The Remembered (21 page)

Saint Leonard's Priory
James immediately set about the task of copying the documents that Prior Forman had entrusted to his care. He was surprised that the documents were regarding the trial of Joan of Arc. He had no desire to pursue additional information regarding the trial of the Maiden after the painful experience that it had caused him at the Lenton Priory. 'Why 'ad God set these documents in me 'ands?' he wondered. 'Was God punishing him? Was there a higher purpose?' He didn't know the answers and the task had lost some of its luster for him.
As he read and copied the documents however, he was excited to learn that the documents raised the same questions regarding the trial that he had raised. A review of the trial had been authorized by the Church and the Maiden had been found innocent of all charges. James wanted to shout with jubilation. His faith in the Church that he served was renewed. He didn't understand how the Church could have acted so callously and ignorantly during the trial, but now they acknowledged the error. That night James prayed in thanksgiving for the pardon of the Maiden and for the wisdom of the Church. He recommitted himself to faithful service.

1456

'John, please take sume men with you,' Agnes pled. 'I know that you luv riding the 'orse and traveling alone, boot it is more dangerous now than it once was.'
'Agnes, me luv, I will be fine,' promised John. 'I 'ave a fine 'orse, I 'ave been on the road to Dover many times and I also 'ave no quarrel with anyone.'
John knew that these were desperate times and that Agnes' concerns had merit. England had not so long ago survived a period of more than one hundred years in war with the French. During the hostilities it appeared at times that England would rule all of France, but in the end she was only able to retain the area around Calais. Now new and more insidious flames were beginning to spread across England. The Houses of York and Lancaster were contending in a bloody struggle for the crown of England. Rewards for the victorious would be enormous. Punishment for the conquered would be death. For those of royal birth it was necessary to choose an allegiance and fight for survival. For those of lesser status it was best to stay out of the way and fight to survive.
The war had become known as the War of the Roses, referring to the white rose of York and the red rose of Lancaster, symbols of the opposing sides. The king of Lancaster, King Henry VI, was reportedly insane. The Duke of York, Richard, claimed the throne by virtue of his descending from Edward III.
John remained loyal to the King, but it still was not always easy to distinguish between the opposing sides.
'I 'ave more concern for you,' continued John. 'I do nay like leaving you 'ere alone.'
'I am less alone than you, me luv,' Agnes replied, 'I 'ave the servants and they are faithful.'
'Aye, me luv, boot if trouble combs to Stamford, the servants may decide it best to abandon you and go to their 'omes.'
'Nay, if trouble combs to Stamford,' said Agnes, 'I will 'ave them bring their families 'ere for safety.'
'You are a brave woman, me luv,' replied John, 'boot wuld it be wise to bring so many commoners 'ere?'
'Commoners need protection just the same as you and I,' Agnes retorted. 'And as for bravery, I do nay know 'ow brave I may be, boot I will be 'ere when you return,' she promised. 'Do please take your sword with you this time, me luv.'
'Aye, a sword will be on me side,' replied John. He then took Agnes into his arms and kissed her and said, 'I will be back within the fortnight.'
'You 'ad bet'er be,' said Agnes with a smile.
A servant entered the hall and told John that his horse was ready and John left the house and mounted his fine horse.
John and Agnes had been married just over four years and John knew that his marriage to Agnes was perhaps the best decision that he had ever made. It had been the desire of their fathers to join the two families together for business advantage, but arrangements had not been made prior to the death of John's father. When Agnes' father had approached John directly with the offer of his daughter's hand, John had accepted. John would have married Agnes regardless of familial ties, or business advantages, but he didn't let her father know that. John knew that it was to his benefit that Agnes' father was keen on the marriage, because he wasn't sure that his charms alone would have been sufficient to win Agnes' heart.
After they had married, they had left Stamford for several months and had traveled to Scotland. That time alone together had solidified their relationship. Upon their return to Stamford, John had requested leave for a time from the office of alderman so that he could spend more time with Agnes and also to merge the two family businesses.
John didn't take pleasure in leaving Agnes to go to Calais, but he felt that it was necessary. As he passed though some of the townes and villages on his way to Dover, he heard tale that the King's men were headed northward to meet the forces of the Duke of York. They reportedly were headed far north of Stamford, so John was not concerned.
