A Cruel Courtship (19 page)

Celia took no notice, already knocking on the door of the priest’s house. But they both jumped as a shriek broke the silence. It seemed to have come from a house in the market square.

‘Where is that clerk?’ Celia said with worried impatience when the door was not opened at once.

‘We are not expected,’ Margaret reminded her, though she, too, was anxious to move inside.

At last the clerk appeared, looking harried as usual, and asked them to follow him to the kirk, where Father Piers would see them in the sacristy after he’d completed some business.

‘The sacristy?’ Margaret asked. ‘Behind the high altar?’

‘The soldiers will not go there,’ explained the clerk.

‘What do you think that shriek was?’ Celia asked in a low voice as they hurried across the yard.

Margaret shook her head. ‘I think I’d rather not know.’

She wished she had returned to the kirk to announce that she’d found Archie. She had to remind herself how unlikely it had been that they would find him straightaway; had it been so simple James would not have needed her here. But she felt adrift and a little frightened. She tried to think what James would do next. For all their careful planning, they’d been unable to see to details because they hadn’t known what she’d find. With the English army gathering below, she wondered how Archie would have avoided being caught down there. To distract herself from unwelcome doubts, she asked Celia about her movement about town.

‘What did you note about Evota and the daughter – was her name Ellen?’

Celia nodded. ‘Yes, Ellen.’

‘Anything that might help us find Archie?’

‘You might find this of no consequence, but they are tiny women – I felt almost tall,’ she grimaced comically.

‘I believe that is the first time you’ve mentioned your size to me.’

Celia shrugged. ‘It’s seldom to the point, is it?
But it might be this time.’

Margaret smiled a little at Celia’s earnest expression.

‘I thought Ellen a child,’ she said, ‘but when she stood to rebuke the children – well, she has a mature figure. Do we know how old Archie is?’

Margaret realised she did not. ‘Father Piers calls him a lad, but that is of little help. I wonder whether Evota kens her son’s whereabouts.’

The priest’s clerk reappeared, bobbing his head. ‘Father Piers is at leisure to talk with you now. If you will follow me.’ He led them down the north aisle and into the sacristy.

Father Piers rose from a table strewn with parchment and came forward with an expression of concern. ‘Has something happened that you return so soon?’

Margaret introduced Celia, who explained her concern about the English soldier, describing him with care.

Piers dropped his gaze and thought for a while, fingering the prayer beads hanging from his girdle. Margaret was disappointed when he looked up, shaking his head.

‘I do not think I know him.’

He moved back to his table and settled in his chair, scanning the documents with his eyes as if ready to return to them.

‘Forgive us for taking up your time,’ said Margaret, stung and ready to depart.

But the priest glanced up, shaking his head. ‘No, do stay.’

‘But you are busy.’

He glanced back at the desk. ‘So I am. But I’ve sent my clerk for the woman you wished to meet – the one who provides Archie with information.’

‘Does she live within the castle walls?’ Margaret asked.

‘No, without, on St Mary’s Wynd.’ He glanced at Celia. ‘Your maid can be privy to this?’

‘Yes, Celia is in my confidence.’ Margaret grew a little bolder. ‘This morning you did not wish to speak of the woman – was it because Dame Ada was present?’

Father Piers looked uncomfortable. ‘There is no such thing as too cautious at present. Everyone’s loyalties can be challenged. I pray you, heed what I say, Dame Maggie.’

She nodded.

‘Dame Ada’s liaison,’ he averted his eyes at the word, ‘with Sir Simon is of great concern to me.’

Now there were three of them concerned – four if she counted James, who would have been quite disturbed had he witnessed Ada’s reunion with Simon. Margaret prayed that Ada might remain strong.

‘Now please, sit down,’ said Piers. He told his clerk to serve some watered wine. ‘Forgive me, but it is scarce, and is truly almost gone.’

Margaret had been surprised to be served any in
the town, though not at the castle. The English kept themselves supplied. ‘Of course,’ she said as she took a seat.

