The Guilt of Innocents (18 page)

Aubrey was another matter. Rafe and Gilbert had found no sign of him; none of his friends had seen him in days. Baldwin did not think Ysenda would tell Aubrey about the cross. Owen was not so certain – a slip was always possible. But it had already been too dark to go walking about the countryside spying on Hubert’s family.

Owen slept fitfully, dreaming of his flame-haired son Hugh running from Ysenda who chased him with a multi-thong whip. Alisoun also figured in the dream, aiming arrows too close to Hugh for Owen’s comfort. He woke in a sweat and drowsed lightly for the rest of the night, having no desire to re-enter his dreams.

Jasper snored beside him, enjoying a sleep that Owen envied. He was proud of the boy, and impressed by his endurance and perspicacity. He intended to ask Jasper to keep an eye on Hubert when they were back in York. He would be far less conspicuous than Owen or one of his men.

As a greyness showed through the chinks in the shutters, Gilbert rose to relieve himself, waking Jasper.

‘You can’t sleep, Da?’ the boy asked, his eyes only half-opened.

If there ever was a reason to be grateful for having been awake at this moment, it was to hear Jasper call him ‘da’ for the second time.

‘No. I dreamt that your little brother was being chased by Ysenda and barely missed by Alisoun’s arrows. I did not wish to return to that!’

Jasper grinned. ‘Praise God she was missing him.’ He scratched himself and rubbed his eyes. ‘Is it time to rise?’

‘No, it’s too early. Go back to sleep.’

Jasper needed no more urging. He burrowed beneath the blankets and in a short time his breathing grew slow and even.

Owen had risen shortly, and he’d been sipping mulled wine by the fire as he exchanged pleasantries with his host and hostess for a little while when Jasper finally woke. Gilbert escorted him out into the frosty morning while Lady Gamyll called to a servant to bring ale for Jasper.

‘We are grateful for your generosity,’ said Owen.

Lady Gamyll smiled. ‘You are my first guests. It has been my pleasure to see to your comfort.’

In a short while they were mounting their horses, waving their farewells. Owen had hoped Sir Baldwin would finally say whatever it was that Owen sensed he was holding back regarding Osmund, but he had not, and so he rode away disappointed, while the others were in good humour.

It was not a long ride to Ysenda’s house – they might have simply walked over to fetch Hubert, but then they would have wasted time, and Owen hoped to arrive in York in good time the following day. He wanted to discuss all he’d learned with Lucie, hear a wise woman’s view of it.

Jasper rode up beside him. ‘I’ve noticed that you don’t like Alisoun. Why not?’

‘What? Is she still on your mind?’ He chuckled at the boy’s earnest expression. ‘I find her sullen and unpleasant to be around.’ Owen thought it best to leave it there.

But obviously Jasper was not satisfied. ‘She’s been a good nursemaid.’

‘Yes. She has, son.’ Owen was glad to see Ysenda’s lonely house just ahead. ‘I think we’ll let Hubert ride with Rafe.’

They dismounted close to the house this time.

‘Rafe, Gilbert, wait out here. Watch the house. I would not like to be surprised by Aubrey’s return.’

‘And what if he’s in there?’ asked Gilbert.

‘Then I’ll have Jasper call you in.’

Both men nodded and moved to opposite sides of the door.

Jasper knocked and took a step back as Ysenda opened it. Owen stood right behind him and noticed Hubert hovering in the dimness just behind her. Ysenda’s smile seemed forced.

‘You came back,’ she said. ‘I half thought you might not.’

‘I’m a man of my word,’ said Owen. ‘May we come in?’ He reached over Jasper and put his hand on the door.

Ysenda did not miss the gesture. ‘Do come in.’ She stepped away from the door, her movement hesitant.

Inside the cottage the first thing Owen noticed was that Hubert was not dressed for travel. He
was sullen in his greeting, as he’d been the previous day.

‘I have spoken with Sir Baldwin,’ Owen began, taking a seat by the fire.

‘Oh?’ Ysenda moved to stand behind Hubert, her hands on his shoulders. ‘I have changed my mind, Captain. Hubert does not wish to return to York just yet, and I won’t force him. In truth, I will be grateful to have him here for a while.’

