Candace C. Bowen - Knight Series 03 (5 page)

Chaucey jumped up to brush the excess liquid from his surcoat. “The justice is bound to notice. He has a keen sense of smell and the eyes of a hawk.”

“Do not fret, Chaucey.” Leofrick frowned at Anne. “My mother shall have it laundered for you prior to his arrival.”

“My husband is tending the bar this evening.” Anne begrudgingly handed Chaucey a stained linen rag. “Let him or me know if you need anything else.”

Resuming his seat, Chaucey tossed the rag on the table. “Do you still believe I should not take offense?”

“Perhaps you should,” Leofrick acknowledged with a grin. “Are you often treated thusly?”

“I oftentimes take the brunt of the dislike people feel for the justice.” Taking a small sip of ale, Chaucey set his cup on the table. “I am treated far better at court. With so many sycophants seeking my employer’s notice, I tend to be quite popular.”

“I have never been inside Westminster myself. Closest I ever came was to an inn just beyond the gates.”

“Mayhap that will change in the future,” Chaucey said. “You and your family shall have an influential connection at court.”

“Let us hope the justice remains in King Henry’s favor.”

“You have nothing to fear on that account,” Chaucey assured him. “The justice has known the king since they were both young lads.”

Draining his cup, Leofrick signaled for two refills. “I had no idea they were on such affable terms.”

“The justice does not like for me to speak about his personal affairs.” Finishing his ale, Chaucey reached for the refill. “I must ask for your discretion in all matters spoken here.”

“I am nothing if not discreet,” Leofrick assured him.

“I must say, it is nice to confide in someone.” Taking a swallow, Chaucey belched. “The justice is not always the most amiable of men.”

“Amiable would be the last word I would use to describe him.”

“I consider that odd,” Chaucey admitted. “In an attempt to impress your father, the justice has been naught but kind to your family.”

Leofrick’s look of dismay turned to one of alarm when he spotted Talan on the steps. Coughing loudly, he pounded a fist against his chest until he gained his attention. Darting a glance toward his guest, he shook his head. 

Recognizing the clerk, Talan quickly returned the way he had come.

Concern had Chaucey half rising from his seat. “Leofrick, are you choking?”

“No need to worry.” Leofrick relaxed back in his seat. “I often tend to swallow too swiftly.”

“You certainly do seem to have a hearty disposition for the brew.” Chaucey’s hand shook as he sought to catch up.

“You are wrong on that account.” Leofrick chuckled. “When it comes to ale, Sir Albin could drink every man here under the table, me included.”

“If that is the case, it must have been preordained for him to wed an alewife.”

“After his and Lady Lecie’s recent troubles, I would say they are both deserving of a boon,” Leofrick said.  

“I hope you do not blame me for—”

“Speak no more about the matter.” Leofrick signaled to Simon for more ale. “What is done is done.”

Surprised by the speed of the request, Simon caught Anne’s eye. When his wife shrugged, he filled an earthenware pitcher from the keg and brought it to the table. Glaring his disapproval at Chaucey, he set it beside Leofrick.

Leofrick picked up the pitcher to replenish the mugs. “This will save you some time, eh Simon?”

“Summon me if you need anything else, Mister Leofrick.” With a last look of loathing at Chaucey, Simon returned to the bar.

“It would be nice if more people believed as you.” Chaucey picked up his cup with a look of resignation. “It is not easy being so despised.”

“Take heart,” Leofrick said, “tis the justice they despise, not you.”

“And well they should. He is a despicable man and everyone knows it.” Chaucey belched again. “If he does not manipulate events to his advantage through fear, he uses outright intimidation. I have seen highborn nobles cower afore the justice.”

“He is a man of great responsibilities. Mayhap it is his position that forces him to act in such a way.”

“He would not have the position at all if he were not blackened to the very core.” Chaucey propped his elbow on the table.

Leofrick ran a hand along his beard with a frown. “Surely the justice must have some merit?”

“Aye, he does. He is the shrewdest man I have ever met. It did not sit well with him when Baron Erlegh usurped his influence at Lady Lecie’s trial. The justice felt he was made to look the fool.” Finishing his ale, Chaucey nearly missed the table when setting the cup down. “Mayhap I should not speak thusly. I know you are friends with Sir Albin.”

