The Innocent (30 page)

"Thank you," Fulk said. After turning his mount, he led his troupe slowly away from the convent. Above them the sky was a gray-black. The earlier rain had subsided, but the dampness made the night even darker than usual on a moonless night. The flaming torches flickered in the light breeze, dancing eerily as the men moved along. There was no choice but to go slowly, for the track was narrow and the night murky. Fulk was frothing with impatience. He had been gulled as neatly as any country lad in the city for the first time.

If anything happened to the lady Eleanore or the little lordling, what was he to tell his master when he returned from Normandy? He had failed in his duty to protect them, and his heart was sore weary with the knowledge. Instinct had warned him that something was wrong, but he had hesitated to question his mistress.
He should have.
She was young and inexperienced. Her convent upbringing caused her to look at the world with an especially kind eye. She trusted too easily. It could be the death of her, he feared. By the rood! A turtle could move faster than they were going! How far had they come? A mile? Three? He would wager that they weren't even halfway there.

The bell tolling from the manor church alerted them to the fact that they were practically at Ashlin. It was as if they were being guided home.
But why was the bell pealing?
Fulk stopped his troupe to consider a moment. Without the torches, they couldn't see their own hands outstretched before them. That meant that neither could the enemy. No one could be lying in wait for them under these circumstances. Had the Welsh broken into the manor enclosure itself? Anything was possible, but something told him this had not happened. He signaled his men forward. The bell was tolling an alarm, he decided. Now suddenly he could see the lights upon the walls of Ashlin. He hurried his troupe a bit faster. He could see the shadowed outlines of the walls and sheep in the fields and meadows on either side of the track. This was odd. If the Welsh had come, why hadn't they taken the livestock?

Fulk moved his companions up the hill to the manor enclosure. The drawbridge was lowered, and the portcullis raised. He stopped again, cautious and confused. What was going on? Then he heard Sim calling to him. Signaling his men to remain where they were, he moved his mount forward to meet his second in command.

"Captain Fulk! Is that you? They have taken the lady!" Sim cried.
"They have taken the lady!"

Fulk waved his men forward. "How?" He snapped the question as he rode into the enclosure. "Lower the portcullis, and raise the drawbridge when all have entered," he said. Dismounting, he flung his reins to a young stableboy.
"How?"
he repeated.

"We are not certain." Sim’s voice quavered.

"Who was on the gate, and what of the men on the walls?" Fulk asked, manfully keeping his temper in check.

"Alfred was on the gate. He and the men on the walls were drugged, Captain. They slept for no more than an hour, and naught was believed to be amiss. Then old Ida come screeching from the house, crying the lady was gone. Willa had taken the little lordling to Lady Eleanor to be fed, and she was not in her bed. They searched the house, but she could not be found. The women are hysterical, and the little lordling cries for his supper," Sim concluded.

"Go to Orva, and tell her we need a wet nurse immediately for the little lord. Then come to the house. I am going to search it myself," Fulk told the man-at-arms.
By the rood! By the holy rood!
He had known that something was wrong! Why hadn't he listened to his voice within instead of blindly obeying the wishes of a sweet, but very naive, young woman? His search of the house would be futile, he knew, from the raised portcullis, the lowered drawbridge, and the open gates, but he had to satisfy himself that she really was gone. His grizzled features grim, Fulk entered the house and was immediately surrounded by howling women. "Be silent!" he roared at them, and they ceased their wails. His glance lit on Willa, dry-eyed and looking calmer than any. "What happened?" he asked her, "and the rest of you keep your mouths shut!"

"We went to bed shortly after the sun had set as we usually do unless there are guests. Shortly before midnight the little lord became restless, and Alyce, his nurse, brought him to the lady to be fed, but the lady was not there. We searched for her, but could not find her, and it was then we raised the alarm."

"Were you all in the hall tonight?" Fulk asked Willa.

"All but Alyce."

"Arwydd?"

"Nay, Arwydd ate in the kitchens earlier, for she was working in the lady’s herbal gardens," Willa replied. "She has spent the last few days carefully digging and covering the plants for winter."

