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Authors: Mary Bale

Tags: #Historical Mystery, #Female sleuth, #Medieval

Threads of Treason (21 page)

BOOK: Threads of Treason
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On reaching the first knight the second swung his sword at his opponent’s neck, letting out a horrendous yell. But the blow was parried by the first knight’s sword. The two continued to fight, turning and twisting until she lost track of which one was which. She dared not move. How could such a thing be happening? Norman against Norman on English soil? She knew, of course, something about the past unrest in England, but she’d assumed any invaded country would resist a new order. This was something quite different, and she wondered if she could trust any Norman knight who chose to fight a compatriot. And she had no idea which one was Sir Gilbert, though she was sure one of them must be. She looked about for his and the other’s horse and saw none, but they could be over the brow of the hill.

Their weighty long swords crashed into each other making an ear-shattering din. They were so close, just beyond her fallen tree-trunk. She covered her ears, but dared not shut her eyes in case they saw her and turned on her as a witness to the fight.

Both men were staggering now with exhaustion. Therese could barely watch. She knew one must die and the end would be soon. One of the knights lifted his sword, swung it with practised expertise and took the other’s head off in one swing. Still with its helmet on, the head rolled away while the body it was once attached to slumped to the ground. Therese stuck her fist in her mouth and bit her hand to stop herself from screaming.

The remaining knight grabbed the head and strode up the hill. He stopped almost at its ridge and examined a mound of black earth there – the Impostor’s grave. He dropped the head onto it and stood for a moment over the grave. He turned and walked back down the hill towards Therese. Still she was unable to work out who he was. He had not even removed his helmet and the nose-guard concealed most of his face.

She shrunk down behind her tree-trunk. He must be something to do with the Impostor, she thought. Had he killed Sir Gilbert and was he offering his dead body up to her? She was sure that he was returning to collect the dead knight’s body. The blood no longer flowed from its neck. The warm liquid was mixing with the damp soil. She swallowed hard. She would have to make her own way to get help. That thought must have made her move imperceptibly, but clearly enough to alert the knight already lifting the body, for he turned in her direction. She swung away and started to run along the edge of the wood, her wet clothing wrapping around her legs.

She knew she did not have the speed or strength of a knight, even one who had just done battle, and when she felt herself fall she expected to feel briefly the cold of metal of his sword and then she would meet her maker. Instead she felt a firm hand grab the clothing across her back and pull her up straight. When she looked around, she saw Sir Gilbert’s eyes smiling apologetically at her. Even so she was unsure whether to trust him.


It is me. I had to get new armour in a hurry. You know mine was stolen. I’m sorry I frightened you.’ He paused. ‘Did you see what just happened?’


I saw you fight with that Norman knight and I saw him die.’


You did not see what happened before that?’

Therese shook her head.


The knight I killed was the one we all thought drowned on the sea crossing from Normandy, Sir Brian. I’ve been stationed here since Alfred was arrested – I assume you know about that?’

Therese nodded. She felt a little reassured. ‘I knew the Abbess would not leave me unguarded. I came to find Alfred’s replacement. But when I saw two Norman knights fighting I did not know what to think…’


Listen, you need to know this, Sister Therese. I am not a traitor. While I was waiting today I brought my horse down to eat the rich grass by the woods. I was sitting on that very trunk you were hiding behind when Sir Brian came by. He did not see me, but went to that grave and started praying and then weeping over it. I knew it to be the Impostor’s grave as the builders had told me when I first arrived. I think they feared me after the arrests in the neighbouring camp.’


And you approached him?’


I did. We spoke. I’ve known him many years. This woman who lies here was definitely not a nun. She was as Sir Brian put it, “My love.” Many of us have taken Anglo-Saxon wives. I understood his difficulty. I said to him to do what he had to do and then surrender himself to me. I would take him to Bishop Odon de Bayeux and ask for his mercy.’


You didn’t expect Sir Brian to turn on you.’


I know that you will not understand, Sister, as you do not believe in such things, but I expected him to take his own life to join her in purgatory, and I would have buried them together.’


They can still be laid together,’ observed Therese. ‘I do not think we should take him to the priory. That would cause too much of a disruption so we must bury him with great haste. I need you to take a message to Abbess Eleanor. I need help. They are going to act against the embroidery tonight. I have been warned. But I still don’t know who they are.’ She was almost breathless with urgency.

Therese and Gilbert completed a makeshift burial. Therese knelt by it and patted the soil. She prayed for a moment.

Gilbert whistled his horse and the animal trotted over the hill to his master with the fallen knight’s horse following it. ‘Come back with me, Sister Therese. It is too dangerous here.’

Therese shook her head. Even with Gertrude’s warning still ringing in her ears, she knew she could not leave. ‘No, there may be something else I can do here. Be quick.’ They wiped the soil from their hands on the grass and Therese watched him leave before wading back through the woods towards the priory.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 19

 

 

 

 

Therese burst into the kitchen and crashed into Agnes, who was on her way out with vegetable trimmings. Agnes brought the basket up above her head to avoid spilling it and as Therese recovered herself Agnes took it outside to the animal feed tub. Therese followed her. She so wanted to tell her what she knew.


Sister Agnes, you must leave here. It’s too dangerous to stay.’


And where would I go?’


Any priory would take you in, you know that.’


Are you going?’


No.’


Then neither am I.’ Agnes viewed her and Therese shivered, her wet clothes finally chilling her. ‘Your own habit has been waiting for you and now you look as if you need it,’ observed Agnes going to a cupboard in the corner. ‘It’s well aired.’

