Wolf Wood (Part One): The Gathering Storm (17 page)

'Do you know
what to do?' Ralph asked.

'Yes,' Harald
replied irritably. 'When the Green Man blows his horn I've got to
run in there and get one of those ropes.'

'No.' Ralph
grabbed his arm. 'If you do that, you'll be left behind. As soon as
he looks like he's going to blow … you take off.'

'How will I
know that?'

Ralph gave up.
A man dressed as a gamekeeper had entered the circle of dancers.
Ralph signalled to Henry and they grabbed Harald. The man in green
raised his horn and the crowd surged forward before he could put it
to his lips. Harald was swept along in the stampede. The two monks
elbowed their way to the maypole, thrust a rope into his hand and
propelled him back to Alice.

'My
Valentine!'

She kissed him
on the lips as confusion raged all around. Victors were triumphant.
The vanquished downcast. A boy with a bloodied nose was comforted
by a sympathetic girl. Another was being vilified for returning
empty handed. Ralph and Henry stood nearby, flaunting their ropes
as if they were parts of their male persons.

A group of
girls, decked out in daisy chains, stood nearby. They wore little
bells on ribbons that hung from their waists. Two of them skipped
forward … bells jangling.

'Who be thee
then?'

Their country
accents were so extreme Harald could hardly understand them. Ralph
and Henry had no such problem. They dropped the plummy tones,
favoured in the monastery, and replied in broad Dorset.

'We be tree
sprites.'

The girls
advanced a step. 'What be thee doing here then?'

Ralph
fluttered his leaves. 'We be come on this special day to bestow our
bounty on the first mortal maid who doeth speak to us.'

'That sounds
all right,' the girls said.

Harald
listened to the patter. They were no more than fifteen but there
was nothing innocent about them. And the monks' intentions were all
too obvious. He wondered how they'd tricked Alice into an evening
of debauchery. One of the girls attached herself to Ralph and
another to Henry. Harald clutched Alice, determined to shield her
from harm.

Fights were
breaking out … mostly amongst the girls. There weren't enough ropes
to go round. Lads who had one were in high demand. Harald's heart
went out to the others. He knew how they felt. His entire life had
been sacrificed to males with bigger muscles and better
eyesight.

The boy with
the bloodied nose was sobbing nearby. He wondered if he should
surrender his rope to him and make a dash for safety with Alice.
Then he remembered what had happened to Robin and rejected all idea
of leaving the protection of Ralph and Henry. The thought of being
stripped naked by lustful peasant girls was mortifying.

Eventually,
the fighting died down. Those without ropes went to the outer
circle. Unlucky girls joined unlucky boys. Tears were wiped from
eyes and blood from noses. The losers formed a circle about the
winners and began to sway from side to side. A flute sounded and
everyone began to sing.

'Here be we in
the greenwood, greenwood

Here we be in
the greenwood in the merry month of May

Here we be a
wandering, wandering

Here we be a wandering in the merry month of
May.
'

The flute gave
way to pipes and the boys began to shout.

'In and out
and round about …'

They held up
the ends of their ropes and pranced back and forth with their
partners, singing in deep base voices.

'In and out.
In and out …'

The girls sang
the refrain in high-pitched squeaks.

'Do it again. Do it again …
'

Alice joined
in and Harald was deeply shocked. It was like a nightmare come
true. Bewitched was not too strong a word. Evil forces were
unleashed at this time of the year. Ralph and Henry had taken
advantage of them. What they had done was inexcusable. They were in
holy orders. They knew Alice had been reared in the genteel
seclusion of a convent and would be innocent of the sexual
innuendos of the words she was so innocently using.

He would have
agonised more if he'd not been occupied in a desperate struggle to
stay on his feet. One moment he was dragged forward and the next
back. In the failing light he could see little of what was
happening. He clasped Alice's hand and hung on.

'In and out.
In and out …'

The dancers stopped prancing and started to circle the
maypole.
In and out
became
round about
and that was followed by
round about
and
out and in
. There was no end to
it.

Alice pulled and Ralph pushed. They could see but he was
as
blind as a bat
. Or, should he say
blind as a
mole
? Harald didn't care. All that
mattered was to hang on and that was getting harder and harder.
Every time they completed a circle the dancers were pulled closer
together.

He didn't
doubt the outcome. An orgy would ensue. They would be trapped in a
seething mass of adolescent peasantry. Hands would grope and
unspeakable abominations would occur. In the past, he'd ignored the
vicar's remonstrations about the evils of the May Day festivities.
Now, he realised they were fully justified.

His companions
didn't share his concern. The lustful monks and their lustful
partners were enjoying every moment of it. And so was Alice. In a
sudden rush of understanding, he realised why. She was yearning for
what had been denied her. Alice had been robbed of her youth and
was trying to grasp the little that remained. It might be
witchcraft or the guiding hand of the Holy Mother. Harald decided
on the latter and felt guilty for denying Alice what she so much
desired.

From his
position on the ridge, William looked down at the gyrating mass of
humanity and considered his next move. Guy had taught him that a
good commander should marshal his resources and apply them to
maximum effect. His resources were two cartwheels, primed with
combustible materials. His objective was to create an incident that
would be talked about for years.

He squatted on
his haunches and gnawed on a hunk of meat he had stolen from the
Baret kitchen. There was no hurry. Knights didn't hurry. They knew
timing was everything. If you couldn't understand that you weren't
worth a coot's fart … that's what Guy said.

The minutes
passed. The sun slipped towards the horizon and the dancing got
wilder. William watched the mole stumble around, supported by Alice
and the monks, and couldn't stop laughing. It was the funniest
thing he'd ever seen. He wondered if the mole would fall over and
get trampled underfoot. It would serve him right if he did.