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After leaving Margaret to care for Geva at Easton-on-the-hill, Richard began the long walk to Dover where he would catch a ship to Calais. The weather was mild and the roads were clear, but he was hearing rumors of internal strife and it concerned him. According to the rumors that he was hearing however, it sounded as though the conflict was in the north of England, and so he walked on.
The boat to Dover only sailed once each week and Richard missed the boat by four days, so he found a quiet place in the woods where he could wait for a few days. There were other travelers staying in the woods also, but Richard preferred the safety of keeping to himself, so he found a secluded place to camp. He passed the time thinking of Margaret. He wondered whether Geva was feeling better.
On the second night, as Richard was warming himself next to a small fire, a stranger with reddish hair and complexion walked into his camp and asked permission to sit.
'Aye, 'elp yourself,' replied Richard, pointing to a nearby log. Richard gazed with uneasiness into the darkness and let his hand feel his blade beneath his cloak. He knew that robbers often worked in pairs.
'Me name is Simon,' said the stranger and he waited expectedly for Richard to offer his name, but he didn't.
As Simon warmed himself by the fire, he told Richard that he was traveling alone and that he had come from Coventry. He asked Richard where he was from, but Richard answered with a vague reference to Boston. Simon said that he was a mason by trade and had heard that there was work in Calais, but Richard noticed that he wasn't carrying any tools. He also noted that the stranger kept looking around as though he was trying to determine whether Richard had any valuables or companions. Richard thought to himself that this is exactly the reason that he had not wanted to bring Margaret along.
Suddenly, Richard heard a twig crack behind him and he leapt to his feet, spinning around in time to see a person come into the light of the fire. Simon was also on his feet and the two strangers were coming at Richard. Richard's hand was already on his knife and with a sling of his cloak, Richard revealed the knife and stood ready to meet his attackers. They evidently hadn't counted on Richard wielding a knife so quickly and they rushed off together through the woods.
Richard stood shaking for a moment and then ran through the woods in the opposite direction. He wanted to put distance between himself and the two thieves. After running a short distance, he continued walking for a ways until he found a hollow formed by rocks and he lay down and tried to stay warm and get some sleep. He decided that it wouldn't be prudent to have a fire.
The next day, Richard boarded the boat bound for Calais. It wouldn't be a long voyage, perhaps two days, depending on the weather. The boat was fairly crowded and Richard found a corner where he could keep to himself and observe the other passengers. Most of the passengers were men, but Richard noted that a few men were accompanied by women. As Richard studied the passengers, he was taken aback when he noticed that the Simon and his companion were also on the same ship. Richard pulled his hood over his head, but was fairly certain that Simon had seen him. It relieved Richard that Simon and his companion went to the opposite end of the ship.
Soon the ship was underway and Richard relaxed enough to shut his eyes for a bit. When he did open his eyes, he saw a well dressed man walking on the opposite side of the ship. As Richard watched him, he could clearly make out evidence that this man was a man of importance and wealth. Then it made sense to Richard why it was that the thieves were also on the ship.
Richard shut his eyes again, but opened them immediately. 'I know that man,' he thought. 'That is John Darby,' and he studied him more closely. 'It must be nigh 23 years since we played together as lads,' Richard thought. 'Per'aps before we reach Calais, I will speak with 'im. 'e will nay recognize me after so long and now with me beard.' Their childhood friendship seemed to Richard to be separated both by years and by social and economic standing. It seemed that they came from two completely different worlds, strangers as it were.
The weather was mild that night and so Richard slept on deck, keeping one hand on his blade. The next morning he could see the coast of France and knew that he would be Calais soon. He was eager with anticipation. It had taken him almost a fortnight to reach Calais. He missed Margaret greatly and was starting to feel that perhaps he should have become a farmer. This life of uncertainty was almost too much for him, ''ow must it be for a woman?' he wondered. He cast his mind back to the sight of Margaret standing outside the cottage in Easton-on-the-hill with Geva and Ralf and their children nearby. Margaret was so lovely and such a strong woman. She would have been a wonderful mother. He longed to be with her again.
There were many passengers on the deck at the front of the boat now watching the shoreline grow closer. Richard saw John also standing on the deck and thought that he would follow him off the boat and speak with him. 'Per'aps,' Richard thought, ''e will know aboot work being dune on the church and can give me reference.'