Therese thankfully donned the dry linen chemise and the warm woollen tunic, before leaving the sanctuary of the kitchen. She decided she would have to find Gertrude as it was already getting to the time of day when they were required to sweep the workroom. She made for the cloister. Hilda was coming from the direction of the chapter house when she arrived by the base of the tower. Hilda waved and strode up to her.


Where have you been?’ she demanded. ‘Never mind. I can’t find Sister Gertrude anywhere. Prioress Ethelburga will be rightfully annoyed if the room is not clean. Could you manage it on your own this evening? I’ll let you in and come and let you out when you’ve finished. Prioress Ethelburga wants to see me.’ Hilda gave Therese a meaningful look, which Therese understood to be an acceptance of her fate as Therese had not delivered a solution to her problems with Ethelburga.

Therese fetched the broom, pan and bucket and followed Hilda up the timber stairway to the sewing room. She thought of Sybil and being dispossessed by the Normans. Could anyone be so stoic about such a thing? She doubted it somehow. ‘Have you seen Sister Sybil?’ asked Therese.


Not for a while. What has that to do with anything? Your work will be checked and it will soon be time for prayers. You haven’t got long,’ she said as she let her in.

As the door locked behind her Therese felt trapped.

* * *

Against a darkening Dover sky Odon de Bayeux organised his guard with shouts to his horsemen and to those who would fight and travel on foot. As he expected, he heard no complaints, and when Robert de Curthose approached already mounted on his horse he explained to him, ‘I am restless. I can wait no longer. We will travel over night so we might collect the embroidery in the morning. Our enemies will not be expecting us.’


No-one would dare attack a troop such as this,’ agreed Robert. ‘You must have over a hundred men here.’

Odon was aware of Robert’s frown even though he was not looking at him. ‘You do not expect trouble from me, I hope?’ Robert asked. ‘Or Edgar?’


Of course not,’ snapped Odon. If either of these young men gave him any trouble, or any one else for that matter, he was fully capable of dealing with it.

* * *

Eleanor snatched at the clean dressings as she rolled them up. The light was going and the bell for vespers had already rung.


We must go to prayers,’ said Brother Matthew. He was clearly a little circumspect because of her temper.

She forced her anger down. She wished she could cast it out, as she was meant to, but of all the passions that she was meant to control, this one gave her the most difficulty.


I have not dared to approach you before,’ continued Matthew. ‘I have news from St Augustine’s.’

Eleanor looked up at him questioningly.


They know Abbess Eleanor is missing,’ he told her.


How?’ asked Eleanor, hardly able to maintain her “Brother James” voice.


Abbott Scotland became concerned because the servant who had been attending to her could not be found, so another was set to take her food, et cetera. She entered the Abbess’s chamber, and we can guess the rest.’

Eleanor wanted to move out of earshot of those on their sickbeds, so she went to the door, which had been left open for Matthew believed in ample fresh air. Matthew followed her. ‘Something must have happened to Ursula,’ she said.


Ursula?’ asked Brother Matthew.


It is too complicated to explain, but I must leave Christ Church Abbey now.’


No, you mustn’t. You are so close to uncovering what is going on here.’

Eleanor brushed herself down. ‘You are right. But I have had enough of all this nonsense. It will not be long before Bishop Odon is informed of my absence. I cannot imagine what problems that will cause. I am going direct to Archbishop Lanfranc and put all this before him. I will not be turned away.’


After vespers, Brother James,’ said Matthew as they spotted Brother David heading belatedly to prayers with a curious stumbling gait.

She nodded her consent. After all it would give her time to compose herself and what she would say. She closed the infirmary door behind them.

* * *

North of Canterbury the thieves took a roundabout route towards St Thomas’s. No doubt, thought Agid, to avoid so many of them having to take the ferry across the river. He spent the evening ride pulling ageing catkins off the birch trees and pinging them at Edgar’s guard beside him. This passed the time well enough while they followed and waited for Tancred and his gang to rest.

There was barely any light left and Agid was sure that they had lost them, until his stomach was stirred by the smell of a cooking pot. Moments later, off the track, the sight of a flame flickering from the fire underneath it, confirmed the gang’s presence.

Slithering close to the camp Agid glanced round at his companions. Sir Guy had been in favour of an all out attack, but Edgar still thought the advantages of them being mounted and the thieves full of food were still insufficient considering their numbers. Agid located Ursula without difficulty. She was secured to a tree away from the fire. Crouching, the Aethling crept towards her.

If the thieves saw a shadow move, they gave it no heed. Already many were snoring with the heavy sleep of the well fed and the drunk. Agid envied them and was looking longingly at the cooking pot when Ursula’s guard, who was snoring the loudest, snorted as if he were about to wake. The Aethling stayed still within an arm’s length of Ursula until the guard settled back into sleep. Having slit through her ropes with his knife, he virtually carried the weakened woman back to the place where his men kept watch.

Agid was relieved to have Ursula back and allowed his mind to return to the demise of his stomach. He viewed the fire and wondered if he could re-enter the group and feed from the pot without being discovered. But Agid spotted a glint of silver. He screwed up his eyes to try and make it out. It was a sword – a fine Norman sword. And beside it lay the bulk of Tancred. Agid shivered and pulled back behind the Aethling’s men. He knew such a man with such a sword would make short work of a man who trades in information and not muscle such as himself.

Sir Guy growled at him under his breath and he slipped further away from the small raiding party of Norman knights and Ursula. He was soon aware that they were following him with Ursula now being carried by the Aethling’s men.

Back near their own horses they laid her down. Her face was bruised and she had difficulty in opening her eyes. She looked up. The Aethling was stooped over her. Ursula reached out her hand and touched his face.

BOOK: Threads of Treason
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