Threads of Treason (23 page)

‘
Of course,’ said Therese.

‘
I think you’d fit through that hole, though you’re tall there’s nothing to you. The quicker we get those panels out of here the better.’

‘
Did you know about the secret room before Eric told you?’ asked Therese.

‘
Yes, and so did Prioress Ursula. The rest don’t know. Now up you go.’ Agnes offered Therese a leg up with her hands clenched together to make a stirrup for her foot.

Inside she found that Eric had pulled down the coverings from the window for some light, but the night afforded little. She went down the steep steps from the timber gallery by the hole and went over to the window and looked out. Surely a better plan would be to drop them directly out of the window? But when she looked out the wind caught at her head covering and she could hear sheep sheltering below. If the panels were not blown away and ripped to pieces in the trees, they would land in filth and be trampled upon.

‘
Hurry,’ said Eric.

‘
We will be quicker if we can see what we are doing. I think I can see a taper in the holder by the sewing room door. I’ll light it from Sister Agnes’s one.’

‘
I can manage in the dark,’ Eric muttered.

‘
Well, I can’t,’ said Therese. But she was proved right as she carefully rolled each panel and carried them individually up the steps with the help of this tiny wavering light on the wall. At the top she handed the rolls to Eric who passed them out through the hole to Agnes. Even if Eric and Sister Agnes were Anglo-Saxons plotting against the Normans she could not secure all these panels without help. And hopefully Sir Gilbert would have raised the alarm by now and others would soon be coming to her aid.

The horsemen drew up in front of Odon, Robert, Edgar’s guard and the others lined up as if ready to go into battle.

‘
It’s the Aethling,’ confirmed Sir Guy, ‘and Sir Alun.’ He kicked his horse forward out of line. One of Odon’s guards went to draw him back, but Odon waved him away. ‘If you don’t believe me then you might believe them,’ added Sir Guy.

Edgar Aethling introduced himself in his usual courteous manner.

‘
What are you doing in these parts?’ asked Odon.

‘
Has not my man told you?’ asked Edgar.

‘
I want to hear it from you.’ Edgar’s explanation seemed quite unbelievable, especially the part about Prioress Ursula being alive. But it did coincide identically with what he’d heard from the Aethling’s guard. ‘There’s just one thing that I doubt.’

‘
And what is that?’ asked Edgar.

‘
You have arrived from the south. According to your man the thieves you were watching are to the north of here.’

‘
I skirted around your group, Your Grace. I wanted to make sure you were who I thought you were before I made my approach. The darkness tonight is all embracing.’

‘
These thieves sound as if they require a small Norman lesson. But if this is a trap, Aethling, I will kill you first for you shall ride beside me.’

‘
You have no need to distrust Edgar or me,’ objected Robert.

‘
Better still, as you two are so friendly towards each other, I will keep you here, Robert, with a small guard as a hostage.’

‘
That will not be necessary,’ insisted Edgar.

‘
You told me you were on your way to Scotland to see your sister, but it has reached my ears that you have not come directly to Kent but have been through Salisbury and visited Winchester.’

‘
You know my other sister, Christina, is at a convent in that area, Your Grace. You cannot be suspicious about my activities?’

‘
Robert will stay here,’ said Odon nodding at the horseman he’d set to guard the King’s eldest son.

Edgar felt his horse shift its weight from front to back as it took great galloping strides towards the thieves’ camp. He leapt ditches and fallen tree trunks. Odon’s horse matched his stride for stride and the others followed. Edgar took them into the camp through the widest entrance to the clearing – their swords drawn. Odon’s plan was to raid the site while the thieves slept and could offer little resistance. But they weren’t there. Edgar had left them sleeping. They must have finally realised Prioress Ursula was gone and moved off. Perhaps they like him had become aware of the approach of Odon’s men and they’d decided to melt away.

‘
This had better not be a trap!’ declared Odon swinging his sword close to Edgar’s head. He sent his men around the scrub and nearby woodland to check for the thieves. They came back with nothing.

‘
They must have got wind of your presence, Your Grace.’

‘
You, Edgar Aethling, will remain with me until you leave for Scotland. We will return to Robert directly.’

Edgar was immediately surrounded by Odon’s men and escorted from the campsite.

As Odon approached the small retinue he’d left with Robert he became concerned. On the ferry road more horsemen were approaching.

‘
Is this your doing?’ he asked Edgar. ‘Did you intend to split my men and weaken me in that way?’

‘
Your Grace, the group approaching is small. Barely more than were with me.’

Odon still wasn’t sure how many men Edgar really had with him. He only knew of two – Sir Guy and Sir Alun, but what of these, so called, thieves? He felt now that he was acting not as Bishop Odon de Bayeux, but he was back in his role of Earl of Kent. Normandy seemed a long way away. He sighed. Then he saw who was approaching. His blood chilled. ‘My God. It’s Rufus.’

Odon’s rejoined group bristled around him. On this subject they were all agreed: this man was unsuitable to rule England, and his presence meant trouble whichever way you looked at it. Odon moved forward out of the line of his men, Edgar with his two men and Robert de Curthose. ‘Halt!’ he demanded of the four horsemen.

They obliged by stopping, but instantly drew their swords. ‘Who prevents the passage of Prince William, Son of the Conqueror?’ asked the largest one of them flanking the Prince.

‘
Odon de Bayeux, Earl of Kent, Prince William,’ replied Odon with clipped courtesy, ignoring Sir Roger. ‘What business brings you to these parts at this hour?’

‘
Roger, Simon, Ralph, stay your swords a moment. You may act as king in my father’s absence, but all this will be mine one day, and there will be no place in the set up for you.’ There was no mistaking the Prince’s flaring temper.