‘Has your husband returned?’

She shook her head. ‘Hubert can help me.’

The boy seemed to relax a little, looking less sullen, and Owen was in part happy for him. But he wondered how the lad would feel about some of the matters he intended to discuss.

‘We must talk about something, Dame Ysenda. Something that might not be entirely comfortable for Hubert. Is there somewhere he might go?’

‘I want to hear whatever you have to say,’ said Hubert, puffing out his chest in a boyish way that reminded Owen of his own unwavering confidence in himself as an archer long, long ago.

Ysenda patted her son’s shoulders. ‘Then you shall, my young man.’

‘Will you sit?’ Owen invited them.

‘I’m comfortable as I am,’ said Ysenda. ‘I’m sorry I’ve no more cider to offer you.’

Either she’d consumed a great deal since they’d been there the previous day or she resented their presence of a sudden. ‘We are not thirsty.’ Owen dropped his head for a moment, weighing various
approaches. Ysenda was either expecting a fight, but he did not know what about, or she was simply eager to see them on their way. In either instance, he decided that an abrupt approach was necessary in order to have any chance at all of discussing the origin of the cross with her.

‘While we dined with Sir Baldwin and his lady the subject of your son’s loss came up, and naturally our host was curious as to what had been so precious to Hubert that he wore his scrip at all times.’ He was irritated when Ysenda dropped her head so that he could not see her expression. ‘When I described the cross Sir Baldwin excused himself, and when he returned said that his late wife’s cross, which he would describe precisely as you did, was missing. He wondered if you’d perhaps been with child when he took Aubrey to France.’

‘Ma?’ Hubert turned around to look at Ysenda, who wore an indecipherable expression that Owen thought might be the result of warring impulses. ‘That wasn’t Lady Gamyll’s cross, was it?’ the boy asked, his voice slightly cracking with discomfort. ‘I didn’t lose hers?’

Ysenda tilted her head, and shook it once. ‘Why Sir Baldwin would think to find it at home is a sign of how little he’s cared about the manor in recent years. The cross is passed around the tenants and villagers for an easy birth. It is seldom in his care.’ She did not speak in anger, but as if gently correcting her lord’s error.

‘I am relieved to hear that the cross Hubert lost was not Lady Gamyll’s. I’ll inform Sir Baldwin that he has only to check in the village and among his tenants for the one called the birthing cross.’

‘You will find that difficult,’ Ysenda said. ‘With Father Nicholas so often away there is no one –’ She abruptly broke off and slipped down onto a bench, covering her face with her hands.

‘Ma?’ Hubert knelt on one knee trying to see her face. ‘Why are you crying?’

She pulled him to her and kissed the top of his head. ‘I am tired, so tired. I should have let you leave with them last night. Then you need never have known the value of what you lost.’ She lifted her face to the ceiling. ‘God in heaven, was it so wrong of me to want more time with my only son?’ She dissolved again in tears, holding onto the boy so hard that her knuckles paled.

Her inconsistencies were beginning to annoy Owen.

Hubert squirmed out of her clutch. ‘Ma, are you saying that the cross didn’t belong to you?’

She shook her head, still crumpled in on herself. ‘No,’ she whimpered. ‘I forgot to return it when I lost the baby.’

And had concocted a story for Owen about Aubrey having given it to her.

The boy sat down a little away from his mother. ‘I didn’t know.’

‘I did not think you would have had any idea
what it was, Hubert,’ said Owen. ‘It’s not the sort of thing a mother tells a son about.’

‘I didn’t even know about the baby,’ Hubert whispered, hugging himself.

‘Your ma wanted to spare you the worry, I’d guess,’ said Jasper, yet again making Owen proud of him. ‘Mothers don’t always know how much we guess, or how strong we are. Sometimes they just make it all harder for us, don’t you think?’

Hubert nodded without looking up.

‘Aubrey’s been hopeful that his fighting skill had improved his standing with Sir Baldwin, that he might be honoured with more land, some of the richer land by the beck. That will never happen now. We can never hope to replace the cross even if we starved from now till the Last Judgement.’ Ysenda had given her moan to the fire, but suddenly glanced up at Owen. ‘What did the dead man do with the cross? Surely he wasn’t wearing it when he died? There is still hope. Have you gone to his house?’

