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Authors: Cassandra Clark

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BOOK: Hangman Blind
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Thinking she might be of some help in cornering the animal, as well as making sure it went unharmed, Hildegard followed. At that point Sueno de Schockwynde came up from the yard.

‘They’re all waiting, sister,’ he boomed, ‘And Sir Ralph will not leave without his little cat. Where is the naughty fellow?’

‘Come and help,’ called Hildegard over her shoulder and as she turned into one of the rooms after the servant she added, ‘He’s in here.’

Master Jacques was crouching on a bench, fur erect, tail lashing, angry hissing issuing from between his pretty jaws. Ralph’s man was inching towards him without a sound. Suddenly he hurled himself on the cat but at that precise moment Sueno reached the doorway and exclaimed in his usual voice, ‘I say! What a wicked little devil!’

It was enough to distract the servant, and Master Jacques, seizing his opportunity, hared off towards the chimney and, with a flying leap, sprang for safety inside. His escape was brief. He was at once sent back down in a shower of soot, to land in a yowling heap on the hearth.

The servant threw himself on top of the confused animal and secured him by the scruff of his neck. ‘Got you, you little bastard!’ he muttered between clenched teeth.

‘Well caught, sir!’ exclaimed Sueno, sauntering on into the room with a beaming smile.

The cat was all teeth and claws but once trapped, he was not going to escape. The servant, grimacing and with fresh scratches to add to the ones already visible on his face bore the protesting Master Jacques towards the door. He had to pass close to where Hildegard was standing and as he drew level he swivelled his head with something like surprise. Where before his expression had been merely hostile, now a look of confusion came over his face. His glance swept her from head to toe then travelled back to her face. Without a word he took the cat outside.

‘Only at Hutton, eh?’ Sueno smiled up at Hildegard. He was unaware of any undercurrent. ‘Sir Ralph really is incorrigible. But now I suppose we can move off. May I accompany you to Meaux, sister?’

‘Thank you, Master Sueno, but would you give me a moment?’ She looked down the corridor to see the servant hurrying towards the stairs with the cat held at arm’s length, claws well out of range of his face. He started the descent to the yard at a rapid clip. She put him out of her mind. There was something else to consider. It was Master Jacques. He had been ejected with startling force from inside the chimney.

While Sueno ambled over to inspect recent work on the window embrasure Hildegard went to the chimney and, resting one hand on the ledge, peered up to see what had prevented the cat’s escape. Sure enough there was a blockage. Reaching up she tugged at a piece of cloth that was jammed inside. It was velvet, she realised as soon as her fingers touched it. She dragged it down and shook it free of soot.

When she unfolded it she found it was a chaperon of triple-died velvet, a little singed at the back. Wrapped inside was a pair of poulaines with double latchets and the sort of long points that had prompted Ulf to mention a statutory fine for the wearer of similar footwear earlier. Of course, no fine would be payable if they were the property of the owner of the chaperon. She rubbed it between finger and thumb. It was the best quality fabric and only somebody with the status of a knight would be allowed the privilege of wearing such an expensive dye. The shoes themselves were made of soft leather and had a pattern of incised cross-hatching. More significantly, they were stained with several dark blotches, the colour of dried blood.

 

By the time she returned to the yard accompanied by Sueno de Schockwynde, who had noticed nothing of the find she had hidden under her cloak, the cortège was about to move off. All sounds were muffled even though the place was seething with people. The swift feet, soft shod, the lowered voices of the noisiest Saxon serving man, and even the muffled rattle of the horses’ bridles, confirmed that the castle was in deep mourning. There was an additional atmosphere of stunned fear at the enormity of what Sir William had done to one of their own.

Ulf had a face like thunder. When Hildegard approached, he growled, ‘Just because we’re still going to Meaux they imagine he’s going to get off.’ He gave a grimace. ‘Not if I have anything to do with it.’ Bestowing on her a look of anguish, he walked away with long, hurried strides that took him to the head of the convoy.

The de Hutton contingent set off first, followed by Sir Ralph’s family, his household taking up several wagons. As she walked over to take her place at the end of the line she spotted Ralph’s man-servant sitting with Master Jacques and some of the other personal attendants. She drew level. He lifted his head to watch her and his black glance held hers in a prolonged stare until the wagon carried him away out of the yard.

