Wolf Wood (Part One): The Gathering Storm (12 page)

He raised his
tankard and a confused babble followed as the guard tried to repeat
what he had just said.

Sir Hugh
showed him how it should be done

'To Duke
Humphrey!'

'Humph! Humph!
Humph!'

The guard
banged their tankards on the table and shouted the duke's name,
linking it with the Earl of Huntingdon. The din continued unabated.
It was what Harald hated about dining at home. No one seemed able
to do anything without making a huge amount of noise. John Baret
evidently shared his disquiet but Sir Hugh was in his element. He
rose and proposed another toast when the hubbub died down.

'To Henry
Beaufort!'

'Henry
Bigfart!'

The guard blew
raspberries and downed their wine.

Other toasts
and insults followed. The Duke of York and John Talbot were hailed
as heroes. The Earl of Suffolk was derided as a traitor together
with the entire Beaufort clan. Harald watched as huge hunks of
flesh were hacked from bone and stuffed into gaping mouths. Greasy
fingers were wiped on bread and clothing. He yearned for the linen
napkins and finger bowls that graced John Baret's table.

Sir Hugh
turned to him with a mouth full of meat.

'The chaplain
tells me you've got informants.'

Harald leant
past his mother and tried to conduct a conversation.

'I have
friends who have provided valuable information.'

'You mean
you're not paying for it?'

'No. I believe
that to be detrimental to the cause of justice.'

The
proposition seemed novel to Sir Hugh.

'What have
they told you?'

'Roger Knowles
is bribing people to say that Judith was unfaithful.'

'Do you know
who they are?'

'Yes.'

'How would you
categorise them?'

'Some are easy
to refute. Others are not.'

'Tell me about
them.'

'Henry Knowles
is easy to refute and so is Jane Etheridge.'

'Where's the
weakness?'

'One was too
young and the other was in France.

'Can you prove
that?'

'Yes.'

Nothing he'd
been taught at Oxford had prepared Harald for such an
interrogation. Hugh Orpington rattled out the questions and the
chaplain took notes. Both were awash with wine and slurred their
words. Yet, when they'd finished, he had divulged everything he
knew about Roger Knowles and the case he had against him.

***

Sir Hugh led
them into Dorchester. He was dressed in a gown trimmed with white
fur and mounted on a white horse. Harald's mother followed in a
carriage with three other ladies. Harald rode behind with the rest
of the party, including William. Heavily armed outriders guarded
their flanks. Men in mail marched at their rear. His mother had
insisted that William be present in court. That had added to
Harald's embarrassment. His son knew where babies came from and was
exhibiting an unhealthy interest in girls. William reminded him of
Guy at the same age. People stopped and pointed as they rode
past.

The case had
sparked public interest and it wasn't difficult to imagine why.
Disputes over wills and boundaries were two-a-penny. Sex sometimes
reared its ugly head but rarely in such an intriguing manner.
Harald took his seeing glasses from their pouch and held them to
his eyes. His vision wasn't perfect but he could see enough of the
courthouse to know that Roger Knowles was already there. His escort
was larger than before but looked no fitter than those who had
fared so badly against Robin.

They entered
the court and went to the benches reserved for the plaintiffs. Eyes
bore into the back of Harald's head. He couldn't hear but knew what
people were saying.

That's him …
he's the one who had his little brother do it for him.

On the other
side of the court, Roger Knowles was wrapped in conversation with
his advocate. Every few moments they stole a glance at Sir
Hugh.

A clerk
entered the chamber and called for order.

'This Court of
Sessions, in the County of Dorset, in the fifteenth year of the
reign of Our Sovereign Lord Henry, sixth of that name since the
Conquest, is now declared open. Pray rise.'

Those who were
not standing got to their feet. The doors at the rear swung open
and a procession entered. Harald recognised the shire reeve. He was
the king's chief executive in Dorset and a man of considerable
power and influence. The others were not so well known to him.