This brightened Hubert. ‘I had not thought of it being found. What do you think, Captain?’

Owen thought that it was now time to leave them, now that they were buoyed with hope. He rose. ‘We will do all we can to find it and return it to Sir Baldwin,’ he said. ‘If Hubert came to York with us, he might be one of the first to know if it is found.’ He looked at the boy.

Hubert shook his head. ‘I’ll not come yet, Captain. I will stand by Ma if our lord makes
much of this.’ He was not so confident as before, but Owen admired the boy’s spirit. He would grow up to be a fine lad, like Jasper.

Ysenda rose. ‘Have you asked the man’s family? Was there anyone else he might have given it to?’

‘That is what I must discover back in York,’ said Owen, ‘now that I know what was lost, what I’m looking for.’

They took their leave quickly, and were mounted and into the town of Weston before anyone might ride after them. Owen needed distance and time in which to ponder all he’d learned.

‘Did she mean to lie about the cross?’ Jasper asked when they stopped to warm themselves by a fire while enjoying the food and wine Lady Gamyll had ordered prepared for their journey.

‘Does your asking that question mean that you think she did?’ Owen asked.

‘That’s Dame Magda’s trick, answering a question with a question,’ Jasper said. He looked healthy and content, thought Owen. Lucie should be proud of the life she’d given the lad, an apprenticeship that had given him a sense of his own place until he’d felt part of the family.

‘I expected Dame Ysenda to lie, or to avoid directly answering us. Something warned her that she would regret that and she took back the lie. Or traded it for another.’

‘She’s canny,’ said Rafe. ‘I could see that yesterday.’

‘I feel sorry for her husband,’ said Gilbert. ‘I
do not think she would be an easy woman to live with.’

‘Certainly not an easy woman to leave!’ said Rafe, slapping Gilbert on the thigh.

Perhaps that was what bothered Owen about Aubrey’s absence. ‘You heard what Sir Baldwin said, the man talked of his lovely wife all the while he was away from her. He is a most contradictory man to abandon her once he’s returned to her, don’t you think?’

All three of his companions nodded. Owen wondered what Aubrey was up to.

H
ubert observed his mother humming as she swept up the snow and mud that the captain and Jasper had tracked in; her happy mood disturbed him. He’d thought she would be humbled and worried about the loss of Sir Baldwin’s cross, and worried about Aubrey’s disappearance as well, even though at the same time glad he was not there. But she appeared to be light of heart. That bothered Hubert.

He was sick at heart for having taken something that had not even belonged to his mother. His relief about the possibility that the cross might yet be found and returned to Sir Baldwin was quickly fading. His having lost what not only belonged to their lord but was also of value to the entire parish felt like an unbearably heavy guilt. He’d already feared he’d never make amends for having worn the scrip, tempting the pilot and unwittingly leading him to the action that caused his death. He wondered whether Drogo had
shown the cross to someone, and they’d decided they wanted it for themselves and killed him for it. Perhaps Drogo had meant to return the cross in the scrip, but by then the other man had taken it and cut Drogo with the poisoned blade. Hubert felt like he’d awakened in a nightmare and could not find his way out, but it was even worse, for it wasn’t just a horrible dream, it was real.

Worst of all was his confusion about his mother’s state of grace. Jasper had been right when he’d said that parents did not credit their children with half the knowledge they possessed – his mother didn’t. He was as certain as he could be that his mother had not lost a child of late. She had not been large with child before he departed for York – he knew that because he’d hugged her often, and tightly, and he’d also caught sight of her bathing in the beck on Sir Baldwin’s manor grounds. He would have seen or felt if she’d been with child, and he’d felt nothing out of the ordinary. It followed that he could not account for her having the birthing cross hidden among her things. She should not have had it. And he would be willing to make a bold wager that women had needed the cross in that time, and yet no one had come to her seeking it, so that meant to him that no one had known of her supposed pregnancy. Hubert did not like what he was thinking, that his mother was up to something sinful, even if it was only wanting a pretty thing that wasn’t hers.