“We are mere acquaintances. Now that the tower is nearing its completion, it is unlikely I shall ever see the Erlegh knights again.” Leofrick omitted the fact that he looked upon Lecie like he would a sister. Having known her from childhood, he fully intended to remain close to her family.

“I need to make use of the garderobe.” Staggering to his feet, Chaucey bumped into several seated patrons.

Eyeing his unsteady progress, Leofrick waited until Chaucey entered the passageway at the back of the tavern. Unaffected by the amount of ale he had consumed, he signaled to Anne. “I would ask a favor of you.”

“Whatever you ask, Mister Leofrick. I will gladly assist if I am able.”

“I need you to carry a message to Sir Talan. Tell him to come down and act surprised when he joins us. He will know what I mean.”

“Consider it done.” Anne gathered her skirts and hastened up the steps. Chaucey was once again seated at the table when she returned to the common room.

Leofrick had plied yet another cup of ale on Chaucey by the time Talan made his appearance. “Leofrick, I am surprised to see you here. Is not your sister to be wed soon?”

“Sir Talan, it is good to see you again.” Arching his arm toward Chaucey, Leofrick intentionally sloshed ale out of his cup. “Meet a friend of mine. Chaucey here is clerk to the king’s itinerant justice. We are sharing a drink afore the justice arrives on the morrow.”

“We have not been formally introduced, yet I know well who he is.” Talan’s eyes narrowed briefly. “I am Talan, Knight to Baron Erlegh, and friend to Sir Albin and his lady wife, Lecie.”

“Why not take a seat and join us for a drink?” Leofrick shoved a chair out with his booted foot. “My friend has very little leisure time so we are making the most of it.”

Chaucey swayed in his seat with a drunken grin as he tried to focus on Talan. “I am Chaucey, Clerk to Justice de Glanville.”             

“I am already aware of that fact.” Talan signaled Simon for a cup.

“I fear I am not used to imbibing so much ale. I seem to be well into my cups. The justice would not approve.” Chaucey jerked his head from left to right. “He would not approve at all.”

“Although it is not likely I shall encounter the justice, I assure you that he will not hear of it from me,” Talan said.

“You are too kind, Sir Talan,” Chaucey said. “Not at all like the justice described you.”

“That is all very well and good.” Accepting a cup from Simon, Talan filled it from the pitcher. “If you feel like retching, kindly do so in the other direction.”

Leofrick caught Talan’s eye with a meaningful look. “Chaucey here was just telling me about the justice’s past wives, all three of them.”

Straightening in his seat Talan visibly paled. “Did you say three?”

“Aye, he did,” Chaucey slurred, drinking from his cup. “Three. They were all beautiful like Mistress Mylla, if you do not mind my saying, Leo. Lady Kaylein was the kindest of all to me,” he trailed off.

Leofrick’s cup froze on the way to his lips. “How old is the justice?”

“One year shy of three score. He was born the same year as our good king in 1068.” Chaucey swayed in his seat. “Well past his prime in any event.”

“Did he have children with any of his wives?” Talan asked.

“Nay, he did not.” Chaucey hiccupped. “Not for lack of trying mind you. The justice claimed all three of his wives were barren. Any thinking man would conclude differently, if you know what I mean.”

“Never mind all that.” Talan slid his full cup over to the clerk. “Since I am assuming the justice is a widower, what happened to his wives?”

“His first wife, Angmar, died in a tragic accident. It was concluded that she tripped on the hem of her gown while descending the tower steps leading from her solar.” Chaucey hiccupped again. “I was not in the justice’s service when it happened. A female domestic I was rather close to for a time told me in confidence while we were swiving. She could su—”

“I believe we get the gist,” Talan interrupted. 

“Anyway,” Chaucey went on. “After what happened to his following two wives, I had my suspicions about the accident, and I was not the only one.” Chaucey peered in the direction of Talan. “I discovered the justice was in residence at the time and many in the household believe the lady may have been assisted in her tumble.”

“Did the justice fall under suspicion?” The color drained from Leofrick’s face.

“In the halls of Westminster he did,” Chaucey slurred. “Rumors follow him still about the demise of his wives, yet no one would dare accuse him of murder, in his presence anyway.”

“What happened to his second wife?” Talan spoke without emotion.

