A Blood Red Horse (17 page)

“Oh dear,” he said, sighing deeply. “A ring! Fancy! Well, just keep watching and report everything, I mean
everything
, to me.”

The soldier nodded and eventually saw Ranulf help Ellie write her letter to William. After that, for some weeks he was able to tell the constable no books were brought out. All that Ellie and the monk did was to sit together talking among the forget-me-nots and bluebells as spring became summer.

Ellie came to rely heavily on these conversations, but the soldier grew bored with watching. He yawned through the long days and dreamed of tournaments. Then just before harvest, he struck gold.

It was a hot afternoon, and sitting with her back to an oak tree, Ellie was plaiting daisies. Brother Ranulf was sitting
next to her, their knees almost touching. Some distance away, Margery was fast asleep, her mouth wide open. A curious thrush hopped about beside her, its head on one side.

Ellie stopped plaiting to watch the thrush. But she did not really see it. Her head was full of other things. “They will come back, won't they?” she said, turning to Brother Ranulf. She had asked the monk this question a hundred times already, but this did not stop her asking again. “I can't believe they won't,” she went on, throwing the daisies away. “I am so frightened for William, Gavin, and Sir Thomas that sometimes I can't sleep at night. Why can't the Saracens just give up their religion and become Christians? It seems so easy to me. After all, they can't want to go to hell, can they?”

Brother Ranulf tried to soothe her. “It is difficult to understand, I know,” he said. “But we have to hope and trust. And, of course, they have Hosanna with them.”

They were both quite still for a moment, their minds going to places that neither of them wanted to go. Eventually it was Ellie who whispered it.

“Horses hardly ever come back, Brother Ranulf. We both know that.” And she burst into tears at the horror of it all.

Brother Ranulf, unable to bear her misery and feeling pretty miserable himself, lost all his self-control and hugged her. It was, he said to himself as she clung to him, a one-off. He would never allow himself the luxury again, and when Ellie finally stopped crying, he gently pushed her away. These meetings would have to stop. But soon. Not quite yet.

The soldier, with his ringside view, was thrilled. The constable was right. You really couldn't trust these monks.
When he reported back, he was given a penny and told to continue his vigil, for if you were to accuse a monk, it was important to gather as much evidence as possible.

“Miss Eleanor's honor will be perfectly safe if you are there,” the constable said sanctimoniously. The soldier did not hear him say, “Got 'em!” as he left the room.

In the end it was even easier than de Scabious had dared to hope.

When the summer's sun lost its heat and the leaves began to turn, Sacramenta was startled by a deer as she cantered toward the clearing. The mare shied violently, and Ellie, who had not been paying much attention, was thrown, hitting her head on a tree root. Brother Ranulf, who was waiting for Ellie and who had steeled himself to tell her that their meetings must stop, came rushing when he heard the commotion. Terrified by the sight of the girl lying as still as a corpse, he forgot all about the danger to himself and sent Margery back to the castle for help.

“I'll stay with Ellie,” he cried. “Go on, Margery, gallop.”

The spy, secreted among the branches, remained where he was. He saw the monk pick Ellie up and carry her carefully to the blanket he had brought for them to sit on. He saw him loosen Ellie's clothing and heard him begging her to breathe. Then, the monk sat rocking her in his arms until she came round. As Ellie began to stir, Brother Ranulf bent close—very close—to hear what she was saying. He remained with his head bowed for some time.

When Margery returned, she had the constable, several knights, and a cart in tow. De Scabious said nothing to Brother Ranulf, simply lifted Ellie onto a pallet and headed straight back to Hartslove. The monk was distraught. As Ellie was carried off, he went back to the abbey and, flinging himself on to his knees in his cell,
begged God to forgive him and to restore Ellie back to full health.

For once, God did as he was asked, and Ellie, under the ministrations of Old Nurse, was declared out of danger before the week was out. Old Nurse, who asked no questions when Ellie was carried upstairs by de Scabious, would let nobody near her charge, and when Ellie was eventually fit to talk, Old Nurse at first tried to make light of the whole affair.

