Why did you not mention this before?’

‘I am a coward, I have no other excuse, God knows. I told myself that I did not wish to cause more strife between my mistress and her mother. Lady Pagnell already blames me for Ivo’s and John’s accident at the lady chapel. She says I have not given the boys
sufficient moral training. Mistress Ferriby has defended me.’ He pressed his temples as if the situation gave him a headache. ‘But in truth, fear kept me silent.’

Lucie excused herself a moment to confer with Jasper, who sat in the shadows seemingly with one eye on Edgar and one on the windows.

‘Have you seen anything?’

‘It is quarter moon and cloudy, so it is even more difficult than usual to see from within. But something woke Melisende. Look.’

The cat lay on a cushioned chair, her ear cocked, one eye opened slightly.

‘Pretend you are crossing the garden to the shop. Try to do it exactly as you are wont to do. If you sense anyone out there, go through the shop and out to the tavern. Fetch Tom.’

Jasper nodded solemnly and began to move away.

Lucie feared she was asking more of him than she should of a lad but fourteen. She caught his forearm. When he met her eyes, his gaze was calm, confident.

‘Remember all that Owen has taught you,’ Lucie said. ‘And God go with you.’

Jasper bobbed his head. ‘Make a racket if he proves false.’ He departed by the door that led to the passageway from house to kitchen.

‘Where is he going?’ Edgar asked.

‘To the York Tavern, for help. You were uncomfortable walking here alone, were you not?’

‘I feel a fool for even mentioning it.’

Lucie hoped her smile was reassuring. She thanked God she had not taken the tonic with the sleepwort and valerian.

At first Thoresby found it impossible to hear anything over the clatter of Maeve and her maid, the creaks in
the floorboards, the grumbling in his stomach, even his own breath. But as he calmed, he distinguished the sound of a woman weeping.

‘I am in hell … and all for you,’ Poins said, straining his voice to a hoarse shout, ‘and you point the finger … at me, accusing me … of murdering Cisotta? Then damn you. Damn you!’

‘No, no, I never spoke! I said nothing,’ May sobbed.

‘All night … I see her lying there … in the flames … beautiful Cisotta. I could do nothing.’

Other things were murmured but Thoresby could not make them out. He motioned for Michaelo to kneel at the knot hole.

‘My hearing is not what it was,’ Thoresby whispered.

Michaelo lowered himself until he was lying prone on the floor, his ear to the hole.

Thoresby fought the urge to pace and held himself motionless.

Wykeham had stepped aside with Owen, listening with attention to the plans for the defence of the palace. When he had exhausted his questions, he motioned to Alain. ‘Fetch Guy. We must discuss our strategy for tomorrow’s meeting.’ As the clerk departed, Wykeham said, ‘I do not understand what has come over Guy of late. I cannot depend upon him as I have in the past.’

‘How well do you know your clerks, My Lord?’

Wykeham cocked his head. ‘Why do you ask?’

‘The deeds of the properties Lady Pagnell is considering –’ Owen was distracted by the sight of Thoresby rushing into the hall from the kitchen corridor, his elegant gown, the colour of lapis lazuli, flapping in the breeze of his passage. His long, bony face was pink with exertion, his eyes anxious.

‘Archer, come with me,’ Thoresby said breathlessly.
He bowed to the gathered diners. ‘I have told Maeve to serve dinner. Do not wait for me. I shall come when I can.’

Owen bowed to Wykeham and followed Thoresby, who had slowed his pace and was breathing hard. To Owen’s surprise the archbishop led him out into the garden at the rear of the hall. They were joined by Brother Michaelo.

‘Michaelo is to be our sentinel while we talk,’ Thoresby said. ‘You must go to Poins. I heard his confession, but I have told him that in order to be absolved he must tell you all he knows.’

‘The seal of confession.’

Thoresby nodded. ‘May heard that I was with him. She went to him. When he understood that she feared him guilty, he cursed her.’

‘Did he confess to her? Can we learn the truth from her?’

‘From May we might learn her truth, but not his. Go to him. He kept silent to protect her. Perhaps now that he knows she believed him a murderer he will speak.’

Or decide to slip away, succumb to the pain and, by succumbing, escape it. Owen crossed himself and prayed for God’s grace.

Lucie offered Edgar a cup of ale, which he accepted with an embarrassed smile.

‘Is it Matthew you fear?’

The mere mention of the man seemed to deepen the shadows beneath Edgar’s eyes. ‘I have not enjoyed a night of sleep while he has shared my bed for the nightmares his presence inspires. Even in slumber there is such an anger within him.’

Lucie listened while thinking Jasper must be at the
tavern by now. Perhaps he and Tom Merchet had returned to the yard.

‘Do you think Matthew capable of setting the fire? Or of murder?’

Edgar put down his cup with a clatter. ‘That is for God to judge, Mistress Wilton. I know only what I have told you.’

