The Winter King (19 page)

Nicholas Fitzwalter drew himself up to his full and considerable height. He stared down at Josse as if contemplating some lower form of life. ‘I say again, sir, you are mistaken.’ A spasm of some strong emotion briefly crossed the patrician face. ‘What on earth,’ he added, sounding as if the very prospect disgusted him, ‘would I want with some filthy, deranged old village crone?’

Josse’s anger rose. ‘You want to use her! To parade her like you did that silly young Benedictine, and make her say the things you haven’t the balls to say for yourself!’

Fitzwalter went quite white. Then, in a tone of icy politeness, he said, ‘I think, Sir Josse, you had better leave.’ With a curt nod to the guard, lurking a few paces away, he spun round and strode off in the direction of the bailey mound.

The guard, who had evidently heard the final part of the exchange, clearly decided that the abrupt dismissal put Josse too far down the social order for the likes of him to deal with. He summoned the stable boy and said, ‘Take this here knight to the outer guardhouse, where you’ll find his horse.’ Then, in fine imitation of his master, he too curled his lips into a sneer and strode away.

Josse was furious with himself
. I should not have let myself be affected by him
,
he raged silently as he strode along behind the stable lad.
I have antagonized him, and now he knows I am no friend, nor a supporter of his faction’s cause
.

He realized, in that instant, that he would never put his weight behind a party that wanted to control an anointed king. Whatever sort of a monarch he might be. That way lay anarchy.

The stable boy led him back to the tunnel-like passage through the gatehouse and, on the far side of the bridge over the moat, to a lowly building – a sort of outer guard house – where there was stabling. There Alfred waited; the horse, Josse noted with approval, had been provided with water.

He untied the reins and led Alfred outside. He was about to mount when the lad caught his sleeve and, still holding on, led Josse a short distance down the track that wound away from the castle. When they were out of sight of anyone in the castle or the outer guard house, the lad said softly, ‘Got any coins on you, sir knight?’

Josse’s hand went to the leather purse at his waist. ‘Why?’ he demanded. Was he expected to pay for Alfred’s brief stay in the stables?

The lad looked around quickly. He wetted dry lips with his tongue. He leaned closer to Josse, a rank stench of stables and old sweat coming off him. ‘You was asking about some old woman,’ he said, the words barely audible. ‘I heard you, see, when you was with Lord Fitzwalter.’

‘What of it?’ Josse asked. Excitement stirred in him.

The lad glanced around again. ‘I can help you, if you have the coin to pay for it.’

‘How do I know if what you have to say to me is worth anything?’ Josse countered.

The lad nodded, as if it was a fair question. ‘Tell you what,’ he said. ‘Give me a coin for starting my tale, and if you want to hear more, give me another.’

I have no choice
, Josse thought. He loosened the strings and slid a hand into his purse. He extracted a coin of modest value, and put it in the boy’s outstretched palm.

Speaking softly, the lad said, ‘I was in the stables when they all returned. They didn’t know I was there, see – I was up in the hay loft. Lord Nick, he was angry, shouting at this fellow that was with him. He’d done something wrong, seemingly, and his lordship wasn’t best pleased. “I went to the place you told me and she wasn’t there,” the man says, and Lord Nick replies, quick as you like, “She must have been! You made a mistake, you fool, and looked in the wrong place!” Well, the man, he didn’t like being talked to like that, and he—’ Abruptly he stopped. He had been watching Josse closely, and Josse realized his expression must have revealed his interest. ‘Worth another coin?’ the lad asked quietly.

Josse handed him a second coin. ‘Go on,’ he said.

The boy pocketed the coin. ‘Not a lot more to tell, if I’m honest,’ he admitted with a grin. ‘The other fellow, he didn’t like being called names, you could tell. His voice went all cold and furious, and he said to Lord Nick, “Do not call me a fool. And, before you send me off on another fruitless mission, I suggest you get your facts right.”’ The lad’s smile widened. ‘There! That was worth a modest sum, wasn’t it?’

Josse couldn’t help but return the smile. The boy’s cheek was spectacular, but then times were hard, and you couldn’t blame someone for earning a little when they spotted the opportunity. And the boy was quite right: what he had told Josse was indeed worth what he’d paid to hear it.

Back at the House in the Woods, Josse asked after Helewise. Tilly informed him she was still at the sanctuary and, hoping to find her alone, he went to seek her out.