A brief grim smile touched Fulk’s lips. They had all been given some sort of mild sleeping draught, all but for Alyce, who had been tending her little charge, and Arwydd, who had probably administered the potion into the food and drink that was served; her presence in the kitchens earlier being the key to the puzzle. "Where is Arwydd?" he asked. "When was the last time you saw her?"

Willa thought hard, and then she said, "I have not seen Arwydd since yesterday afternoon when she told me she was going to work in the gardens, and asked the lady’s permission to eat early in the kitchens."

"Christ’s bloody bones!"
The fierce oath burst forth from Fulk’s mouth with such violence that the women jumped back, whimpering. "I knew that wench was false, but I could not prove it, worse luck!" His balled fist drove into his palm. "Jesu! Who would want so badly to kidnap the lady that they would plan so cunningly?
Who? And why?"
His brow was contorted as he struggled for an answer. The lady surely had no enemies. Did the lord? They knew little about his life before he had come to Ashlin, save that he was a loyal knight of King Stephen and had once had family in Normandy. In Fulk’s mind it was unlikely that Ranulf de Glandeville would have an enemy this vengeful. He was simply not that kind of man.
Who, then?

"It is that witch that killed our lord Richard," old Ida suddenly said.

"Why do you say that?" Fulk asked her, dismissive of the elderly woman, but nonetheless curious.

"Has there not been a Welsh bandit riding with a golden-haired woman these many months?" Ida demanded. "Did not the bitch escape from her father’s custody as she was about to be clapped into a nunnery? Did she not intend to wed our sweet lady to her cousin then kill her as she had killed her husband? And all so she could have the cousin and Ashlin for herself? But our lady was saved from the bitch’s evil plotting, and the lady Isleen"-Ida spat upon the floor-"given punishment by the king himself. A punishment which she escaped. She is the only person I can imagine who would hold such a hard grudge against our sweet lady."

"What you say holds a possibility of truth in it," Fulk replied thoughtfully. The old woman could have hit upon something, he considered. "But why take the lady? Why not steal the livestock instead?"

"The lady will bring a ransom from her husband," Ida replied scathingly, as if he should have realized that himself. "As for the rest, how am I expected to know the workings of a bandit’s mind? You are a man. You are the soldier. It is up to you to learn the rest!"

Orva entered the hall just then, bringing with her a young woman. "Maris can feed the little lordling. Her son is ready to be weaned. She is healthy, and her milk rich," Orva said.

"Thank God," Alyce said, handing her charge to the wet nurse. "Poor mite’s been whimpering for hours now. I give him a sugar teat, but he needed milk."

As if to give her words truth, Simon Hubert’s mouth clamped itself about Maris’s quickly bared nipple, causing her to start, and he began sucking noisily, his small hands moving up to knead the woman’s breast. His bright blue eyes slowly closed with his ecstasy, and he relaxed in Maris’s cradling arms. The women all smiled with relief, and Fulk nodded. At least here was one problem that had been easily solved.

"What are you going to do to find the lady Eleanore?" Willa asked boldly. "She has been gone for several hours now, and you can already see the dawn beginning to stain the skies."

"It is the false dawn," he told her, "but the real one will not be far behind, lass. You women must keep to your daily schedule as if all were well. You will do this for the little lord’s sake. It must not be known that Ashlin is without
both
its lord and its lady, lest the child be thought vulnerable by ambitious men Like Baron Hugh." Although at this point, Fulk thought to himself,
I'd follow my instincts and fight the king himself to protect the child.
"My men have been riding all night, and without proper nourishment," he told the women clustered about him. "See they are fed as quickly as possible, for we shall have to go after the lady as soon as it is Light."

Fulk left the hall then to see to his men and the horses. It was beginning to rain again, he noted with displeasure. He sought out Father Oswin, whom he found praying in the church. The young priest arose from his knees, his brown robes swirling about his bony ankles.

"Good morrow, Father. You pray for the lady, I assume.".

"I do, Captain."

"She has been kidnapped, I am certain," Fulk said. "We must keep this occurrence secret for the sake of the little lord. Do you understand me, Father?"