“I don't know what you have been doing, my girl,” she said, bustling about with an armful of linen, “but Constable de Scabious is putting it about that one of the monks took advantage of you when you were unconscious. He says your betrothal to Gavin is history. Now, I have not looked after you all these years without knowing something about you. I don't believe anything that de Scabious says. And as for all this other nonsense about the monk having a ring next to his heart and you being spotted embracing in the forest, well, it is just idle gossip with no foundation.”

Ellie, lying in bed, took some time to understand what Old Nurse was saying. Then she suddenly sat up, flung the pad off the bump on her head, and exploded. “That good-for-nothing, fat, warty woman! She was supposed just to accompany me. But she has been spying on me!”

Old Nurse stopped in her tracks, came over to Ellie's bed, and sat down heavily, her ruddy face suddenly a nasty shade of green. “Miss Ellie,” she said. “Miss Ellie. What are you saying? Tell me these rumors are not true.”

Ellie defended herself. “Of course they are not true, Old Nurse. Well, at least Brother Ranulf has got a ring. But it is from Hosanna, not from me. And what if he did hug me? He's like a brother!”

Old Nurse looked at Ellie. “But he is a brother of a different sort, Ellie. What on earth were you thinking of?”

“Oh, Old Nurse,” Ellie began to speak very fast. “I wanted to learn to read to impress Brother Andrew.”

Old Nurse looked disbelieving. She had never seen Ellie inclined to read. But apart from clicking her tongue, she said nothing and let Ellie continue.

“Brother Ranulf said he would teach me, but it would have to be in the forest because he thought Abbot Hugh would not agree. So I have been learning. I have written a letter to William,” the girl cried wildly. “And we talked sometimes about Hosanna, and once I cried and Brother Ranulf hugged me. That's all, I swear it. I swear it on my mother's grave.”

“They say he behaved inappropriately when you came off Sacramenta,” said Old Nurse, frowning now.

“I'm sure he only did what was right.”

“Can you remember?”

“No, of course I can't remember,” Eleanor was almost beside herself. “But I just know he wouldn't.”

“Others say differently,” said Old Nurse slowly. “Others say that Brother Ranulf has been looking for an excuse to be sent away from the abbey so that he can go on crusade, and that you have provided one.”

Ellie opened her mouth to deny it, then shut it again.

“Oh, Old Nurse,” she whispered. “I don't believe that.”

Old Nurse wiped her nose on her apron. “Ellie, my sweet, it does not matter much what you believe. It is what others believe that counts. Why did you not tell me, or take me with you when you went into the wood?”

“You are too fat to ride,” said Ellie dully. “And I knew you would disapprove. I was supposed to have lessons from you, remember?”

Old Nurse sighed. “Well,” she said, “we must make the best of it. I shall keep my ears open, and Ellie, please don't hide anything from me now. Come, let's get you dressed. But if I were you, I would stay up here until the whole thing blows over.”

But it did not blow over. Constable de Scabious saw to that. All through the autumn there were meetings with the abbot, and in the servants' quarters, except when Old Nurse appeared, gossip was rife. It was generally agreed that the marriage arranged between Gavin and Ellie could not, in all propriety, now take place. Gavin, if he returned, would be a holy crusader. Ellie was little better than a—well, nobody quite liked to say.

Margery, convinced that she was making herself indispensable to the constable, embellished her story with great enthusiasm. “I saw what I saw,” she said, tapping her nasal warts with a finger covered in dough as she kneaded the bread. “And I really couldn't say more. But you couldn't credit it, could you? A well-bred young girl and a monk. Innocent? Believe that and you will believe that men will one day go to the moon.”

On All Souls' Day, Brother Ranulf was publicly flogged by his fellow monks and sent to live by himself in a small hermitage outside the abbey walls. He was frantic for news about Ellie, but knew that if he asked, further opprobrium would be heaped on both their heads. His only hope was that one or more of the de Granvilles would return home, and soon. He knew they would believe him. He would swear his and Ellie's innocence on Hosanna's name.

