The Gallows Curse (76 page)

    Ma
grunted. 'It would explain why Osborn was so keen to get Elena back.' She
turned to Elena. 'But, my darling, I'm afraid this isn't going to help you. It
only adds to the danger you're in. You've no proof except what Osborn told you
and he'll deny it, but now he'll be more determined than ever to silence you
for good.'

    Raffaele's
face was haggard and pale in the candlelight. 'Elena, please come with me. Let
me try to atone for what I've done to you. I'll protect you and see that you
want for nothing that a man can provide for a woman. I know that my body
repulses you. I've always known that and, believe me, I understand how you feel
better than you can ever imagine, for my body disgusts me too. But I swear on
Gerard's soul I will not lay one finger on you. And if you should in time find
a man who loves you, and whom you love, I promise I will let you go to him with
a glad heart. I begged you before to trust me and I did not deserve that trust,
but I shall. I swear it.'

    Talbot
poked his head round the door. 'If they don't go now, Ma, there'll be no going
at all.'

    Ma nodded.
She didn't wait for Elena to reply, but thrust her bundle into her arms,
pushing the girl firmly towards the door. Elena found herself hurrying down the
stairs behind Raffaele without even knowing if she had agreed to go or not.

    Outside,
Ma grasped both their hands and with one on each side of her she hurried them
through the silent streets. To any casual observer glimpsing their shapes in
the darkness, Ma must have looked like a child walking between her parents.

    The
streets were completely deserted now. The inns and alehouses had emptied.
Candles had been extinguished or long since burned away, and there was not a
chink of light to be seen in any of the blind houses. A fine drizzle was
falling, which clung to their faces in a wet mist of tiny beads, soaking their
clothes. Elena shivered.

    Raffe
carried a lantern low down, so that they could pick their way across the open
sewers and through the tight little lanes. A beggar, curled up in the entrance
of a courtyard, groaned in his sleep as the light from the lantern brushed his
eyes. He turned over, hugging himself tighter against the cold and rain. His
sallow wrinkled flesh glistened wetly through the holes in his rags and his
filthy bare toes scrunched into fists.

    The
three strange figures steadied one another over the slippery cobbles, the
lantern casting a misty yellow halo around their feet, but their faces were
hidden in the darkness. Elena glanced over Ma's head at the tall figure
lumbering beside her. He kept his head and his shoulders hunched forward like a
prisoner being marched to the gallows.

    Elena
still had no idea what she intended to do. She could not forgive what he had
done to her. Yet, though she told herself she hated him, she understood the
need to share your most terrible secrets with someone. Who could you allow to
glimpse the dark creatures that prowl within you, except someone you truly
love? And Raffaele did love her. She knew that. Deep down, she had always known
it.

    But
he'd used her. Raped her in a way that was worse than anything Raoul or Hugh
could have done, for such men can only touch the body, not the soul. He had
made her guilty of crimes she had not and could never have committed. And yet
the blood of that baby, and of those holy monks, was now on her soul and she
would be punished for them for all eternity, as he would ... as
they
would be together. The fear of that was so enormous that she could not even
think about what it meant. If she allowed herself to dwell on the terror of
that for one moment, she would run mad.

    All
she knew was that she wanted to be a hundred seas away from Raffaele. Yet she
understood why he felt the loss of Gerard so intensely, because no one else
could understand Raffaele's torments, no one else could see the horror of what
he'd seen except Gerard and now her.

    Even
if she searched for the rest of her life, there could be no one she could share
this with, for how could even the most devoted lover understand the images that
were for ever in her head and the horror and revulsion that were in her heart,
except the one man who also carried those things inside himself? She might hate
Raffaele with every inch of her being, but they were one flesh. She could no
more live alone with this than he could. It was more enduring than marriage; it
was stronger than love, for sin would bind them together even beyond death. And
for that very reason, Elena suddenly knew she had no choice but to go with
Raffaele, because without him, she would have to carry this nightmare alone and
that would be the most terrible sentence of all.

    They
had left the closely packed streets behind them and the land had opened out
into the marshy ground that bordered the river. The wind was stronger here and
rain slashed their chilled skin. Thick, knobbly trunks of pollarded willows
stuck up from the boggy ground like giants' cudgels. And here and there the
dark smudges of huts and bothies were dotted among the birch scrub.

    Ma
took the lantern from Raffaele and swept its beam across the wet grass,
searching for something. She pointed to a peeled twig sticking upright from the
ground. Her finger to her lips, she set off, following the trail. Elena trod
carefully behind her, and Raffe brought up the rear. She could hear his boots
squelching in the boggy ground, but she did not turn round. They were close to
the river now.

    Ma
grabbed Elena's hand and pulled her down behind a low thicket of bushes.
Raffaele crouched behind her. In front of them the great black river slid past;
Elena could feel the chill of it, even colder than the rain. She glanced up,
squinting
against the falling drops; darkness still
wrapped itself around
the city, but a fiery red glow was
running along the horizon.

    Dawn
was beginning to break.

    Ma
covered her lantern with her cloak, then moved the cloth so that the light
flashed towards the river several times in rapid succession. They waited,
hearing nothing but the pattering of rain on their heads and the rushing of the
water. Then out of the darkness came an answering flash. Slowly the tiny light
drew closer, floating suspended above the river.

    Ma
turned, keeping her voice to a whisper. 'Soon as the boat lands you run for it,
get in and keep low till you're well out of sight of the city. The men know
where to take you. You can trust them. They're good customers of mine.'