He picked up some of the documents, then dropped them and came around the table. ‘The matter is out of my hands; I don’t know why I am worrying over it.’

‘Can you speak of it?’

‘It is no secret. The Lord Steward and the Earl of Lennox met with Longshanks’s royal lieutenant – Warenne, Earl of Surrey, the pompous b—’ he covered his mouth, embarrassed. ‘Forgive me, but it has raised my choler that our nobles should try negotiating with Warenne. I fear they are now hesitant to engage the enemy, a sudden timidity on seeing the expanse of the English camps. Wallace and Murray may not have the support they are counting on.’ He raked his long fingers through his thin hair, making it stand up, an uncharacteristic gesture for the fastidious Piers.

Margaret took it as a sign of his distress.

‘I understand that our party made it through the valley with little time to spare before the English troops began massing below,’ said Margaret. ‘But I didn’t know Warenne is already here.’

‘Whatever is to happen will happen soon,’ said Piers. He looked a little relieved at her knowledge of the situation. ‘I wonder whether James knew how close they were on his heels. Perhaps messages from the castle are no longer of much importance.’
He paused, considering it. ‘But we cannot assume that.’ He smoothed his hair and turned his attention to Celia. ‘Tell me what you noticed at Evota’s home.’

He expressed what seemed sincere concern about the English soldier, which Margaret thought odd after seeming disinterested a few minutes earlier.

It was not long before Dame Johanna was announced.

Demurely dressed in a simple gown and white wimple, the woman looked more like a nun than a soldier’s mistress. Sensing her hesitate on seeing strangers, Margaret rose to greet her, introducing herself and Celia.

‘James sent me.’

Johanna visibly relaxed upon hearing that. ‘I am so grateful that you have come to Stirling.’

Margaret guessed that Johanna was a little older than herself. Her smile was the sort that could light up a room, which it was doing at the moment. She was buxom and graceful, with dark brows, blue eyes, and milky white skin with just a sprinkling of scars from some pox – it was small wonder she had the pick of the soldiers.

But the smile was short-lived as Johanna continued, ‘Have you heard? Gordon Cowie the goldsmith has been murdered in his shop. Stabbed in the heart and neck.’

‘The scream we heard,’ said Celia to Margaret.

‘God have mercy on his soul,’ said Father Piers.

Margaret crossed herself and said a silent prayer for the man’s wife, the fine Isabel. She remembered Ada pointing out the goldsmith in the castle yard. ‘Why?’

It was Piers who answered. ‘In faith, I am not surprised by this news. Gordon has angered many in the town by buying favoured treatment from the English at the castle. But when did it happen, Johanna?’

‘Not long ago. I heard of it as I came here – they are crying it out in the marketplace.’

‘In daylight?’ Celia whispered. ‘How frightening that a murder could happen in daylight.’

Piers shrugged. ‘I suspect that with the garrison on the move someone must have felt the castle would not bother with a townsman’s death.’ He seemed quite unmoved by the news. Margaret thought perhaps he approved, but as a priest he would never say so.

‘Let us talk of something else,’ said Johanna. ‘Have you found Archie, Dame Maggie?’

‘No.’

‘I’d advised Dame Maggie to wait a day before going to his home,’ Father Piers explained, ‘although Celia had cause to go there today.’

‘I did not see him,’ said Celia.

Johanna sank down on to a bench, shaking her head slowly. ‘It is so unlike him to stay away for so long, and now, with this murder, I fear for him – or us.’

‘Tell Dame Maggie what you fear, Johanna,’ said Piers.

She glanced round at the waiting faces. Margaret could see that the strain of her work for Balliol had etched lines on Johanna’s forehead that belonged to an older woman.