“Lady Maerwynn drowned in the castle moat. Apparently, she was walking along the outer ramparts when she disturbed a nesting dove. Startled, she lost her balance and tumbled off the wall. Witnesses below said she surfaced so it was surmised that she survived the fall into the water. It is believed that the weight of her gown pulled her under.”  Taking a swig of ale, Chaucey swayed to set his cup on the table and missed. Mesmerized by the shattered cup on the planked flooring, he fell silent.

“Anne will see to it,” Leofrick said to regain Chaucey’s attention.

“Oh, of course,” Chaucey lurched upright to resume his thread of thought. “More than a few servants believed the lady took her own life. The justice declared it an accident so she could be buried in sanctified ground.”

“Only you do not think it was an accident, do you?” Talan asked.

“I believe the lady took her own life to free herself from her husband’s intolerable cruelty. She was filled with sorrow in the days leading up to her death.” Chaucey settled watery red eyes on Talan. “I regret not having the courage to reach out to her.”

“Being wed to the justice I am amazed she ever felt differently,” Leofrick said.

“What of the third wife?” Talan pressed. “What happened to her?”

Chaucey closed his eyes. “I dare not speak of it.”

“The justice is about to marry my beloved sister,” Leofrick said, “I beseech you to share all you know.”

“It is a shame he is to wed her, Leo, for I do not think Mylla will live long under the justice’s roof.” Swallowing convulsively, Chaucey grabbed for his cup. “In Lady Kaylein’s case, I believe the justice had committed outright murder.”

Chapter Five

“Tell us what happened.” Talan’s tone held no room for argument.

Chaucey’s shoulders slumped. “You must believe me when I say that I had no idea the justice would do harm to Lady Kaylein. Had I known he was even thinking about it, I would have found a way to warn her.”

“You were in love with her,” Leofrick said, “were you not?”

“Tis true. I dared to love a noblewoman more than I loved my own pitiful life.” Chaucey shook his head sadly. “Not that I ever held out any hope you understand. Even had she not possessed royal blood through her mother’s line, she remained far above my humble station.”

“Lady Kaylein possessed a royal bloodline?” Talan looked over at Leofrick.

“Aye, her mother was cousin to King Henry twice removed. The family dwelt in Normandy. On a familial visit to the palace the justice pressed the king for an introduction to Lady Kaylein. Not long after their first meeting he petitioned the king for her hand.”

“Did the lady wish to wed the justice?” Talan asked.

“Her family approved of the match so I do not think she was given a choice.” Chaucey’s lower lip trembled. “She was so kind to me, and beautiful.” 

“Never mind that,” Leofrick said gripping Chaucey’s bowed shoulder. “What did the justice do to her?”

“I do not know how the vile deed was done,” Chaucey said. “One morning whilst we were in the London manor he summoned me to his chamber on the third floor. He appeared more agitated than usual. It was then that he informed me Lady Kaylein had made a cuckold of him by fleeing with a traveling minstrel she had met in the palace.” Chaucey looked from Leofrick to Talan. “The Lady was forbidden to travel anywhere unescorted by him so I knew it to be a falsehood.”

“Is it possible she could have fled on her own?” Talan hastily waved away Anne when she approached the table. “Mayhap he came up with the story of a lover to assuage his ego.”

“I would have to disagree,” Leofrick said, “a man of his character would prefer his wife to flee over admitting he had been cuckolded. Regardless of the truth, neither story casts him in a favorable light.”

“Lady Kaylein did not flee,” Chaucey said. “She would never have abandoned the servants to the justice’s unbearable cruelty.”

“So what do you think happened?” Refilling Chaucey’s cup, Leofrick passed it to him.

“It is my belief that she stayed to protect us,” Chaucey said. “The only time I had ever seen her stand up to the justice was when he would physically attack those in his service.”

“How did the justice react when the lady defied him?” Talan asked.

“He would strike her for the slightest of transgressions.” Chaucey winced as if in pain. “Oftentimes she bore the brunt of the justice’s abuse. More than once she would present herself with a blackened eye or bruises on her face. Those in the manor knew the cause of her frequent injuries, only there was nothing we could do about it.”

“Had she cause to intercede on your behalf?” Feeling pity for the clerk, Talan’s tone had softened.

“The majority of the abuse involved me or Line,” Chaucey said.

“Who is Line?” Talan slid Chaucey’s untouched cup closer to him.

