Wolf Wood (Part Two): The Dangerous years (2 page)

There was a strange smell coming from below. He had noticed it earlier and not thought much about it. Beeswax candles were being used and they were scented but different from those you smelt in church. It was sort of musty. He eased his head lower and saw a baldhead through the crack. It was shaved in the priests’ way but the clothes were different. The man wore a cloak with magic signs all over it. Another stood nearby and there was a woman holding a waxen image. He’d seen her talking to Eleanor.

The woman held an image of a man with a crown and she was talking to it. Her voice pulsated back and forth and the image started to lose shape. As Robin watched, it sank and spread out into a formless pool on the table.

It was like something you heard about but never expected to see. They were priests of Satan and they had come with the duke’s party. The image was meant to be the king. They were melting it to bring about his death. That was scary. People who did sorcery could be burnt at the stake. If it was the king they were trying to kill an even more horrible death awaited them. People said Eleanor was a witch. It looked like they were right.

Robin felt himself coming out in a cold sweat. Was Alice involved? Abbot Bradford called her the Almshouse Witch and accused her of sorcery. He’d not believed it. Now he was beginning to wonder. His instinct told him to get as far away from Wolf Wood as possible and have nothing further to do with the Gascoignes.

Witch Hunt

The sun was shining. God was in his heaven and all was right with the world. Abbot William Bradford reigned in his horse and prepared to cross the drawbridge into
Sherborne castle. He felt a flush of pride. His well-laid plans were bearing fruit and he was about to play an important role in the destiny of England and its ruling classes. No less a personage than the Earl of Salisbury was waiting to receive him.

The castle belonged to the Bishop of Salisbury, having been built by one of his predecessors during a time of civil unrest, three centuries earlier. It pleased William to think that the church owned castles. They were an excellent way of keeping the lower classes in order and showing who ruled the land.

He did not usually travel on horseback. His usual means of transport was a closed carriage but today was special. He felt like a young man again, ready to take on the world. Cardinal Beaufort and his allies were at last taking firm action against Duke Humphrey.

The duke held the title of Lord Protector and was, in theory, head on the council that advised the young monarch. Mercifully, his power was slipping away and Cardinal Beaufort was gaining control. William’s family had connections with the Beauforts and he looked forward to the day when they would rule England.

The duke’s lady would be his downfall. William had long predicted it and had convincing evidence to prove it. His spies had been at work in the Gascoigne manor. Eleanor Cobham and the Almshouse Witch were casting spells to bring about the death of young King Henry. For this, they would pay the ultimate price. There was no greater treason. The women would burn for their sins.

William
favoured
Sherborne as a place of execution for the Almshouse Witch. He had lain abed many a night, waiting for the Matins Service to start, picturing Alice de Lambert, dragged screaming onto the abbey green and tied to a stake in front of the new almshouse. He would insist that the monks came out to watch her sizzle.

There were those in the monastery who harboured an obscene affection for the lady. The brothers in the scriptorium were amongst them. Even Canon Simon had been caught making remarks in her defence, saying she was a changed woman. Simon was too naïve to realise that it was all a bluff intended to hide her true intentions.

Simon rode beside him on an elderly warhorse, sitting awkwardly on the animal’s back, looking as if he was about to fall off. William had insisted that he ride the animal. Making Simon feel uncomfortable was an everyday chore. The man had a firm grasp of the law and that gave him illusions of grandeur. Simon came from a humble background and had to be reminded that he must defer to his betters who came from knightly families and rode dangerous horses from an early age.

The guard at the gate snapped to attention as they passed beneath the portcullis and a man in the uniform of a sergeant came forward to greet them. William liked the smart uniforms and tough appearance of the men. The earl had a well disciplined force which would be more than a match for the Gascoignes. With any luck, Sir William and his entire band of brigands would be slaughtered when the earl stormed the manor to arrest Duke Humphrey.

He dismounted and watched as Simon was helped from his horse. The guard remained at the gate and they headed for the castle keep. Simon disappeared up a spiral staircase. William puffed along behind and arrived at the top feeling dizzy. Two men, in short tunics and riding britches, were standing beside a table. William assumed they were servants. One stepped forward and extended a gracious hand.

‘Father. Pray, be seated.’

William removed his cloak and handed it to the man who handed it to the other man before continuing with his welcome.

‘Your information has been most helpful, Father.’

William slumped in a chair and listened as the man spoke about the information provided by his spies. He wondered what a servant would know about it and was becoming increasingly annoyed when the fellow had the impertinence to ask if his sources were reliable. Simon intervened before he could express his indignation.

‘The Lord Earl needs to be sure that their testimony will stand up under examination in a court of law.’

It occurred to William that he had made an understandable mistake. The earl should have received him in his robes of office. People looked so ordinary when not dressed up. They only had themselves to blame if they were mistaken for common servants.

‘I can assure you that my sources are reliable,’ he replied gruffly. ‘I have gathered enough evidence for you to go in there and arrest Duke Humphrey a hundred times over.’

‘The Lord Protector is beyond reproach,' the earl cut him short. ‘His Highness is the victim of evil forces. Mistress Cobham seduced him with witchcraft and is now using her diabolical skills to bring about the death of our young king. We are in enough trouble with her as Duchess of Gloucester. To have her as Queen Eleanor would be intolerable. My uncle, Cardinal Beaufort, is greatly concerned by the harm that evil woman could do.’

‘My spies tell me that Mistress Cobham and her associates make images of His Majesty and slowly melt them to bring about his untimely death,’ William said.