‘Archie has mentioned many things of late that he’s seen within the castle walls. One day he bragged that they have all our meat there and he’d managed to steal a few bites. Once I forgot myself when he mentioned the soldiers’ quarters – I try not to seem too curious – and I asked him how he managed to see them. He said he had been delivering ale for his ma, which I already knew, and I asked no more, although I can’t believe he would deliver to their quarters. Mostly it was the way he said it, as if he had something to hide. He answered too quickly, too sharply. Do you see?’

Margaret found it disturbing to look into Johanna’s eyes as if her anxiety could be contagious. ‘I understand what you mean. Do you think he has betrayed you?’

Johanna fidgeted on the stool, uncomfortable with the question. ‘I cannot tell. His mother brews for both the English
and
folk in the town who are loyal to our King John, but I cannot condemn her for I ken how desperate she is, a widow with all the children to feed. In faith, the English have eased her burden, providing her with the corn for the ale.’

‘How did she attract the English custom?’ asked Margaret.

‘Anyone would have advised them that Evota is the best alewife in the town,’ said Piers. ‘She has a gift for it, no mistake.’

Margaret noticed that the priest was sweating, which was surprising on such a fastidious man, on a day not so hot as of late. ‘None of this encourages me about the wisdom of your choice of messenger.’

‘Until now there was no question of his trustworthiness, Dame Maggie,’ Piers said with a defensive lift of his chin.

‘None at all,’ Johanna agreed. ‘But it was as if Archie knew he had endangered me in some way, or Rob, my lover.’ She blushed.

Margaret shivered at her words and for a moment the room seemed to darken. She realised she was not breathing; once she took a deep breath the feeling eased. Regarding Piers, she understood he was defensive about his choice of Archie, but to break out in a sweat – it seemed extreme for him. Perhaps she had read too much into his careful dress. She reminded herself that James trusted him. And when Ada had learned who Margaret was to contact in Stirling she had been surprised because she had thought he’d be one of the first clerics to antagonise the English – he was Norman and shared the French disdain for the English. Still, he
looked
guilty.

‘What do you ken of Archie’s sister Ellen?’ Celia asked Johanna.

‘My lover believes he has seen her at the castle, but whether it was her choice he could not tell.’ Johanna nervously picked at her skirt. ‘Rob does not trust anyone in Archie’s family.’

‘I pray you, reassure me that Rob and Archie have not met!’ Piers exclaimed.

Johanna shook her head. ‘No, or not as you fear. The lad is known by the soldiers – he
does
deliver ale. And he’s willing to act as a guide. In truth, that is how he can carry messages down the hill to the Scots camp without raising suspicion. Of course he is up at the castle almost daily – it’s how he speaks of it that has me worried. And that he has disappeared.’

‘Celia, tell Johanna about the soldier who seems to haunt Evota’s house,’ said Margaret.

Celia looked pleased to be called upon once more.

Johanna nodded at the description. ‘I believe I saw this man today. His eyes sought mine and there was such a look of knowing I felt weak with fear.’

‘God help us,’ Margaret whispered, crossing herself.

‘I pray Archie has not betrayed us to this man you speak of,’ said Piers. ‘I’ve thought him a good lad, if a little simple. But hearing all this, I’m uneasy.’ He squared a few of the documents on the table as if hoping a bit of tidying might calm him. ‘It is Archie’s way to commit to a job and stop at naught to finish it. If someone has coaxed him into shifting
his loyalty, he might now be working for the English – with equal determination.’

Johanna had shaken her head as Piers spoke. Now she said, ‘That might be true if the English have offered him more coin, but I do not agree about his being simple. There is something about him – a cunning beyond his years.’

‘How easily they turn against Archie,’ Celia whispered to Margaret.

‘Though I, too, am uneasy, I’ll not condemn Archie until I’ve proof he’s no longer worthy of our trust,’ said Margaret. ‘Meanwhile, we need another messenger.’

Father Piers spoke up. ‘I propose that Johanna tell you what she has been saving for Archie, in case someone should sneak
up
the hill in desperation. I shall see to finding another messenger.’

‘Are you so certain you will find another to take the messages?’ Margaret asked.