The Gallows Curse (69 page)

    Raffe
had expected Anne to display some sign of alarm at the news, but her face was
expressionless. He had to make her understand the danger.

    'Even
as we speak, Osborn is already on the road to Norwich. I intend to leave within
the hour to try to find this spy of John's before he learns that Osborn is in
Norwich and has a chance to reach him. But I had to warn you before I left. I
think it would be wise for you to return to your cousin at once. I will send
word if all is well and it's safe for you to return to the manor; if not, we
may need to try to get you out of England.'

    Anne
was gazing out of the window again, as though Raffe was discussing the price of
wheat. If she'd understood what he had said, her face showed nothing of it.

    'He
doesn't care, does he?' she said, without taking her gaze from the courtyard
below. 'I thought that if there was one person in the world Osborn would grieve
for, it would be his brother. I thought he would at least feel something
resembling pain at his passing, but all he cares about is the insult and
affront to his house and name.'

    'I...
I believe that grief sometimes shows itself in anger,' Raffe said, completely
bemused by Anne's lack of reaction to what he'd thought would be alarming news.
'Osborn is a knight. He's fought many battles in the Holy Land and in France,
seen many men die. A man like that doesn't display his feelings in tears, but
in action.'

    'And
ordered the death of many men too,' Anne said, her hands clenching tight.

    'That
also. But m'lady, do you understand what I said, your freedom, your life could
be in danger, you must —'

    'I
know what I must do!' She turned her face to him. Her eyes, though still tired,
were bright with anger. Two spots of red appeared on her thin cheeks. 'Do you
think Osborn feels anything? Do you think he cares that his brother was struck
down without being granted one moment in which he could utter a prayer, or say
a word of contrition or confession? He was sent straight from this life with
every one of his sins hanging from his neck, dragging him straight down to hell
where he belongs.'

    Raffe
was stunned by the bitterness in her voice, the fury he could see blazing on
her face. He knew she disliked Osborn and Hugh, what woman wouldn't, having
barbarians like them occupying her home and threatening her, but he had never
heard her speak with such hatred for any man. He hadn't known her capable of
it.

    Anne
searched his eyes. 'I know what Osborn did, Raffe.'

    'M'lady?'

    'He
told me that day after he threatened to imprison me in the hole. The day Elena
ran away. I confronted him that night over the hanging of poor Athan. I told
him that he could threaten to do what he liked to me, but that I would not
stand for innocent people being murdered. I said that I knew John had granted
him the manor, but that I would appeal to the king myself, tell him what Osborn
was doing and ask for justice. Osborn laughed.'

    Raffe
grimaced. He knew only too well how Osborn would react to such a challenge. He
was amazed that the man had merely laughed at her. He would have expected
Osborn to punish her cruelly for daring to threaten him. He would have been
vengeful enough if a man had done so, never mind a woman.

    Anne
pressed her fingers to her temples, massaging them. Raffe could see she was in
pain, but he had to be sure she would leave the manor before he could set off
for Norwich, and every moment that passed only increased the danger.

    'M'lady,
you must make ready to leave. I'll call Hilda to pack for you.' He rose and was
walking away when Anne's voice halted him.

    'Osborn
laughed and then he said, "Do you think your precious son was so noble and
pure? Do you think he didn't murder the innocent? Your son was drenched in
blood, innocent blood,
holy
blood, and you think the death of one
villein equates to that? You could do penance for a thousand years, mistress,
and you would not wipe one day off your son's punishment. He is screaming in
hell now and nothing you can do will release him. Look to your own house,
mistress, before you dare to criticize mine."'

    Raffe
was staring at her in horror. But Anne gazed fixedly in front of her as if she
could still see Osborn talking to her.

    'He
told me then, Raffe. He told me what you and my son had done four years ago in
Gascony. Was that the evil my son spoke of on his deathbed? Was that the sin
you feared he would carry to the next world?'

    She
turned her head to look at Raffe, searching his eyes.

    'Tell
me,' she ordered.

    Raffe's
face was frozen with misery. 'No, no, please don't ask that of me. I can't. I
don't. . . Gerard never wanted you to know. I don't want you to remember him
like that. He was a good man, a great man.'

    'I
have heard it already from Osborn. I must hear the truth of it from you. I need
to know. He was my son.'

    Raffe
found himself sinking to the floor, his back pressed against the wall, his eyes
tightly closed. He had to tell her now. Whatever version she had heard from
Osborn would be vile distortion. He couldn't let her believe that. All the
same, it was several minutes before Raffe could bring himself to speak.

    'We
served under Osborn twice. The first was at the siege of Acre where Gerard's
father was slain.'

    'I
know that both my husband and my son killed many infidels,' Anne said, 'but the
Pope himself declared that whatever was done by those who fought under the Holy
Cross was forgiven even before the act was committed. But tell of the second
time with Osborn, tell me of Montauban.'

    'Please,
m'lady,' Raffe begged miserably.

    Anne's
eyes flashed in her pale face. 'Tell me!'

    'The
second time . . . was when King John tried to retake Aquitaine. We landed at La
Rochelle and John led the march to the castle of Montauban, close to the rivers
of the Garonne and Dordogne. John vowed he would take the castle back from the
rebels, but he could not afford a long siege. He brought up every siege engine
he had to batter the castle, and finally he succeeded in taking it. But some of
the rebels managed to slip away as the castle was stormed. John sent out the
order they were to be found at all costs. The nobles were to be held for ransom
and those who had little value were to be mutilated and hanged. Osborn was
determined to seek favour with John by capturing his rebels. He discovered that
some had claimed sanctuary in a nearby Cluniac monastery.