His rich attire showed he was one of the favourites. Apart from an untidily clipped beard and a bloodshot right eye, he would have looked convincing enough in the role of upper servant. There was something at odds, however, between his manner and his garments. He wore them awkwardly. And it was that red eye, she thought. As she had looked into his face she had been unable to miss it. A shudder of revulsion drove through her. There was no doubt who he was. It was barely conceivable that one of Sir Ralph’s own attendants should behave as he had done. He was more than a mere man-at-arms like those other louts he had been drinking with. He was one of the upper servants with privileges and responsibilities. Now, by the malice of his glance, she guessed he knew who she was too.

 

Master Sueno was a welcome distraction as he fussed around to help Hildegard climb into the space he had saved for her by his side. They occupied the last wagon to leave. Her two hounds had been reluctantly released by Burthred, the little kitchen serf, but, to his great excitement, he now travelled with Roger’s kitcheners so that he could watch over the hounds when they reached Meaux. Duchess and Bermonda loped along beside the cavalcade, as attentive as guardian spirits.

As the wagons rattled on down the lane into the forest Hildegard pondered over the bundle she had found in the chimney and wondered if the poulaines would match the prints beside the body of the murdered girl. She would wager a large sum that they would and her heart was heavy to think what this might imply for Ralph’s part in the terrible and mystifying events that had swept them all into their coils.

Chapter Eleven

I
T WAS A
full day’s ride down to Meaux. Apparently there had been some discussion about whether it would be advisable, owing to the shortness of the days, to break the journey and spend the night in one of Roger’s hunting lodges. Sibilla was keen to stop for the baby’s sake and Ralph agreed. But Melisen had to be consulted. Sueno explained all this to Hildegard.

‘And, sweet girl,’ he went on, ‘she was in floods of tears at the thought of Lord Roger’s body being shaken to bits in its coffin on the rutted track so she pleaded strongly that we should travel directly as she could not bear the thought of it all continuing “endlessly, endlessly, endlessly—” her very words and intonation,’ he pointed out, looking pleased with his performance. Hildegard said she did not doubt it.

His expression changed. ‘But it’s a bad business, Sir William behaving in that way. What on earth got into him? It was all so sudden.’

‘Were you present, master?’

He shook his head and gave a shudder. ‘I’d gone to my bed long before but I heard all about it this morning. They say—’ he leaned forward confidentially, ‘that is was jealousy.’ He sniffed. ‘Sir William fighting over a woman – a servant! Whatever next!’

The carts creaked alarmingly as they trundled over the track after the hearse. Their pace was slow because of the mud that kept clogging the wheels. Every few minutes a cry would go up from the carters, ‘Dun’s in t’mire!’ and the whole train would have to halt for a while to let the servants dig them out where they were stuck. Spare wheels were carried among the baggage, she noted, Ulf’s foresight against breakages.

She longed for an opportunity to show him the velvet chaperon and the fashionable shoes and see what he made of them, as well as to hear what else he had to say about William. But he was far up the trail, riding beside the driver of the six plumed horses.

The twists and turns of the track together with the failing light as the day drew on made the leading wagons difficult to see, and as they entered the thickest part of the forest even Melisen’s foliage-bedecked wagon was lost in the gloom. Soon they were guided only by the scent of crushed yew, the occasional commands of the servants, the jingle of harness and the light of flares carried by the lamp-men, visible as a chain of fire between the trees.

There were more shouts from in front and the train came to another halt. The two horses pulling the wagon Master Sueno had requisitioned were backed up by the cart in front and by the time the grooms had placated the skittering animals the shouting from up the track had increased.

It was augmented by a sound like the clash of steel. Hildegard stood up in the cart and tried to make out what was happening.

‘Somebody else stuck in the quag,’ suggested Sueno affably.

‘I think not. This is something else.’

Hildegard stepped down, lifting her hem above the mud, and took a few paces towards the front, but before she could go further there was the sound of horses crashing through the undergrowth and she was just in time to make out three shadowy riders, cloaks flying, riding their horses off into the night. She began to run. Her hounds followed. Slipping and panting, she reached the lead wagon to find Ulf crouching on the ground, one hand clutched to his left shoulder.

‘I’m all right,’ he managed to gasp as she knelt beside him. ‘Nothing but a flesh wound. It’s Melisen.’

‘What?’

‘They’ve taken her.’

There was a commotion in the undergrowth as half a dozen men on foot came panting back. ‘We lost them almost at once, sir. They vanished like wraiths. It’s too dark to follow. They must know these woods like the back of their hands.’