She was tidying up, folding blankets, putting away bottles and jars containing Meggie’s remedies. Swiftly he summarized his day for her, from the visit to Gervase down in Tonbridge to what had happened at the abbey, and his hurried ride back to the town to see if he could find Lilas. He told her what he had discovered. ‘There’s no reason to suspect the stable lad was lying,’ he added. ‘Why would he?’

‘I’m inclined to agree,’ Helewise said.

‘So, if Fitzwalter’s faction didn’t spirit Lilas away, who did?’ He had been turning it over in his mind all the way home, with no satisfactory result.

‘There’s one very obvious answer to that,’ Helewise said.

‘What?
I
can’t see it,’ Josse grumbled.

‘We’ve assumed she was taken by someone who wanted to use her proclamations and her visions against the king,’ Helewise replied. ‘What if it’s the opposite? Suppose it’s some supporter of King John, who wants to
stop
her speaking out against him and winning others to the anti-John cause?’

Slowly Josse nodded. ‘Aye, it’s credible,’ he acknowledged. He grinned. ‘There’s a problem, however.’

‘Which is?’ she demanded.

Although they were alone, he dropped his voice to a whisper. ‘Is there anyone left who still supports the king?’

She shook her head, her expression rueful. ‘Well, there must be
someone
, and logic suggests he must be fairly local, to be aware of Lilas at all.’ Her face brightened. ‘I can think of someone,’ she said. ‘I cannot, of course, attest to his private opinion of his king, but without doubt he’s been doing very well out of the work he performs for him, which is surely reason enough not to dam the source of the spring. If you see what I mean.’ She looked at Josse expectantly.

Josse thought quickly. ‘You mean Lord Benedict de Vitré? Close friend and associate of King John, entrusted to amass revenue on his behalf, and therefore unlikely to want any voice to be heard that might encourage revolt against the king.’

‘No other,’ she agreed. He thought she sounded a little smug.

‘Aye, you reason soundly, as ever,’ he said. ‘But you are forgetting, I think, one thing. Benedict de Vitré is dead.’

‘Ah yes,
he
is,’ she agreed. ‘But I’m sure he didn’t do all his revenue collecting on his own, Josse. Others must also have been benefiting, and it is surely at least possible that it was they who decided Lilas must not be allowed to speak out again.’

‘It is possible,’ he said heavily. ‘And, I admit, I have not been able to arrive at any better suggestion.’

She looked at him, her face concerned. ‘Dear Josse, you do look tired,’ she observed. ‘It’s no surprise, after all the miles you’ve covered today. Let’s go home, and you can rest.’

He glanced out through the open door and up at the sky. The daylight was fading; it was too late to go anywhere other than home now. ‘Very well,’ he agreed.

He watched as she closed up the sanctuary for the night. Then they set off for the House in the Woods.

‘Cheer up,’ she said. ‘Maybe Tilly will have prepared something special for supper.’

He grunted.

‘What’s wrong?’ Helewise asked. ‘You usually brighten up at the prospect of food.’

With a deep sigh, Josse said, ‘I’m thinking about tomorrow, when, I suppose, I’ll have to go to Medley and see if Lilas is there.’

She gave a soft sound of sympathy, tucking her arm through his. ‘I can afford to be absent from the sanctuary for a while,’ she said. ‘I’ll come with you.

E
arly the next morning, Josse and Helewise set out together for Medley. The morning was overcast, and a build-up of thicker, weightier clouds suggested rain was coming. In compensation, however, the temperature had risen. Will had saddled Alfred and Helewise’s mare, Daisy, and he had also set out hooded capes for Josse and Helewise. ‘It’ll be pouring by noon,’ he warned them. ‘Best go prepared.’

The capes, treated with animal fat to keep out the wet, stank. Rolling them up and tying them behind his saddle, Josse thanked Will, hoping very much they wouldn’t be needed.

Approaching the heavily fortified manor of Medley, they found it in a flurry of activity. The solid gates stood open, although the number of guards on duty would have deterred anyone planning an uninvited entry. Some of the guards were armed with bows, some with pikes. Josse took in the sturdy fence encircling the house and outbuildings, constructed in the usual way and positioned up on a rise, formed from the earth dug out of the ditch that ran all the way round it. The gates were set at an angle to the line of the fence, and Josse saw, as he and Helewise rode closer, that the short entry passage doubled back on the fence line and had a second, even sturdier, pair of gates at the far end.