Taking a few swallows of ale, Chaucey wiped his upper lip with the back of his hand. “Line had been Lady Kaylein’s personal attendant since early girlhood. She was extremely devoted to her mistress. After our lady’s disappearance, Line confided in me that the only item missing from her chamber was the nightgown she wore upon retiring the night she went missing. What lady would flee dressed only in a thin chemise?”

“None with any sense about them,” Leofrick said with a grim look.

“Lady Kaylein had her wits about her that I assure you,” Chaucey said. “She was so kind to me and—“

“Beautiful,” Talan finished for him. “We know. Did her attendant happen to mention anything else?”

“Line told me that the following morning the justice sought her out. He ordered her to burn all of Lady Kaylein’s clothing. When Line carried out his orders, she discovered our lady’s jewel cask had been removed from the wardrobe.”

“Perhaps Lady Kaylein took it with her,” Leofrick suggested. “The fact that it is missing gives credence to the theory she fled.”

“Not possible.” Chaucey shook his head. “Line was certain the cask was in the chamber after our lady’s disappearance.”

“There is still not enough proof of murder,” Talan said. “De Glanville could claim he had her clothes burned out of anger, and the absence of jewels would make it look like she fled.”

“I believe it is safe to assume he would not take the risk of selling her jewels so soon after his wife’s disappearance,” Leofrick said. “It would make him appear culpable.”

“Then the jewels may very well be with the lady’s remains.” Talan picked up on his train of thought. “How fortunate for us if that were the case.”

“Regrettably, I am not the only one with a mind bent on the law. De Glanville is shrewd and will likely have thought the matter through.” Leofrick shifted to Chaucey. “Does Line still reside in the justice’s household?”

“He immediately sent her back to Normandy,” Chaucey said bitterly. “It near came close to breaking her gentle heart.”

“Her heartbreak aside, let us consider that a good thing,” Leofrick said. “Had the justice believed her to be a threat, it is likely she would have disappeared soon after her mistress.”

“What happened after the justice spread word that Lady Kaylein had run away?” Talan asked.

“The day he reported her disappearance my employer held a private audience with the king. I know not what lies he told our sovereign, but the justice returned to the manor jovial of spirit. He later instructed me to draft a letter to William de Corbeil the Archbishop of Canterbury requesting that the marriage be annulled.”

“Annulled on what grounds?”

“In their brief marriage Lady Kaylein had failed to produce an heir for the justice. He had me state in the letter it was due to her refusal to perform her avowed marital duties.” Chaucey swallowed convulsively. “I could attest to the falseness of that particular statement, for if the mood struck the justice, it would not matter if the lady were willing.”  

“Did the archbishop grant the annulment?” Talan asked.

“He did not even question the justice’s account,” Chaucey said. “After conferring with the king, the archbishop declared the marriage nullified.”

“I think we are all in accord that de Glanville slayed the lady,” Leofrick said. “What we need to do now is discover what he did with her remains.”

“Tis no secret to me,” Chaucey said. “I know where the lady rests.”

“You know?” Anger was once again evident in Talan’s tone. “If that is the case, why did you not do something about it? Had you provided evidence directly to the king, we would not now be here.”

Chaucey looked suddenly fearful of the knight leaning toward him across the table.

“What Talan means to say,” Leofrick said, “is that we know there was nothing you could do about it. What did the justice do with the lady’s body?”

Too drunk to sort out the truth of the situation, Chaucey instantly relaxed. “My employer had a large padlocked trunk in his chambers where he kept his coin and important documents. Less than a senight after Lady Kaylein’s disappearance it was the source of a foul stench. Even had it not been locked, I would not have found the courage to look inside.”

“Because you knew what it held,” Leofrick said.

“Aye,” Chaucey admitted, “it could have been naught else buy my lady’s remains. After the smell became unbearable, the justice ordered me to summon two strong serfs from the stables to move it to the manor’s cellar. If you are not yet aware, my employer takes delight in breaking people. He had his own personal torture chamber built beneath his London residence. Oftentimes he experiments with different forms of torture in private prior to unveiling the method in public.”

“After witnessing his dealings with Lecie,” Leofrick said, “I thought the justice would be a swift executioner.”

“He saves torture for his personal enemies.” Chaucey once again averted his gaze. “His greatest aspiration is to have Baron Erlegh in his grasp. My employer truly despises him.”

