Hugh Corbett 11 - The Demon Archer (19 page)

‘Love is a terrible thing,’ Corbett remarked. ‘A two-edged sword! It turns, it cuts and there is no cure.’

Ranulf, lying on his bed, just smiled but didn’t answer. He heard his master settle for the night but his mind was back in that moon-washed garden and his heart fair skipped for joy. He had expected Alicia to laugh at him but she had not! She had explained how her own maid was in the room above and would have been very flattered to hear the poem.

‘I always go out at night,’ she had said, then pointed into the darkness. ‘There’s a brook. My father and I always visit it when the evenings are warm. I listen to the sounds of the night. I’m glad I went there.’ She drew closer and gripped his wrist. ‘I’m used to lust, Ranulf-atte-Newgate, to bold stares and saucy quips. But a poem! Read quietly in the moonlight! You are indeed a strange one. I had you wrong.’ And, standing on tiptoe, she had kissed him gently on the cheek, plucked the poem from his hand and walked quietly away.

 

‘As you are, so once were we! As we are, so shall ye be.’

Corbett read the inscriptions around the Doom above the dark wooden church of St Oswald’s-in-the-Trees.

‘In the end,’ he commented to Ranulf, pushing open the door, ‘all of us will be as God wants us.’

He paused inside the porch. The little church was built entirely of wood: the builder had ingeniously used a row of oaks as pillars for the roof and on either side of the nave were darkened transepts with small, square windows providing light. The roof itself looked like that of a barn, great timbers running across. The rood screen at the top looked ancient; some of the carvings, St John and other saints clustered around the crucified Christ, were battered and worn. Corbett went through the rood-screen door and into the sanctuary. A man sat there dressed in a Franciscan robe. In the alcove behind was a small, thin mattress, blankets neatly piled on top of the bolster; the remains of a meal on a trauncher lay on the floor.

‘Robert Verlian?’ Corbett asked.

He studied the thin-haired chief verderer. Verlian nodded and got to his feet, wincing at the pain and rubbing his right knee.

‘In my flight,’ he explained, ‘I must have injured it.’

He hobbled forward, hand outstretched. Corbett grasped it. The verderer was of medium height, his face, roughened by the wind and sun, was lined and seamed, the eyes bloodshot with fatigue and worry. He was clean-shaven but had cut himself a number of times.

‘I apologise for my appearance,’ he explained. ‘But I am now prisoner of this place, dependent on the generosity of Brother Cosmas.’

‘We met your daughter Alicia.’ Ranulf, smiling from ear to ear, stepped forward.

‘Yes, I know. You must be Sir Hugh Corbett, King’s emissary, and his clerk Ranulf-atte-Newgate. My daughter visits me but Brother Cosmas urged her not to bring a change of clothing or food and wine.’ He glimpsed the puzzlement in Ranulf’s face.

‘The law of sanctuary,’ Corbett explained. ‘If it is to be maintained no one is to bring clothing, food or drink or provide any other sustenance.’

‘But you are safe now,’ Ranulf insisted. ‘We hold the King’s writ. There is no proof of murder and you are not guilty of any other crime.’

Verlian shrugged. ‘I dare not leave this church, not now. Sir William’s hand is turned against me. I’d best stay here until this matter is settled once and for all.’

‘I would agree with that.’

Corbett turned round. Brother Cosmas had come out of the side door leading to the sacristy. He sketched a blessing in their direction.

‘I received Sir William’s assurances, but I heard what you said, Robert, and I agree. Stay here until this matter is finished.’

‘What do you mean?’ Corbett asked.

‘Ashdown can be a lonely place.’

The priest came across the sanctuary, his sandals slapping the floor. He took a tinder and lit the two candles on the altar.

‘Robert Verlian is an innocent man. I don’t want some accident happening to him. He’s claimed sanctuary. Let him stay. He’s safer here than elsewhere. Don’t you agree, Robert?’

The verderer rubbed his chin.

‘You have the sanctuary,’ the priest continued reassuringly. ‘And at night you may use my house. What more could you ask?’

‘But, if you are innocent,’ Ranulf asked, ‘why not go out and face your accusers?’

Verlian sat down on a bench and cupped his face in his hands. For a while he just sat then he looked up.