    As
they watched, the outline of a small boat gathered out of the darkness as if it
was forming from the shadows.

    'Please,
Elena,' Raffaele whispered, 'come with me.'

    He
extended his hand, white and glistening wet in the lamplight; it looked like
the hand of a drowned man. Elena hesitated, then slowly, very slowly, her
fingers edged towards his and she grasped his hand, feeling not the coldness of
his skin but the answering clasp as his fingers gently but securely locked
around hers.

    The
shrill
weet-a-weet
alarm call of the green sandpiper suddenly split the
air. Elena turned and saw figures darting towards them across the ground,
spread out and ducking low against the lightening horizon. The first rays of
the watery sun caught the flash of metal in their hands.

    'Devil's
arse! It's the king's men,' Ma hissed.

    Raffaele
let go of Elena's hand and pushed her hard, so that she sprawled flat beneath
the bushes. 'Hold her, Ma! Whatever you do, keep her safe.'

    Like
a crab, he scuttled forward on his hands and knees until he was far enough away
from Ma and Elena, then he leapt up, running openly along the river bank,
drawing John's men's attention away from them and the boat.

    There
was a cry as the soldiers spotted him. At once they changed direction, running
towards him as fast as the boggy ground would allow, weaving around the trees
and shrubs. Their progress was slow for they repeatedly tumbled over as their
feet stuck in soft ground, but they heaved one another out and continued to
pursue their quarry. But soon the darkness had enveloped them all.

    As
the shouts grew distant, Ma seized Elena's arm.

    'Move,
my darling, quickly. No, don't stand up; they might have left men on watch.
Crawl!'

    Elena
raised her head to look for the little boat on the river, but the men on board
had extinguished their lantern as soon as they saw the soldiers and Ma had done
the same. Now both she and Ma were creeping towards the bank on their hands and
knees, Ma calling out Softly to the boatmen. But there was no answer.

    Elena,
putting a hand down on the ground in the darkness, winced as a sharp thorn was
pressed deep in her palm, but she didn't stop. They were almost at the water's
edge. The wiry grass had given way to soft mud. She stared across the river.
Dawn was just beginning to edge over the horizon, revealing the black outlines
of distant craft, but there were no boats close by. From a long way off, the
wind carried the soldiers' voices as they shouted instructions to one another.

    Elena
squeezed her eyes shut
.
Holy and blessed Virgin Mother, in your mercy
look after Raffaele. Keep him safe. Don't let them catch him. Please don't let
them take him
.

    Ma
was cursing under her breath. Then she caught hold of Elena's arm and pulled
her back.

    'Rancid
lumps of lard, the pair of them! Useless flea shit. You just wait till those
boatmen dare to show their faces in my house again. I'll use their balls for
crab bait.' Ma sighed. 'Still, I can't say that I blame them, they say the only
people worth risking your life for are your own kin, and I'd not risk my life
for any of mine.'

    She
glanced anxiously upriver from where the shouts of the soldiers drifted back to
them.

    'We
need to get away from here, as fast as we can. Raffe's leading them off best he
can. We should go in the opposite direction.'

    'But
we can't leave Raffaele.' Even as Elena spoke the words, they heard the clash
of swords echoing across the marsh.

    'Sounds
as if the Bullock has his hands full. . . no, no!' Ma grabbed Elena as she
started to run in the direction of the sound.

    'There's
nothing either of us can do to help him. We'd only make things worse. When
Raffe makes his escape, he'll find his way back to you. Then we'll find another
ship for the pair of you. But best thing now is to get you out of Norwich as
quickly as we can, for Osborn will be tearing the town apart house by house
looking for you. Come on, my darling. I'll walk with you till I've set you on
the right road.'

    Elena
turned round one last time. She thought she glimpsed a group of people in the
far distance, the first few rays of dawn flashing off metal, but she couldn't
be sure, perhaps it was just water. She turned back and meekly trudged after
Ma.

    Raffe
knew he could never outrun the soldiers. Sooner or later they would catch up
with him; he just wanted to lead them far enough away from Elena and Ma so that
they had a chance to escape.

    The
effort of stumbling over the soft, wet ground was tearing at his calf muscles
and he already had a pain in his side, but he would not stop until they forced
him to. Glancing back over his shoulder, he saw three of the soldiers were
close. They were signalling to one another to spread out, obviously hoping to cut
him off.

    Raffe
drove himself harder. Glancing now at the river, he wondered if he should jump
in. He could swim well enough, but the river was swollen and fast. He'd never
make it to the other bank, but he might be able to hide under the near bank, if
he could find something to cling on to. He needed to find a place where the
bank overhung .... He yelped as his foot stepped down into empty space.

    With
a splash of icy water that took his breath away, he found himself floundering
on his back in soft mud. He'd fallen into one of the deep, narrow gullies that
cut across the marsh into the river. Even in daylight, these gullies were
hidden until you were on top of them. Raffe thrashed around in shallow water,
trying in vain to get his feet under him in the slimy mud.

    There
were shouts and yells above, and immediately Raffe lay still, praying that what
remained of the darkness would hide him. The voices seemed to be moving away.
As slowly and silently as he could, he tried to right himself, but it was
useless. The silky soft mud on the sides of the gully just came away in his
hands. He gave up, and began to wriggle backwards, trying to edge towards the
river. If he could drop down into it, and ease himself along under the bank,
then, with God's help, he could hide there until they'd abandoned the search.