"Aye," the priest agreed. "With the lord away and the lady gone, we need no other difficulties, eh, Fulk? Do you know who has taken the lady? And what will you do about it?"

"I do not know who, but I suspect the Welshman called Merin ap Owen who has been raiding hereabouts. We rode all night using torches to Light our path, but it was slow going. As soon as my men are fed, we will take up the pursuit. I shall leave Sim in charge of defense when I am gone, and you in charge of the rest until the lady is brought home or the lord returns."

"Do you expect it, then, to take time?"

Fulk shook his head. "I do not know, Father. I honestly do not know. First I must find out for certain who has the lady. Only then can I move on to the problem of how to get her safely home."

"I know you to be a man of action with little tolerance for fools, my friend. And I know you believe in action more than you do in prayer, but, believe me, I shall be praying for your success and the safety of the lady nonetheless," the priest finished with a small smile at the soldier.

"She would want your prayers," Fulk said quietly, "so therefore I will want them, too." With a nod to the priest he hurried off again.

The dawn came in gray and chill. The rain began in earnest, and grew into a steady downpour by the time Fulk and his men were ready to set forth in search of Elf. Fulk cursed the skies angrily. Whatever trail had been left by the kidnappers would be washed out. It was useless even to consider starting out until the rains stopped. He dismissed the men and stomped into the hall, grumbling beneath his breath and wondering why God was testing his patience in this manner when the lady’s very life might be in danger.

With no trail to follow he would have to rely on his instincts. The first thing he must do is learn where Merin ap Owen had his lair. The next step would be to ascertain if the lady Eleanore was actually being held by the bandit. If he had taken her, he would want her for ransom. What kind of a ransom? And how the hell were they supposed to pay a ransom when the lord was away? Fulk rubbed his brow. It hurt with all his cogitation, but without the lord to make these decisions, it was up to him to do so.

He groaned with frustration. He didn't even know where the lord was, or why he had truly gone, for he didn't really believe that tale the lord had told of going to Normandy to render his fealty to Duke Henry. Ashlin was no great holding. Ranulf de Glandeville could have rendered a new king his loyalty when that king came to England, and not a moment before. No offense would have been taken at all by such action. There was something else, but the lady had confided in no one, or else she herself did not know. Being such an innocent, she would accept her husband’s word in the matter. So, Fulk realized, he would not be able to send a messenger to his master telling him of what has transpired. They were on their own in this matter. Fulk rubbed his brow again. Being in charge was a very difficult thing, and he would never again envy his betters.

The autumn rains did not let up for three long days and nights. The morning of the fourth day dawned cloudy, but dry. Whatever chance they might have had of following the kidnappers' tracks was long gone, the trail having been washed away over the previous few days. Fulk prepared to go in search of Merin ap Owen’s hidey-hole, but Sim, his second in command, would not be content unless he himself went.

"You insisted upon leading the troupe to St. Frideswide's," he reminded his captain, "and look what happened in your absence. This time I will go. Besides, I am not as well-known as you are, Fulk."

"I did not insist, the lady sent me," Fulk protested.

"You could have sent me in your stead and remained at Ashlin," Sim rejoined. "You are the lord’s chosen man to defend Ashlin and the little lord. If you were lost to us, what would happen? I am at least expendable, although I assure you I intend returning home in one piece."

"It would have made no difference if I were here or not," Fulk said stubbornly. "The food, the drink, something was drugged with a sleeping potion. I would have slept as soundly as you did, Sim. Still, there is merit in your argument. I have the most experience of any here in matters of warfare and defense. When the time comes to rescue the lady, I will lead our men forth, but for now you are better suited than I to seek out Merin ap Owen and to see if it is he who holds the lady his prisoner. If he does not, I do not know where to look. All we can do is wait for a ransom demand."

"Which you could read, but I cannot!" Sim said triumphantly.

"The priest could read it for you," Fulk replied with a small smile. Sim was anxious to prove his mettle, and so he should have the opportunity. "If you think to have my place one day, Sim," he told the young man, "you will have to learn how to read and write. A man advances farther when he is educated and can be of more use to his master. A man without knowledge is but fit to work the fields or die in the first charge, lad."