Odon detected a movement by Robert’s horse. His man had restrained him. Odon could not afford to let these brothers fight, for they would tear each other apart.

‘
I ask you with great fealty, as an uncle, not to be interested in my activities, but I as the King’s son am interested in yours. You who have treacherous friends. What are you doing here?’ Odon watched Rufus scrutinise the line up before him. And Rufus added, ‘With all these mighty people?’

Robert surged forward and rushed at his brother. Their swords clashed as they urged their horses to push each other.

Odon shouted, ‘Order. This is mere quarrelling. Brothers should not fight before their men like this.’ But they did not part and Roger, Simon and Ralph started to fight Robert off, so Edgar joined the fight, followed by Sir Alun and Sir Guy. Odon pulled his own men back. He did not want their loyalties to be tested. These two groups of men were evenly enough matched. Perhaps, once they tired he might be able to break up the fight before any real harm was done.

Chapter 22

There was just one panel of embroidery left in the secret room. Therese told Eric to leave, she could manage, thank you. He tried to persuade her otherwise, but she had him through the hole and into the tower with Agnes, before he had a chance to think of a way to prevent it. Agnes grasped him firmly by the shoulders.

‘
Get the embroidery as far away from the building as you can,’ instructed Therese.

‘
We will take it over the kitchen yard wall,’ said Agnes. ‘Don’t be long. We will wait for you there.’

‘
Don’t wait. Go!’ ordered Therese. She went directly back to the last panel and started to roll it up when she thought she heard a noise in the next room. It was the scrape of wood upon wood. Someone was in the sewing room moving the carved screen from the door to the secret room. In a moment whoever it was would be in here with Therese. She stood in front of the last panel as the door swung open.

Therese stared at the silhouette of a nun until her eyes adjusted to the unexpected light. Gertrude, Maude and Mabel had left the Priory and she doubted they would return. The figure was too slim for Aelfgyth or Beatrice, and not tall enough for Winifred. It could not be Agnes, she would not have had time to unravel herself from Eric and the embroidery. She hoped dearly it was not Leofgyth. Kind, funny Leofgyth.

The sewing room was lit with church candles and tapers. Therese found the flames and the brightness horrifying.

‘
Sybil?’ she called gently. The silhouette moved a pace towards her and stopped. ‘Let your hate for the Normans go. This tapestry is too beautiful to destroy. It goes beyond our differences. It tells the world of our skills and our determination. The story it tells on the face of it is not our story. We know that.’

‘
I thought it was you in here,’ said a voice she could not mistake. It was Hilda's sweet voice hardened and piercing like the point of a needle.

Therese was completely taken aback; she’d expected to see Sister Sybil. ‘So you lied about Prioress Ethelburga,’ she said.

‘
No, She did as I said. But her only need was power.’

‘
So it was you who stole the key from Prioress Ursula?

‘
If only I’d been quicker, I would have finished the job of inking the panel that our little Impostor failed to do, but Ethelburga saw me, and organised her little power struggle.’

‘
And this room?’

‘
I’m not stupid. You worked it out. Well, so did I.’

‘
When did you work it out?’

‘
Only recently. I watched you clean the sewing room remember. You took an unnatural amount of care in doing so, and you could not keep your eyes off that screen. I’ve come for the rest of the embroidery I’m sure this is where it’s been stored.’

‘
You’re too late. It’s gone.’

‘
What do you mean?’ asked Hilda rushing forward to look behind Therese.

Therese moved to grab it. As she did so the single panel was exposed to Hilda’s gaze.

‘
You thief!’ The words almost exploded out of Hilda’s mouth. In one movement she turned and seized the taper from its fixing by the door.

In the mean time Therese had picked up the partly rolled panel and was making towards the steps to the gallery that led to the hole in the tower wall. Hilda was after her. Therese wrestled with the fabric which seemed intent on unravelling itself the more she tried to tuck it up. Hilda was close – too close. The skilled needlewoman seemed intent on destroying her own work. Therese pointed this out, breathless with fear and the task of shifting the panel.

‘
I don’t care. And you needn’t give me any of that, ‘I’m an Anglo-Saxon’ stuff. You know too much and this will tidy things up nicely.’

‘
But your family has not been dispossessed like Sister Sybil’s,’ reasoned Therese.

‘
My father died at Hastings. My mother had to marry a Norman so my family could retain their lands. My brother as a land owner himself had to swear fealty to our Norman conqueror. I can hardly swallow with the disgust I feel.’

Therese had reached the top of the gallery steps when Hilda lunged at the embroidery with the taper. The only way she could stop her was by dropping the panel. She did so, but was too late. The corner was burning. At the same time she felt her legs taken away from under her by Hilda wrapping her arms about them. She thumped down onto the gallery, winded. She blinked. She could feel heat about her ankles. Hilda had set light to the hem of her habit as well. In her eye line there was a row of pots along the back edge of the gallery wall. She recognised them. Getting up Therese pushed Hilda down the steps. There was a crack of skull hitting floor at the bottom and the needle-woman lay still. Therese ran over to the first pot and quenched the flames on her skirt with Eric’s urine. The second pot once contained his food, but he’d clearly had the need to fill that too. This pot went over the burning edge of the panel.

The taper was still clutched in Hilda’s hand and its idle flame singed the floorboards. But Therese had to secure the embroidery first so she ran with the panel and dispatched it through the hole. Back next to the unconscious Hilda she trod out the taper’s flame. Hilda’s hand moved and grabbed her ankle. Therese felt herself being pulled down again as Hilda, her face shaking with anger regained her feet. Briefly everything went black for Therese.