‘I’ll show you the back of my hand,’ gasped Ulf, evidently in pain, ‘if you don’t get on your horses after them.’

Arguing among themselves about who was to blame for giving up so quickly, and why the horses hadn’t been unstrung at once, and how there were no such things as ghosts, the men peeled off in separate directions while Ulf raised himself to his feet. He leaned heavily against the side of the the wagon in which Melisen had been travelling and Hildegard could see blood darkening the cloth of his surcoat.

‘Let me look,’ she said tersely. The swamping scent of funeral lilies filled the air.

With a small exhalation she saw that it was, as he had guessed, only a flesh wound. But it was bad enough. She staunched it and cleaned it as best she could, then bandaged it while he told her what had happened.

‘I’d gone on ahead with three or four men to inspect the trail. The others were at their ease coming on foot to rest the horses. Then we heard a commotion behind us. When we rode back we saw Sir William with Lady Melisen across his saddle and one of his guards holding a knife to Sir Ralph’s throat. I judged Ralph well able to take care of himself so I threw myself after William, only to be cut at by some fellow who sprang at me from behind a tree. They had obviously planned the whole thing with care. The knife-wielding fellow fled before Sir Ralph could scramble from the wagon and grab his sword. He’d put aside his weapons in order to ride for a while with the baby.’

Ralph was standing in the middle of the track with his sword raised against the long-departed attackers, bellowing with rage. ‘I can’t leave Sibilla. Nor dare I leave little Roger,’ he was saying as Hildegard walked up. He turned to her. ‘He must have taken leave of his senses. What can he want with Melisen, for heaven’s sakes? It defies all reason.’ He glared at Ulf. ‘You must have your ear to the ground, steward. What the devil’s he up to?’

‘Haven’t an inkling, sire. Yesterday was bad enough but this – it beats all imagining!’ He turned to Hildegard and spread one arm. ‘What’s his game?’

‘I don’t know Sir William,’ said Hildegard carefully.’ ‘Has he taken her with malicious intent, do you think, or is there some other, more subtle reason?’

Sir Ralph waved his sword. ‘No time for speculation. Drive on, steward! We must get my lady and the babe to safety with all haste. Let’s keep them from harm at least.’

Reluctantly Ulf climbed into the saddle. He was scowling. ‘If they value their necks, the trackers will find their quarry and bring him to us at Meaux.’

The remaining men, scattered in some disarray, were gazing helplessly off into the trees with their swords drawn. He ordered them to their horses. The few who wore Sir William’s blue dragon badge stood in a disconsolate group, clearly not knowing whether they were to be put in shackles as punishment for Lady Melisen’s abduction or have their throats swiftly cut, but Ulf gestured for them to follow under escort.

He turned to Hildegard. ‘Have a care. Don’t loiter at the end of the train. Ride with me. Who knows what further evil that fiend has in mind.’

‘I’ll ride with Master Sueno,’ she said. ‘He’ll be glad of the company. And besides, I think it’s only Lady Melisen William requires in this particular game.’

Despite his pleas to the contrary, she waited by the side of the track with her hounds close about her while the wagons of the de Hutton household, followed by those of Ralph and Sibilla, passed. The manservant, still in charge of Master Jacques, had drawn a broadsword and was glancing from side to side as the wagon made its way through the trees. He noticed her because she saw his black eyes flicker over her as he went by.

When the last wagon hove into view Hildegard climbed aboard. The horses were whipped to as brisk a pace as possible through the mud. With her mind busy with the possible reasons for William’s latest eruption into violence, she described to Sueno what had taken place, pausing only when she noticed how his hand was gripping the hilt of his sword. The thought of Sir William, armed, rampaging through the forest with the intention of abducting whomsoever he pleased, was enough to frighten anyone and it made the master builder’s eyes stare in shock and his tongue, for once, fall silent. In fact it was not only Master Sueno who started in fear at every sound coming out of the dark wood. The servants huddled together like sheep waiting for the onslaught of a pack of wolves and the men-at-arms, those left to protect the cavalcade, rode all the way with their swords at the ready and their eyes pricked for further attack.

And so it was, some time later, when the moon hung suspended like a great lantern in the void and shed its sinister glow over the forest, that they finally arrived at the Abbey of Meaux.

BOOK: Hangman Blind
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