One of the guards on duty stepped forward smartly to greet them. ‘Your names, sir knight?’ he asked.

He was, Josse noticed, very well turned out, with tunic and cloak made of good material, and fine leather boots polished to a shine. He was also armed, with a sword and another, shorter, blade. Benedict de Vitré’s household clearly maintained high standards, and these had not been permitted to slip just because the master was dead.

Josse looked at Helewise, riding beside him. He was very glad he’d listened to her suggestion that their mission would stand a better chance of success if they honoured their hosts by dressing in their best clothes. Beneath an old but fine-quality cloak trimmed with fox fur, Josse wore a chestnut velvet tunic that he’d only had out of its storage chest twice before. He’d put a feather in his cap. Helewise – studying her, he began to smile – looked like the lady she had been born, in a beautifully cut woollen gown of deepest blue beneath a voluminous cloak with a deep border of marten fur. In her immaculate, white linen headdress under the fine wool veil, she had all the dignity that had been hers when she had been abbess of Hawkenlye.

The guard gave a polite cough, reminding Josse he was still waiting for a response to his query.

Josse turned back to him. ‘This lady is Helewise Warin, and I am Josse d’Acquin.’

‘Thank you, sir. And what is your business at Medley Hall?’

‘We wish to speak to whoever has charge over the household, now that Lord Benedict is dead.’ He did not elaborate; it was a reasonable request, and with any luck the guard would assume they had come to pay their respects to the household in its time of loss. From the bustle of people within the circle of the fence, dozens appeared to have done the same.

‘Lord Benedict’s steward, Sebastian Garrique, is greeting visitors,’ the guard said. ‘If you would ride on within and leave your horses with one of the grooms, you’ll find him in the hall.’ He indicated the largest building, its wide door standing ajar at the top of a long and rather showy flight of steps.

‘Thank you, we will.’ Josse put his heels to Alfred’s sides, and he and Helewise rode into Medley.

She came up beside him as they emerged from the inner set of gates. ‘Why are there so many people here?’ she asked in a low voice.

‘Lord Benedict was an important man,’ he murmured back. ‘No doubt they’ve hurried here to express their regrets that he’s dead, in the hope of securing the favour of whoever rises up to replace him.’

‘There won’t be a burial service,’ she said. ‘There’s no priest to hold it, and anyway he wouldn’t be permitted to do so.’

‘No, but I don’t suppose that’ll stop them having a funeral feast,’ he answered. ‘It certainly looks as if they’re preparing for something of the sort.’

‘Yes,’ she said, turning to look round the wide open space within the fence. He, too, ran his eyes over the bustling scene, taking in the details: a cart loaded with barrels of beer and wine; a servant struggling with a huge side of beef; a collection of sheep carcasses; fowl of all kinds from swans to chickens. To judge from the well-trodden path from the yard to what appeared to be the kitchens, considerable amounts of food and drink had already been taken inside.

Helewise’s mouth fell open. ‘Josse, I know we are very fortunate – and at home we eat better than most – but I haven’t seen so much food in
years
,’ she whispered.

Touched, he wanted to hug her.

Instead he said briskly, ‘Come on, we’ll leave the horses with that stable boy, and proceed with our business here.’

The stables, they noticed, had recently been extended. There was a strong smell of freshly cut timber, emanating from new partitions between the stalls. Crossing the yard to the hall, Josse stared around him, taking in the evidence of other new building work. A great deal of money had clearly been spent here.

He stood back to let Helewise precede him up the steps. As soon as they were through the wide door, a surge of warmth hit them and, moving on inside, they saw that a huge fire blazed in the central hearth. Helewise leaned close to him and said softly, ‘It seems rather wasteful, even for a wealthy household, to build up that magnificent fire and leave the door open.’

He nodded. He had been thinking exactly the same.

In the group of people milling around the hearth, a man turned and stared at them. He was clad all in black, which accentuated his height and his thinness. He wore his dark hair long, brushed straight back from his lean face. The dark eyes, deeply hooded, seemed to glitter in the firelight.

Unsmiling, he advanced towards them. ‘I am Sebastian Garrique,’ he said, ‘and I am Lord Benedict’s steward.’
And
, his rigid, unsmiling demeanour seemed to add,
I am in authority here while all is in a state of flux
. ‘Your names?’