‘We have noted that information,’ the earl nodded. ‘You also speak of a certain Alice de Lambert who resides at the Gascoigne manor. You say she is in possession of forbidden books.’

‘My informants have copied pages from them. They contain signs of divination and are in the language of the Muslim unbelievers and the foul Jews who murdered our blessed Lord Jesus.’

‘We shall arrest Alice de Lambert.' The earl made a note on his writing block. ‘You say that Margery Jourdain is at the manor … the woman they call the Witch of Eye?’

‘That is my information.’

‘She will also be arrested.’

The earl continued to make notes and William listened as he outlined plans for an assault on the manor. Nothing would be done until the duke and Sir William Gascoigne were well clear of the place. The duke and the duchess would not be touched but their associates would be taken into custody and subjected to interrogation.

William wondered what fate lay in store for Alice de Lambert. Perhaps the Almshouse Witch would be put in an iron cage with spikes that poked inwards. There were straps that could be tightened until the miscreant confessed her sins or bled to death. He ran his mind over other instruments of torture and felt pleased with his day’s work.

***

Robin plodded up Cheap Street. He had jogged most of the way from the manor to Sherborne, carrying his few possessions in a kitbag slung over his shoulder. His longbow was back at the manor. That was a battle weapon and useless for fighting at close quarters. His only weapons now were a small crossbow and a dagger that hung from his belt. It was midmorning by the time he reached the Julian Inn. His mother lived above a small shop at the rear. His intention was to see her then get well clear of Sherborne. Being anywhere near the Gascoignes was dangerous. When the upper classes got involved in witchcraft their servants were questioned. When the witchcraft was aimed at the king, the questioning could get very nasty.

‘Mum. I’m back!’

He clattered up the stairs to his mother’s small room and banged loudly.

A bolt was drawn and the door flew open. Her eyes filled with tears.

‘I thought I’d never see you again.’

She threw her arms round his neck and hung onto him.

‘I came back with old Sir William, Mum.' Robin hugged her. ‘He said I could stay. He’s not like Guy. He wouldn’t let me leave France.’

‘They’ve been very kind to me … the Gascoignes. I don’t know what I would have done without them.' She brushed a tear from her cheek. ‘Alice comes to see me regular to make sure I’m all right. I expect Sir Harald asked his father if you could stay. He thinks very highly of you, Robin. He don’t trust the people Sir Guy has left there. It’s all very worrying … what with that Eleanor coming to stay … and all those people she brings with her. There’s that Margery Jourdain. Everyone knows she’s a witch and Alice don’t trust the men neither. There’s nothing she can do about it, seeing that Eleanor is married to Duke Humphrey.’

‘You mean Alice isn’t doing spells?’

‘Holy Mother. Whatever put such an idea in your head?’

‘People say she mixes magic potions.’

‘Those are wicked lies put out by Abbot Bradford and his toadies. The good brothers in the infirmary have told us how Alice saves lives with her cures.’

‘You mean she’s not part of it.’

‘Whatever do you mean, Robin?’

‘I thought she was working spells to kill the king. I saw them at it. They were melting a wax image of him and chanting. That’s why I got out.’

‘Alice was melting an image of the king?’

‘No. She wasn’t there.’

‘Nor would she be neither. Alice is a good Christian lady. She would never do such a thing. You must go back to the manor where you are needed. I’ve never known a kinder person than Alice. People think she’s a saint … the way she cares for others … and she’s got that lovely little boy.’

Robin said he would return to the manor in a couple of days. Sir Harald had told him that he wasn’t needed straight away and should visit his mother before he got started. That meant they didn’t know he’d done a bunk. He would go back just like they expected.

He spent the night with her, sleeping on a straw mattress on the floor as he had when he was a boy. His father died of the coughing disease when he was a child and his mother had never remarried. Unlike some widows, she kept her hair covered and still wore her husband’s ring, confident they would meet again in the happier life, promised by the church.

Despite being back at home, Robin was lonely. He felt the need for a head beside his pillow. He’d had girls in France but they were not lovers. The archers’ term for what they did together was
shafting
. It was fun but not the same as making love. Kissing a nice girl was more like making love but those sorts of girls weren’t into
shafting
. Some wouldn’t even let you hold hands.

On the following day he went round to the Julian Inn to see if there was anyone he knew. A crowd of Agincourt veterans was sunning themselves outside, swigging ale and hurling insults at the people next door in the George Inn. Robin surveyed the line of pot bellies, hanging out over leather belts, and resolved never to get like them.

He decided to give the Julian a miss. He didn’t want to get involved with the veterans. They’d ask about the war in France and he didn’t want any part in it. As far as he was concerned, the English had no right to be there and should get out. That wasn’t what the veterans would want to hear. Four years ago, he had looked up to them as heroes. Now he had nothing but contempt for them.

The sign outside the George was of a knight slaying a dragon. He walked beneath it and peered inside. To his surprise, the place was packed with soldiers wearing the uniforms of the Earl of Salisbury. They were lounging around on benches and ignoring the Agincourt veterans who were yelling insults at them. Normally, they would have dashed outside and a fight would have ensued. Robin glanced at a steely-faced sergeant and guessed he had his men under control.

‘Humph! Humph! Humph!’

The veterans set up a chant. Robin looked out of the window and saw a man coming up Cheap Street on a black horse, bearing the colours of the Duke of Gloucester. He was followed by Duke Humphrey. His duchess, Eleanor, rode beside him on a huge mare. She sat astride the animal in a manner that was most unladylike. Even in France, people talked about how she behaved. Some said she rode on a broomstick to attend witches’ covens. After what he had seen at the manor, Robin was prepared to believe every word of it.