‘Can you guess what so angers him?’

‘It would be easier to point out what does not. The smallest inconvenience puts him in a temper. He is critical of everything in my master and mistress’s household. His loyalty is with Lady Pagnell. He dislikes the Ferribys.’

‘Including the boys?’

‘Them most of all.’ Edgar’s eyes widened and he jerked towards the window. ‘I heard a cry.’

Lucie rose with care, her exhaustion dizzying.
Blessed Mother, protect my family
.

Edgar hurried towards the front door. ‘I must go.’

‘Stay. You must have an escort.’

Someone pushed open the door from which Jasper had departed as Edgar vanished out of the front door. Jasper led a dishevelled boy into the room. Alisoun followed them, bow in hand. Lucie had forgotten that the girl was a skilled archer. The boy lifted his head and Lucie cried out.

‘John Ferriby!’ She ran back to the front door. ‘Edgar! Wait!’ She turned to Jasper. ‘You must find Edgar.’

Jasper was already at the door, running out into the night.

Lucie sank down, cupping her face in her hands.

M
agda was at the bedside, cradling Poins’s head in one hand, with the other helping him sip from a shallow cup. She saw Owen, but did not speak until she had settled Poins back on the pillow. ‘What he has drunk will keep him wakeful for a good while,’ she said, ‘though he wishes for nothing so much as sleep.’

‘Were you in here with him and May?’

‘Nay. Magda sat without, but she could hear him forcing his voice to shout at the maid. Hear him now if thou wilt, for tomorrow he’ll not be able to speak for the swelling in his throat. Thou shouldst prop him up with more cushions so that he has the breath for speech.’

Poins groaned as Owen arranged cushions beneath his upper back, though he made no more complaint. When Owen settled beside the bed, Poins regarded him with keener eyes than he had the day before, and almost at once he spoke. ‘I meant to protect her,’ he rasped.

‘Who?’

‘May.’

‘We already know her part. She has told us of her failing sight, Cisotta’s remedy.’

‘And my part?’

‘Not yours. She said she did not know why you were in the undercroft.’

Poins dropped his gaze to his swollen fingers, curling and uncurling them. Magda handed Owen some warm honeyed water to offer him. He took a sip and then lay back for a moment, catching his breath at the pressure against his blistered back, though only cushions touched it. Owen held the cup.

‘I offered Cisotta … my mistress’s cast-off gloves … but she wanted more … to come to the house.’ Owen did not interrupt Poins’s pause for breath. ‘She asked for hides … I promised her some … if she would come that night.’ He took a deep breath.

‘Why did you do this?’

‘May was patient with our … difficult mistress … She made it … easier … for Bolton and me. I wanted to … make it up to her.’ Sweat soaked Poins’s bandages.

‘Where were the hides?’

‘Just inside the undercroft door. I left it unlocked. Told Cisotta to … take them … as she left.’

Owen helped Poins sip the water.

‘And what happened?’ he asked when Poins’s breathing seemed easier.

‘I heard something … Too long after Cisotta left … Went down to check … lock the door. There was smoke.’ He closed his eyes, shook his head slowly when Owen offered him water. ‘Inside there was a fire … not big yet … I saw … her golden hair …’ – his voice broke – ‘near the flames … fanned out.’ He closed his eyes and shivered. ‘A man pushed me aside …
pulled the barrel down on me.’ Poins gave a rough sob. ‘I screamed… Flames licked at her … She never moved … never a sound … Beautiful Cisotta.’ He wept.

Owen leaned close, whispered, ‘Tell me what you see, Poins.’

‘For a moment – something. A figure.’

‘Clerk’s gown? Something shorter?’

Poins coughed, shook his head. ‘Water.’

Owen helped him again, then asked, ‘Is that all you can remember?’

Poins slowly nodded. ‘I said nothing because … I did not want … May blamed.’

‘I understand.’

‘Did it work? Can she see now?’

Owen could not bring himself to tell Poins how little all his suffering had helped May. ‘More clearly. You must rest.’

‘I could not move,’ Poins sobbed. ‘I could not save her.’

‘She was dead before you reached the undercroft, Poins. There was nothing you could have done.’

‘I should have … taken the hides … to her … I was frightened. If I did not … hand them to her … I could say I knew … nothing … of them.’

Owen thanked Poins and left his side, feeling his own breath shallow and ragged. So much suffering for so little. Such good intentions ended in horror. He crossed himself as he left the room and prayed for understanding. It seemed a brutal punishment for such insignificant transgressions.

Alisoun withdrew to the table and began to unstring her bow.

John Ferriby stood in the centre of the hall, his eyes
searching for something other than Lucie to light on. One of his leggings pooled round his ankle, the flushed, dimpled knee like that of a baby. ‘I meant no harm,’ he said.