‘The morning Lord Henry died I went back to my house to make sure that Alicia was safe. I came back to join the hunt. I saw nothing untoward. However, when I reached Savernake Dell, Lord Henry was dead, an arrow deep in his heart.’

‘How did you come?’ Corbett asked.

‘I was hurrying from my house,’ Verlian explained. ‘Ahead of me I could hear the hunters and their hounds, the crashing of deer as they bolted through the thicket towards the dell.’

‘Which side did you approach? The side on which Lord Henry was standing or the other?’

Verlian closed his eyes. ‘I came from behind,’ he said. ‘Following the same path as the huntsmen.’

‘So, you were at the entrance to the dell?’

‘Yes, I stopped there. I could see something had happened. Figures clustered around a fallen man. Someone shouted Lord Henry had been killed.’

‘But why didn’t you hurry across?’

‘I don’t know!’ Verlian glanced up, eyes blinking. ‘I really don’t know. I was frightened. One thought occurred to me. Everybody is where they are supposed to be, except me.’

‘Sir William wasn’t,’ Corbett said. ‘He had gone into the woods to ease his bowels.’

‘I didn’t know that.’ Verlian shook his head. ‘You must remember, Sir Hugh, I was all agitated. I was Lord Henry’s chief verderer. I was also father of the young woman who was the object of his lust and lechery. I am not a man skilled in law. Even as I turned to run, I could think of what my accusers would say. When Lord Henry was killed, Verlian wasn’t where he was supposed to be! Verlian is a master bowman! Verlian knows the forests like the palm of his hand and, above all, Verlian had the motive, good enough reason to slay his lord!’

Corbett took a stool from just inside the rood screen and sat down next to the verderer.

‘Master Verlian, I came here early this morning because I wanted to question you before others arrived who might eavesdrop, take what you say and do mischief with it.’ He saw the wary look in Verlian’s eyes.

‘What . . . what do you mean?’ he stammered.

‘I can understand your panic and fear.’ Corbett tried to sound reassuring. ‘But there are gaps in your story, aren’t there? You see, Master Robert, I don’t know the times, who was where when the hunt began. Your task was to lead the huntsmen and drive the deer into Savernake Dell, yes?’

Verlian nodded.

‘But you didn’t do that. We know from Alicia that you went home to ensure Lord Henry hadn’t left the hunt and visited her. You left Beauclerc hunting lodge early, went to the stables and ensured the verderers, huntsmen and whippers-in had all the preparations in hand. You probably visited the deer trap in Savernake Dell, built for the quarry to be driven in. After all, Lord Henry would not wish to disappoint his guests. Now we know,’ Corbett continued, ‘the hunt went wrong. You were not present. The huntsmen drove the quarry too fast and, by the time they reached Savernake Dell, two deer were running like the wind! So fast the archers missed them and the deer jumped the fence cunningly built to trap them.’

‘What are you implying?’ Verlian nervously touched one of the cuts on his cheek.

‘Oh, I’ll come to that in a moment. I believe you are innocent, Master Verlian. What I am trying to say is that you were gone from the hunt far too long. You planned to leave it for a short while then come hurrying back. But something delayed you.’ Corbett paused.

He glanced up at Brother Cosmas standing beside him. The friar was looking sternly at the chief verderer.

‘Have you lied to me, Robert?’ he demanded. ‘Is there something you haven’t told me?’

‘Tell me.’ Corbett tapped the verderer on the knee. ‘When you fled did you go back home?’

‘Well, no I wouldn’t.’ Verlian forced a smile. ‘I . . . I mean . . .’

‘You were frightened of Lord Henry’s retainers capturing you?’

‘Yes, yes, that was it.’

‘No, it wasn’t,’ Corbett retorted. ‘It would take some time for the news of their lord’s death to reach the manor. You didn’t go back home to Alicia because Alicia wasn’t there, was she?’ Corbett ignored Ranulf’s quick intake of breath. ‘You left the hunting lodge early that morning,’ Corbett continued, ‘and hurried back to your house. You expected to find Alicia there but she wasn’t. You cast about, anxious, wondering where she had gone. After all, that was the day of the hunt. The last place Alicia should be was wandering the forest.