'
Pray be seated'

The
proceedings commenced. Sir Hugh opened with the case for the
plaintiffs. He argued that Roger Knowles had acted illegally and
with criminal intent in extracting rent from tenants on the
Gascoigne estate. Harald couldn't fault him. Sir Hugh held the jury
entranced as he spelt out the agony of a young boy robbed of his
birthright and a father accused of denying his young wife the
tender embrace of true matrimony.

The counsel
for the defence rose and immediately went on the attack. He cast
doubts on Harald's manhood and sought permission to call witnesses.
Henry Knowles was the first to take the stand. He described a
frolic in the barn with Harald's wife, Judith. They allegedly made
love against a pile of hay while she divulged the secrets of her
unhappy marriage.

Sir Hugh
swooped like a hawk on its pray.

'How old were
you, Master Knowles?'

Henry looked
perplexed.

'When you
endowed Mistress Gascoigne with your irrepressible charms … how old
were you?'

Henry shuffled
his feet.

'You were
six-years-old, Master Knowles. Are you going to tax the credulity
of the honourable members of the jury by claiming that a shrimp
could make love to a whale?'

There was
laughter in court. People settled down like spectators at a
mummers' play, waiting to see what would happen next.

The counsel
for the defence jumped up. 'Show proof.'

Sir Hugh
opened his document case and produced a slip of paper that was
handed to a clerk who conveyed it to the presiding judge.

'Here, my
lord, is our proof.'

The judge gave
the document a cursory glance and accepted it as genuine.

Harald had
been prepared to argue the point but that had not been necessary.
He guessed that Hugh had prepared the ground beforehand and
wondered if he'd bribed all the justices on the bench.

Jane Etheridge
was the next to appear. The smartly dressed woman dissolved in
tears when Sir Hugh produced letters to prove she was in France
when her alleged conversation with Judith took place. Harald waited
for further witnesses to come forward. Alice's cousin, Catherine,
would be difficult to refute. But Catherine did not appear. Nor did
any of the other witnesses.

The council
for the defence pointed an accusing finger.

'Sir Harald
Gascoigne has with threats of violence prevented true testimony to
the veracity of our case, my lord.'

The judge
peered at Harald. 'Do you refute this accusation?'

'I do, my
lord,' Harald replied truthfully. 'I have never used violence nor
threatened it against anyone.'

'You are well
known as a man who eschews such practices?'

'I believe
that to be the case, my lord.'

'I accept your
rebuttal.'

Harald
expected Roger Knowles to argue the point. Instead, he read from a
letter, saying it had been written by Harald's mother.

'
Madam, I would have you know that I
am right worried and offended by the conduct of your daughter
Judith who, although married to our son Harald, is displaying
unwholesome tendencies towards certain male members of our
household while our son is engaged in his studies at Oxford. I
would caution and beseech you, Madam, to give mind to the terms of
the contract negotiated between our two
families.
'

Sir Hugh
turned to address the bench.

'I beg leave
to inspect the document, my lord.'

The letter was
handed to the clerk of the court and placed before Sir Hugh who
gave it a cursory glance.

'This document
neither bears the Gascoigne seal nor Lady Gascoigne's signature. I
seek to have it dismissed as a forgery, my lord.'

Roger Knowles
jumped to his feet. 'The seal fell off and Margery Gascoigne never
learnt to write. Her sign is a wolf beneath a tree, like you see
there.'

'My lord.' Sir
Hugh grasped the edges of his gown. 'I seek leave to have pen and
paper brought forward so that Lady Gascoigne may refute this
preposterous claim.'

Writing
materials were produced and Harald watched his mother write her
name, forming each letter individually. She finished and handed the
paper to the clerk who conveyed it to the judge. Harald hoped her
writing skills would not be put to further test.

'You appear to
be wrong again, Sir Roger.' The judge looked up. 'Is there any
further evidence you wish to bring before I submit this case to the
jury's consideration?'

'My lord.' The
counsel for the defence held up a bundle of papers. 'I have here
numerous examples of correspondence between Lady Gascoigne and
members of my client's family. They were written by her chaplain,
Sir Peter de Trent, and demonstrate beyond doubt that Lady
Gascoigne frequently used the sign of the wolf when corresponding
with individuals.'