Ellie's fate seemed rather worse. The abbot and Constable de Scabious saw her together. Standing in front of the fire in the great hall, Ellie refused to “confess” to the abbot, since, she declared, she had nothing to confess. Abbot
Hugh was inclined to try and diminish the whole affair.
If only
, he thought,
so many people did not know about it
. He felt sorry for the girl. But he also knew that an abbot trying to cover up for a monk was, in these times of reform, just not possible. Even as Ellie protested her innocence the abbot knew that the sad truth was that both Ellie and Brother Ranulf were seriously compromised in the eyes of both the neighborhood and the Church.

“Miss Eleanor,” he said at last, “I do not know what to do. Maybe you are still pure, maybe not. But as most people now think that you have been alone with a man, and a monk at that, one thing I do know is that you can no longer marry Gavin de Granville. This means you will be fair game for knights on the prowl. You have lands, my dear girl. And …,” he paused, wondering how best to say what he felt he had to say, “we hear of great losses in the east. It may be that Gavin will never return. Perhaps, in view of what has happened, the best thing would be for you to enter a nunnery. That way at least your lands will be in good hands, for the Lady Abbess will take charge of them. And, child, you could even end up an abbess yourself—a good way to make up to God for all that has happened.”

Ellie was aghast. “I don't want to be a nun,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

The abbot looked at her. “Many people do things they don't want to do,” he said gently. “Brother Ranulf is living alone in a hermitage. Do you think that is what he wanted?”

Ellie's eyes filled with tears. But she would not give in. “I don't want to be a nun,” she repeated.

“My dear, I think you have no choice.”

Constable de Scabious, standing by the wall, his face
full of mock consternation, cleared his throat. Here was his opportunity. “Maybe I could venture to offer a solution?” he asked in what he thought of as his nicest voice.

Ellie and the abbot turned to look at him. “I am Sir Thomas's right-hand man,” the constable said. “Miss Eleanor was under my protection, so it is only right that I should take responsibility. If Miss Eleanor would do me the honor,” he left a dramatic moment of silence, “I am prepared to marry her. The damage to my reputation would, of course, be significant. But her dowry lands would probably help me get over my natural reluctance to link myself to somebody with a tainted past. And, of course, if Master Gavin cannot marry her himself—which he clearly cannot—I expect he would prefer her lands to go to friend rather than foe. If you don't mind me saying so, abbot, if Miss Eleanor's lands go to the Church, they will be lost to everybody.”

Ellie almost laughed. Had the constable gone mad?

“I would rather die than marry you,” she said. “You must know that.”

The constable looked hurt. “Well, my dear,” he said. “If Sir Thomas and his sons don't come back, and you know as well as I do that they are very likely already dead, you would be marrying me anyway,” he said. “Sir Thomas left me in control here, and the deed could be done in a trice. But let's be reasonable. After you have lain in the arms of a monk, even if Gavin does return, he will certainly not want to marry you. Plenty more young girls for him to choose from. My intentions are kind. I thought I might spare you that shame and also give you an escape route from the nunnery.”

Ellie looked at the abbot, real fear in her eyes. But he offered no comfort.

“My dear, it is quite a good offer,” he said. “Constable Piers de Scabious is not a bad man, and nobody will dare impugn your reputation once you are betrothed to him.”

“I can't,” said Ellie, her voice rising. How, oh how, had her reading and writing lessons come to this? She began to edge out of the room.

The last thing she heard as she reached the door was the constable. “I don't think, Miss Eleanor, that you have much choice,” he was saying, and his smile was triumphant. Even before he had finished, Ellie had fled upstairs and barred her door.

Except with Gavin, forage duty was never popular. But since the king had taken his turn—and had very nearly been captured by Saladin's troops when, after six hours in the boiling sun, he had dismounted and sat underneath a shady tamarisk bush for a rest—the knights had no excuse not to volunteer. They had left the orchards of Jaffa behind them and were now camped between Lydda and Ramle, marching through inhospitable territory. Richard had not yet found a way of telling anybody that Jerusalem was an impossible target, and so it was still toward this goal that the Christian forces were making their way.