“Your employer would have to go through me first,” Talan sneered.

“So, Chaucey,” Leofrick diverted the clerk’s attention. “You were saying the lady’s remains were brought to the cellar?”

It took Chaucey a moment to recollect his train of thought. “My employer had an oubliette dug into the floor of his torture chamber. After a few days of being locked into the lightless hole in the earth would have the most defiant of men begging for mercy.”

“We know what an oubliette is,” Talan said.

“Of course you do.” Chaucey swallowed convulsively. “I must be rambling.”

“Go on,” Leofrick coaxed, “Talan will not interrupt you again.”

“Indeed I will not.” Crossing his arms, Talan sat back.

“My employer ordered the two serfs to place the trunk inside the oubliette, only it would not fit. They were then forced to tip it on its side. When they did a foul smelling liquid began to seep through the cracks.” Chaucey began to sob. “God help me, I knew what it was, who it was.” 

“The man is a vile fiend.” Leofrick slammed the earthenware cup in his hand against the table. Splintering in pieces a shard sliced into his palm.  

“He shall be held accountable,” Talan seethed. “No man is above the law.”

“The justice will not be held accountable,” Chaucey uttered. Oblivious to the rage emanating from his two drinking companions he took a long swallow of ale to calm his nerves. “When Mistress Mylla fails to produce an heir I fear the same fate awaits her.”

“I will see the justice in hell first.” Talan slammed his palms on the table.              

A look of awe slowly registered on Chaucey’s face as he peered up at Talan. “I have never known anyone to even dare think such a thing, let alone put voice to it.”

“Then you do not know me.” Noting the attention their discussion had drawn, Talan made eye contact with the bolder eavesdroppers until they returned to their own discussions.

“It is the drink speaking in place of my friend, Chaucey,” Leofrick said. “On the morrow he will forget all that was said here.”

Chaucey nodded jerkily in understanding. “I heard drink has a way of doing that to a man.”

“What of the two serfs who were ordered to move the trunk?” Leofrick resumed the questioning. “Surely they could stand witness to your account.”

“Nay, they cannot,” Chaucey said. “My employer knows if his foul deed was ever discovered the king would likely turn on him. Tis the reason he had the two serfs executed on false charges of sedition within a sennight of my lady’s murder.”

“It appears the justice thinks of everything,” Talan seethed.

“Indeed he does,” Chaucey admitted. “I would not be sitting here now if he did not have complete confidence in my discretion.”

“Merde,” Leofrick swore. “The man is a fiend.”

“Even without the men’s testimony, proof of the justice’s guilt remains in his London residence,” Talan said. “We can petition the king directly to launch an enquiry.”

“Do not delude yourselves. The justice has the king’s ear,” Chaucey said. “I have seen for myself the comradery between them.”

“Does their comradery extend so far the king would overlook the outright murder of his blood kin?” Talan shook his head. “I think not.”

“The justice considers himself to be above the law. He will have an explanation for every charge laid against him,” Chaucey insisted. “I do not foresee him being held accountable for his crimes in this life. I can only pray he meets his judgment in the next.”

“The justice has set his malevolent gaze on my sister,” Leofrick fumed. “If anything happens to her, I will be his judge, jury, and executioner. I avow it afore God.”

“Thank you for sharing my burdens. I feel so much… better.” Swaying back and forth the drink finally caught up to Chaucey. He fell out of his seat with a resounding thud.

“The currish knave shall not wed my Mylla.” Ignoring the clerk passed out by his feet, Talan’s look was grim. “He will have to slay me first.”

Fisting his bloodied hand, Leofrick stood. “He will have to slay us both.

†

Mylla was shaken awake by Leofrick in the predawn hours. Stifling a shriek, she sat up in bed. “Leo, what is it? What is amiss?”

Holding a tallow candle aloft, her brother sat on the edge of the bed. “Do you love Talan?”

Mylla rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “You woke me from a sound sleep to ask such a foolish question?”

“Answer me, La-La.”

Leofrick’s tone had her studying his face in the flickering candle light. “Of course I love him. More than I love myself.”

“Then pack a satchel, we do not have much time.”

“I do not understand,” Mylla said. “Where is it we are going?”

Mylla’s door opening startled them both.

Leofrick’s face fell when his mother entered to softly close the door behind her. “If you two do not keep your voices down you will wake the entire household.”