    'Osborn
ordered Gerard to lead the men in and search for them. Gerard protested that
the law of sanctuary could not be violated. It was against all the rules of
warfare and of the Holy Church, but Osborn told him that if he didn't persuade
the rebels to give themselves up, then he would burn the place down and all the
monks in it.

    'You
have to know that Gerard reasoned with the monks for hours, trying to persuade
them to hand over the rebels, but they swore there were no traitors amongst
them. He reported this to Osborn but he refused to believe it. He told

    Gerard
to take his men and search the place, holy or not, or he would destroy it stone
by stone and burn the monks alive.

    'Gerard
knew the monks wouldn't simply open the doors and let him walk in, so he waited
until it was dark. There was only one man on watch. The monks, I believe,
thought no one would dare to violate their sanctuary. After all, such a thing
was strictly forbidden. Gerard tried to disable the watchman and take him
prisoner. But the fear that what he was doing was evil in the sight of God made
him clumsy and the man began to yell. Gerard had to kill him. He had no choice.

    'Once
inside, all of us scattered to search for the rebels, but there were so many
chambers, staircases and passages in that maze of a building we could have
searched for days while they simply moved the rebels from one part to the next,
behind our backs. Some of Osborn's men, fearing we'd never find them, began
looting the monastery's treasures, no doubt thinking that if they returned with
gold and silver, Osborn would be mollified. Gerard attempted to call them to
order, but they wouldn't listen. The monks tried to stop them taking the holy
objects, fighting broke out, and Gerard ... we lost control of the men.

    'We
discovered some of the rebels hiding in a crypt beneath the chapel, disguised
as monks, but they refused to surrender, knowing full well what John would do
to them. We were all fighting then, in the chapel and cloisters. It was dark
... chaos. What few candles, remained burning in the stone passages showed
nothing clearly except shapes lunging this way and that. It was impossible to
tell rebel from monk amid all the yelling and clashing of swords. Then finally
the screaming stopped.

    'All
the rebels were dead and many of the monks. Osborn's men retreated with all the
treasure they could carry to compensate for the loss of ransom for the
prisoners. I couldn't find Gerard. I was searching frantically for him among
the dead and wounded. I began to fear the worst, but then at last I found him.
He was sitting on the floor of the monastery church cradling an elderly monk in
his arms. There was a dead man lying at their feet. Gerard's hands were wet
with blood. He was begging over and over again for the old monk to forgive him,
but the monk ... I don't know . . . maybe he was too close to death to hear
him. But he said nothing.

    'Then
we saw a red glow through the open door and smelt the stench of smoke. Osborn
had set fire to the monastery, maybe to cover up the slaughter and the looting
or perhaps just for his own amusement. I don't know. I tried to drag Gerard out
of the church, but he refused to leave the old monk. He just kept on begging
him to forgive him,, as if he couldn't move until the old man had given him a
sign.

    'The
roof was already alight. It was only a matter of time before it came crashing
down. In the end, I picked the old monk up and carried him across my arms. We
battled down the aisle of the church through smoke and falling wood, stumbling
over the overturned altars and broken statues to reach the door. It was open,
but there was a line of Osborn's men standing there, swords in hand ready to
slay any who tried to escape. When they recognized us, they lowered their
swords, all except one man, Hugh.

    'He
ordered me to toss the monk back inside the burning building. I tried to push
past him, I tried ... but my arms were full. Hugh raised his sword. As if he
sensed what was coming, the old monk opened his eyes and stared up at him. He
cursed us, he cursed every one of us who had violated the House of God, then he
tried to pray. But Hugh wouldn't let him finish. Gerard yelled out, but it was
too late. Hugh brought his sword down across the man's neck as his head lolled
back over my arm and struck the monk's head from his body. The blood spurted up
into my face like scalding metal, I was half blinded and stumbled to my knees,
still clutching the body of the corpse. I could hear the severed head bouncing
down the stone steps, then, as Osborn's men saw it rolling towards them, they
began to laugh. Behind us, there was a thunderous rumble and the roof of the
monastery collapsed into the crackling flames.'

    Raffe
was shaking. He found himself with his hands over his ears trying to block out
the sounds of the screaming men, of sword severing bone, the violent laughter
and the roar of the flames. He forced his hands down, pressing them between his
drawn-up knees to stop them trembling.

    Anne
had covered her face with her hands. Her shoulders were heaving, but she made
no sound. For a long time neither of them spoke. Then Anne said Softly, And my
son never made confession of it.'

    'He
couldn't bring himself even to speak of it. It tormented his sleep, that I
know. Many a night I heard him cry out and saw him wake drenched in sweat.
Sometimes he was too afraid to sleep, and then he would drink, drink far more
than any man should, but that only sent him to sleep and back into his
nightmares again. Who could he make confession to? Who would hear any of us?
What priest in England would have understood and absolved us from the murder of
holy monks in the very House of God? Even King Henry could not make penance
enough for the murder of Thomas a Becket at Canterbury, and he was but one man
slain, and the king's hand did not wield the sword.'

    'No,'
Anne said fiercely. 'But it was the king who gave the order and God will hold
him more guilty than ever the knights who struck the blows.'

    She
swung herself around on the casement seat and her face was flushed and her jaw
set hard. 'I am glad you told me of Hugh's part in this. I had thought to make
Osborn suffer by taking away those he cared for, by sending them to hell before
they had a chance to confess their sins, but now I see the murder of Hugh had
its own justice.'