He turned to
the Draper boys. They were at their stations and knew what to do.
They weren't like poncy-nosed Geoffrey Hulle who thought himself so
clever because his father was a master mason. The Draper boys knew
they took orders from knights and didn't act like they were above
their station. It was now quite dark. The dancers were bunched
together and the pipes had quickened. It was time to act.

William rose
to his feet.

'Prepare for
action.'

The Draper
boys heaved at the first of the wheels.

'Aim as
directed.'

They pointed
the wheel at the maypole. William opened his tinderbox and removed
the smouldering cord. Everything had to be got right. He checked
the alignment of the wheel and judged it to be correct.

'Stand
by.'

He applied the
cord to the tallow and the flames spread.

'Release!'

The boys let
go and the wheel rolled down the slope, spurting fire. The second
followed moments later. They sped towards the maypole and the
dancers scattered. William watched them flee into the bushes and
heard the excited screams that followed. One wheel set a haystack
alight and the other burned furiously in a ditch.

Ralph and
Henry fled with a pack of giggling girls and found a grassy patch
amongst the briars. 'You'll be safe with us in the greenwood,'
Ralph told them. 'We tree sprites know all about forest fires.'

'Be tree
sprites made like mortal men?' one of the girls asked.

'When they
appear to mortal maids they be.'

'But there be
six of we. Can thee please us all?'

'When the sap
rises!'

Ralph let out
a roar and was pulled to the ground.

A hand probed
his leafy parts.

'It's risen
alright.'

'Here, let me
'ave a go …'

Ralph tried to
fight them off. Henry was having the same problem. Peasant girls
weren't just big and buxom. They were big and strong. And they
didn't mess around. He'd lured damsels into the greenwood. Now it
was his turn to be undressed. The girls sat on his chest and
fingered him all over. He didn't mind that but there was no give
and take. It was all take. His mask came off. That worried him more
than the loss of his linen undershorts. Men are recognised by their
faces not by their other parts.

'Brother
Paul!'

They let out
excited screams.

His feathered
hat was ripped away and his baldpate exposed.

'It's him
alright … he be one of them monks.'

The girls
seemed more excited than shocked. They tore off his remaining
clothes and fled with them. Ralph crawled to where Henry was lying
and found him similarly exposed. He put a finger to his lips.

'Over there …
can you see him?'

Henry pointed
towards a crouching figure silhouetted against the burning
haystack. It had a donkey's head and was staring straight at
them.

Summoner

William
Bradford sat in his high-backed chair and returned Friar Ashley's
look of horror. 'You say they were stripped of their raiment and
left as naked as the day they were born.'

'That is how I
found them, Father Abbot.'

'Appalling …
wouldn't you say?' William turned to Canon Simon. 'Had not the good
friar chanced upon the brothers they might still be there, hiding
in a ditch, clothed only in rude cloaks made of leaves and
straw.'

'A true
Samaritan.' Simon beamed at the friar. 'You attended to their
wounds and found garments to hide their shame.'

'It was the
least I could do,' Friar Ashley nodded gravely. 'Two holy men
returning from a mission of mercy to a dying relative, attacked by
a lustful crowd and robbed of all their possessions, even their
very clothes.'

'I blame it on
the maypole.' William cleared his throat and spat into the silver
bowl by his chair. 'It is the work of the devil and I'd have it
banned if I had my way. I have put that to our lord bishop but he
won't listen.'

'You say the
summoner was there?' Friar Ashley said.

'Aye, Bailiff
Gallor informed me that the summoner attended the dance disguised
as a donkey in priest's garb. I don't doubt there will be work a
plenty for him in the days to come, summoning the evil doers in our
midst to make account of themselves before the bishop's court. And
that's not all. The good bailiff informs me that his dog was
cruelly slaughtered by one of Master Baret's servants on May Eve.
He says the same servant was earlier exposing himself before a
crowd of young women outside the New Moon Inn.'

'Truly, the
devil has come amongst us.' Friar Ashley reached for his rosary. 'I
ask myself is there any succour I can provide to you holy brothers
in your struggle against the servants of darkness.'

'There is,
since you mention it.'

William
reached for the bursar's report.

'Our receipts
from the parish are sharply down on previous years. You could help
find a remedy. They've stopped putting money in our box and are
making donations to All Hallows instead.'

'I don't see
how I can do much about that.'

'You could
preach against it.' William smoothed the pile of the silken carpet
that graced his table. 'Tell the parishioners that they should put
their money where it's going to work for them. You friars are
educated men. The people listen to you. They know their parish
priests are dolts ... men of little learning who speak without real
authority.'

The friar
looked sceptical.

'You could
hear confessions as well,' William continued. 'Collect penances.
Make a little money for the noble causes of your order.'

Friar Ashley
reconsidered the proposal.

'I suppose I
could … if that is acceptable to you.'

'Perfectly
acceptable. Every penny you receive is one less in the coffers of
All Hallows. The parishioners do not have unlimited funds. They are
very frugal when it comes to good causes.'

'Where do you
want me to preach?'

'In front of
the Julian Inn would be ideal. You can start as soon as you like.
There's no point in wasting time.'

***

Harald left
the almshouse and was walking towards John Baret's house when he
became aware that he was being followed. Footsteps sounded on the
cobbles behind him. It was late evening and he felt vulnerable.
There were far too many undesirables in Sherborne. Vagrants passed
through the town. Many were old soldiers who had been injured in
the French wars. He quickened his pace.

'Sir Harald
Gascoigne. I would have a word with you.'

The voice was
oafish and demanding. No one of any manners would accost a member
of his class in such a way. His brother, Guy, would react
violently. Harald turned and saw a scrawny man in buckled shoes and
a tacky gown.

'Pray, read
this.'

A piece of
parchment was thrust into his hand.