The boat docked and passengers began to disembark. Richard followed a few people behind John. Just before John started down the walkway to the pier, Richard noticed that Simon had stepped up beside John with a knife and had cut loose John's pouch and handed it to his partner. 'So, this is 'ow they operate,' thought Richard. 'Pick oot their prey and wait until they are nearing land and then steal their pouch.' Richard quickly stepped in front of the thief and grabbed the pouch out of his hand. When he did, Simon started yelling, 'Thief, thief. Stop the thief.' Richard froze and looked around the boat, all eyes were upon him. Then he looked at the pouch in his hand. He dropped the pouch and tried to push his way to the walkway. When he did, he was seized upon by other passengers and held tightly. He heard John call out that his pouch had been stolen and someone retrieved the pouch and handed it to John. The ship's mates grabbed Richard and started to drag him back to the main part of the ship. Richard shouted, 'I did nay steal the pouch. I did nay steal the pouch.' As Richard fought to free himself, the ship's mates began punching him all the more and Richard was knocked to the ground. As he fell, he noticed that John was already on the pier and likely had not heard him. It was uncertain to Richard whether John had even seen him.
Richard was taken below deck and chained to await the orders of the ship's captain. Richard's head was spinning. It had all happened so quickly that it was like a dream. He rehearsed in his mind what had happened. It was so unjust, he thought. He had been attempting to help, and instead had been seized upon like a common thief. 'Whot am I to do now?' thought Richard.
It seemed like hours before the captain came below deck to interrogate Richard.
'Who are you?' asked the Captain, 'And where are you from?'
'I am Richard, me lord, from near to Stamford,' replied Richard.
'Whot are you doing 'ere on me ship?'
'I am luking for work in Calais, me lord.'
'Aye, and whot is your trade, thievery?'
'Nay, me lord, I am a glazier and am nay a thief,' replied Richard.
'Why did you steal Lord Darby's pouch?'
'Nay, me lord, I did nay steal Lord Darby's pouch. I retrieved it from the thief.'
'Do you make me for a fool, man?' shouted the captain.
'Nay, me lord. Speak with Lord Darby, 'e knows me. 'e knows that I wuld nay steal from 'im,' pled Richard.
'I will nay speak with Lord Darby, boot you will stay 'ere in this 'ole until I can deliver you to the authorities in Dover. You are just fortunate that you were nay captured on French soil. They 'ang thieves 'ere.'
With that the captain turned and climbed the steep stairway out of the lower deck of the ship and closed the hatch. As the hatch closed, darkness also closed in on Richard and he felt more alone than he had ever felt. He wondered whether he would ever see Margaret again. If he was jailed in Dover, or hung as a thief, would she believe that he had abandoned her? Would she believe that he had also abandoned Elizabeth? He felt very, very alone and he lowered his head and rested it on his arms which were crossed over his bent knees.

1456

'Brother James,' Brother Mark called across the open field. 'Brother James.'
James looked up from the wood that he was chopping and saw Brother Mark hurrying out to where he was. He acknowledged Brother Mark's beckoning, 'I am listening, Brother Mark. Whot is it?'
Brother Mark had always been kind to James and had been somewhat of a mentor to him. He was older than James and shared his wisdom freely. He was also portly and it was unlike him to be in a hurry, so James was surprised at the haste that he was exhibiting.
As Brother Mark struggled to catch his breath, James noticed that he had a paper in his hand. The paper was folded and had been sealed with wax, but the wax was broken, indicating that the paper had been read. There were no secrets among the brothers of the priory, so even if the message were for James, he knew that it would have already been read.
'Brother James,' started Brother Mark when he had caught his breath enough to speak, 'this message came for you todee from Not'ing'am.' Brother Mark handed the paper to James and stood by silently.
James rarely had received any communications from his mother and father. Communication with the outside world was difficult at best and also discouraged. After all, the monks had given their lives over to The Lord and to the Church. The only way to receive a message was if there were reason for a brother to travel to Nottingham or if a brother from Nottingham traveled to Stamford. Each were very infrequent. James had received a message from his mother and father perhaps once each year.