'My lord.' Sir
Hugh rose. 'Sir Peter is here in court. I beg permission to have
these papers submitted for his inspection.'

The papers
were taken to the chaplain and he declared them to be
forgeries.

'Are you
prepared to repeat that on oath?'

'Most
certainly.' Peter reached for his bible.

'Not that
one!' Roger Knowles shouted across the chamber. 'Use a proper bible
like everyone else.'

A clerk
produced another bible and the court fell silent. Perjury was a
serious matter, particularly for a man of God. Peter placed his
hand on the book and faced the jury. For a moment he seemed to
falter. Then he raised his head and spoke in a clear voice.

'I, Peter de
Trent, do hereby solemnly swear that these letters were not written
by me and I accordingly believe them to be forgeries.'

An excited
buzz swept through the chamber. With Peter's sworn testimony, the
case was effectively over and the Gascoignes had won. Harald could
find no comfort in that. The victory had come at an appalling
price. Hugh had corrupted the court and Peter had perjured himself.
He would find a confessor and pay a hefty penance for his sins. The
money would end up in the church's coffers and Harald would
compensate Peter for the loss. There were occasions when he
sympathised with the Lollards.

Gathering Storm

Richard Vowell
listened to the sound of saws and hammers. It was early for the
builders to start work and he wondered what was going on. He
glanced at the vicar but he continued to recite the matins service
as he had done thousands of times before. The service ended and
Richard headed for the door leading into the abbey nave. Lanterns
burnt at the far end. They reminded him of the time the masons came
to remove the font. On that occasion, Billy Bradford and Bobby
Hulle were there. This time it was the sacrist and a foreman. He
strode up to them.

'What's going
on?'

'Good Morrow,
Master Vowell.' The sacrist did his best to sound friendly. 'We are
here to erect a partition. Being cognisant of the inconvenience
occasioned by the current building activities we have given thought
to how a suitable screen might be provided for the comfort of the
parish.'

Richard
surveyed the building materials.

'What's all
them hurdles for?'

'They're for
the partition.'

'You mean for
scaffolding?'

'No. They are
for the partition.'

'Say that
again.' Richard cupped a hand to his ear. 'I don't think I heard
you right.'

'The hurdles
will be strapped to the existing scaffolding.'

'You're
joking.'

'No … it's all
been agreed.'

Richard peered
at the expanse of posts and crossbeams.

'What do you
think we are … sodding sheep?'

'The hurdles
will be covered in cloth,' Master Vowell.'

'What sort of
cloth?'

'There's some
over there.'

Richard walked
to a pile of dirty canvas.

'That awful
stuff. It's been used to cover damp mortar. It was at sea for ten
years before it was chucked out.' He wagged a finger at the
sacrist. 'The bishop will hear of this. Master Rochell is a
churchwarden. He talks to the dean. He'll make sure Robert Neville
knows what you sods are up to.'

***

Alice heard
banging at her door and put down her pen. She was used to sudden
interruptions. Accidents on the road, fights, falls on building
sites. People were being injured all the time and they were brought
to her for treatment. She went to the door and found the sacrist
and a friar. They were accompanied by Bailiff Gallor and a beadle.
Earlier in the day she had treated a man for a knife wound. She
suspected he was an outlaw.

'I applied a
suture and he left.'

'What you
talking about, woman?'

'The man who
had been in a fight. I treated his wound. It is my duty to provide
care for the injured and not ask questions.'

'We're not
interested in that.' Walter displayed a mouth of rotting teeth.
'We're here to search this place.'

He pushed past
her and the sacrist followed.

'Brother.'
Alice reached out a pleading hand to the monk. 'Tell me what is
happening.'

'We are here
at the father abbot's command, Sister.' The sacrist looked
embarrassed. 'We are instructed to inquire into accusations
concerning rites and rituals forbidden by the holy fathers and
repugnant to …'