‘By the time you returned, the hunters and verderers were too far ahead of you and, because they lacked your skill, your discipline, the deer were driven too fast into Savernake Dell. When you reached the dell you realised something terrible had happened. You knew you could be accused, as indeed, Sir William did, so you fled.’ Corbett paused. ‘Not home, because you knew Alicia wasn’t there and what was the use of putting yourself in danger? So you fled into the forest, didn’t you?’

‘You are in God’s house,’ Brother Cosmas’ harsh voice commanded. ‘And in his sanctuary.’ He pointed to the silver pyx. ‘Beneath the appearance of bread, the Lord Jesus dwells among us. I have given you sanctuary, taken you as a guest.’ His voice became softer. ‘Not because of the law of the church, Robert, but because I believe you. Where was Alicia?’

Ranulf was now walking up and down like a man taken by shock.

‘Where was your daughter? Had she taken a horse?’

Verlian just blinked. He was now staring at Ranulf.

‘Had she taken a bow and arrow?’ Corbett added. ‘Alicia is the daughter of the verderer. She can draw and loose. Hadn’t she once threatened Lord Henry with that?’

Verlian opened his mouth to reply.

‘Don’t lie,’ Corbett warned him. ‘If you lie, Robert, I cannot help you or your daughter. So, don’t say you didn’t know where she was. Alicia has visited you here. You must have asked her and she must have told you.’

‘Tell them, Father!’

Alicia, shrouded in a brown cloak, stood at the entrance in the rood screen; in her hand she carried a linen bundle tied with a piece of string. She pulled back her hood and glanced quickly at Ranulf, who blushed and looked away.

‘I’ve brought you some oatmeal cakes, Father.’ She thrust these into the Franciscan’s hand. ‘You can share them with whoever you wish.’ She went and crouched beside her father, put a protective arm round his shoulders and stared defiantly at Corbett. ‘You are a dangerous man, Sir Hugh. You know they are talking about you at the Devil-in-the-Woods. How you sit and brood like a cat.’

Corbett smiled. ‘In which case, mistress, you have nothing to fear from me. I am the King’s cat. I only hunt those who disturb his barns.’

‘My father is frightened. He’s a verderer, Sir Hugh, and a good one.’ She gently stroked her father’s hair. ‘He’s used to the forest. The people who live there; the animals, their tracks, their secret pathways. And then, in what must have been the twinkling of an eye, his lord turns to lechery and that lord is killed.’

Verlian raised his head, his cheeks soaked in tears.

‘What could I do?’ he pleaded. ‘If I was turned out where could I go? I was born in these parts, sir! Ashdown is my world, my life.’

‘And you know that, master clerk, don’t you?’ Alicia demanded. ‘You are a cat, you sit and you think.’

‘So, you’ve visited the Devil-in-the-Woods tavern again?’ Corbett asked.

‘I did this morning.’ Alicia didn’t look at Ranulf. ‘I wanted to see someone but he’d already left. One of the pot boys, however, said that he woke long before dawn. It’s his job to kindle the fire. You, Sir Hugh, were already in the taproom, wrapped in a cloak, contemplating the white ash in the grate as if you had been there all night.’

‘I need little sleep.’ Corbett held her gaze. ‘I came down and read some letters. I studied a Book of Hours but I could make little sense of it. I sat and brooded about Lord Henry’s death and your father, whom I now wish to question. I wondered why the hunt had gone wrong? Why he took so long to return? Why he didn’t flee back to your house?’

‘And what else did you think?’

‘I will tell you that, mistress, when you tell me where you were.’

‘There’s a cemetery behind this church. My mother lies buried there. It’s the one place in this forest I felt safe from Lord Henry and his henchmen. I took a horse, a small palfrey, and I rode there. I collected some wild flowers, left the horse at the lych-gate and put the flowers on my mother’s grave. I sat and talked to her for a while.’ Alicia ignored her father’s muted sobs.

‘And afterwards?’

‘I left the cemetery and rode back to our house but I did so slowly. I wondered what Father and I should do for the future. By the time I reached Ashdown, isn’t it strange, master clerk, the future had been decided for me. Lord Henry was dead and my father was in flight.’

‘And do you often take a bow and a quiver of arrows to your mother’s grave?’

Alicia’s face suffused with rage.

‘Yes!’ she hissed through clenched teeth. ‘And I tell you this, clerk, if I had met Lord Henry on the way, I would have put an arrow in his heart!’ Her eyes glittered with hatred. ‘But God disposes and someone else did that!’