James accepted the message from Brother Mark and read:
'James, your father is gravely ill. Please pray for him. The men of the duke of York passed through Lambley and he received injury at their hand. I fear that he will not live. My heart is very heavy, but my faith in God and his purposes are strong. I am well my son. God speed to you. Your loving mother.'
Brother Mark had been standing by and said, 'You must go to 'er, me sone. She will need you at 'er seed.'
''ow can I leave when there is so much work to do 'ere?' asked James.
'We will be fine. Speak with Prior Forman and receive your leave for a time, boot mind you me sone, the roads are dangerous, even for a monk.'
''ow comb the Duke's forces were in Lambley,' James asked. 'I 'ad 'eard that they were in the north of England.'
'Armies travel faster than rumors, me sone,' replied Brother Mark.
James spoke with Prior Forman and received permission to leave for Lambley as soon as possible. The prior also gave him the use of the priory's donkey for the trip, but asked that he be back in a three weeks.
James left early that afternoon. Riding the donkey was not going to be much quicker than walking, but it was going to be easier and it would allow him to take extra provisions to share with the poor along the way. Because he was a monk, James would generally have the accommodations of local priests or public houses without cost and would not be required to sleep in the open. That would add a measure of safety and comfort to the trip.
He decided to take the shortest route possible, but would need to deliver documents and messages to Nottingham on the way to Lambley. He spent the first night in Melton Mowbray at the house of the priest.
As he passed through the villages and hamlets, he was surprised at how poor the people seemed. Already, he thought, the internal strife for the crown was having an effect on the people. They were poor already and they were the first to suffer when the royals contended. Because he represented the Church, he was approached many times and soon had given away all of the extra food that he had brought with him. He would have gladly given the donkey as well, but it was not his to give.
It was especially heart-wrenching for him to see the little ones approach him, wearing no covering on their feet and with ragged clothing, look at him with big sorrowful eyes.
The road from Melton Mowbray to Nottingham ran through few villages and a portion would be through the Sherwood Forest. This concerned James because the forest was reputed to be the home of thieves. James wondered whether the ranks of the thieves would have grown due to the economic hardship of the people and whether the thieves would be more brazen. Because he was just a humble priest, he trusted that the thieves would not harm him.
James entered the woods soon after noon and continued on without seeing anyone. A couple of hours later, he heard something coming toward him. It sounded like rumbling and also metal clanking. He stopped to listen and decided that it must be a large number of men and animals. He decided that it would be wise to not be seen even if he was a monk, so he coaxed his animal off the road and into the trees. There he dismounted and waited. Before long he saw the occasional flutter of a flag through the trees and then he started seeing men walking and wagons. As the column of men drew closer, he could see that the flags had an unmistakable white rose. These were obviously the Duke of York's men. James fought back feelings of anger toward them for the injury that they had inflicted on his father. At the end of the company, James saw a large machine on wheels and it took him some time to determine what it was, having never seen such a device. It was a catapult. 'Pity the towne that it is used on,' thought James.
After a time, the solders were gone and James continued on his way, reaching Lambley the next day. He tied the donkey in the yard behind the bakery and entered through the rear. He noticed that the oven was cold and there was no bread or other items on the shelves. There was flour and wheat in the bins though.
'Mum, it is I, James,' he called up the stairway.
'James!' Elizabeth called from the room above and then appeared at the top of the stairs. 'James, you came!' she said.
James hurried up the stairs and took his mother into his arms and she cried.
'I came as soon as I received your message, mum,' James said.
'Oh James, I knew that you wuld comb.'
''ow is father?' James asked.
''e is nay gud, sone. Comb and see.'
James followed his mother into the room and saw Thomas laying on the bed. His eyes were closed and his breathing was labored, but shallow. His skin was ashen.
'Whot 'appened to 'im, mum?' James asked.
Elizabeth related to James that the Duke of York's men had come through Lambley and they had been a frightful sight. The village knew that they were coming for a day or so before they arrived and the villagers that could had left. Those that couldn't leave, or those that thought to earn money from their presence, stayed. Elizabeth and Thomas would like to have left, but Thomas was afraid to leave the store unattended. He had insisted that she leave, but she had refused to leave him alone.
When the army came, Thomas had been at the church and Elizabeth in the bakery. Several soldiers had come into the bakery and had demanded bread. She had given it to them and they had refused to pay. She would have gladly accepted their departure without payment, but one of the soldiers had taken hold of her and wouldn't let her go as he tried to kiss her. Thomas had entered the back of the bakery at that moment and had rushed the soldier with the large knife that he had taken to carrying. The knife was no match for a sword and Thomas was no match for a soldier. The soldier could have easily killed Thomas, but seemed to have some sort of compassion and only wounded him in with a blow to the arm. Thomas had fallen to the ground bleeding. The soldier only left the bakery then because his companions grabbed him and removed him.
Elizabeth had been able to stop the blood and the priest, who had followed shortly after Thomas, helped to get him upstairs and into the bed.
'It were the priest who suggested writ'ing the message to you, and 'e offered to take it to Not'ing'am and 'ave it delivered to Stamford with other messages,' Elizabeth said. 'And since then, your father 'as lain 'ere and got'en worse each dee.'
James looked at his mother and saw that it appeared she hadn't been eating or resting much. 'Mum, let me stay 'ere with father tonight while you rest,' he offered. Elizabeth agreed, but went to fetch some more water before nightfall.
The next morning, Elizabeth looked much more rested, but hungry. 'I am going to start the oven, mum and do sume baking,' James told his mother and he set about to bring order and operation to the bakery. He was surprised, that after so much time away from the bakery, how he enjoyed the experience. Maybe he should have been a baker, he thought. The smells of the wood burning in the oven, and the bread cooking brought back pleasant memories of working side-by-side with his father, Thomas.
With the oven operating and bread being baked, people of the village started returning to the shoppe. It was wonderful to see the people again that he had known all of his life. He of course continued to wear his monk habit and many were pleased that he was in the priesthood.
James was disturbed by the poverty that he saw amongst the villagers. Many of them could not pay for the bread that they received, but they received it anyway with a promise to pay someday.
The days passed quickly, but Thomas did not improve, in fact, he continued to decline. On the fifth day, Elizabeth called James upstairs. 'Your father will dee before nightfall. Give 'im a final blessing, sone,' she asked.
James had never had occasion to offer the prayers, but knew how. So, he lovingly offered prayer for the soul of his father. For the first time in years, Elizabeth thought about the circumstances that had brought her and Thomas together as husband and wife. She loved this man who had treated her so well. He was kind and gentle. He was faithful to her, to his church and to his Lord. She felt a pang of guilt hearing her son offer a priestly prayer for the man that he knew as his father, yet only she knew the truth. She wanted to tell James, but felt that nothing good could come of it. Thomas was his father as much as any man could have been.
A short time later that evening, Thomas died and Elizabeth cried over his lifeless body and kissed him. James cried as well and regretted missing so much of his father's life during the last several years. Suddenly, what seemed at one time to be a selfless vocation of priestly service, now seemed to be a thief that robbed him of the companionship of his father. James felt badly now for becoming a priest and not staying in the bakery. But it was what he wanted at the time; his father had supported it and he loved him for it.
Thomas was buried the next day in a grave in the church yard where his family had been buried for generations. When James and Elizabeth returned to the bakery, James said, 'Mum, I am going to stay and 'elp you run the bakery.'
'You will nay do it,' retorted Elizabeth. 'Your place is in the priory.'
'Nay, mum,' resisted James, 'me place now is 'ere with you. Who will luk after you and 'elp you run the bakery?'
'Your place is in the priory. You made a covenant with The Lord and you will keep that covenant. I will nay stand in the way. God forbid.'
'Mum, 'ow will you run the bakery withoot father?' asked James.
'I am nay an old woman yet, sone. I can still work 'ard and I can 'ire 'elp. Your father left me a rich woman. I own a bakery. 'ow many women can say that? Precious few, me luv. I will be fine and you must return to the priory just as the prior as asked.'
'Aye, mum,' James replied. 'Boot remember that I luv you and send word to me if you need me 'elp.'
'I will, me luv,' promised Elizabeth.
James left the next day for the priory with the promise to visit again in the coming year, God willing. As he took leave of his mother, he almost felt as though Thomas was there watching over her. He even caught himself looking around as though he would see his father. As the donkey bore him away, he felt that his mother was in good hands, but when or if he would see her again wasn't clear.