Alys Clare - Mist Over the Water

I turned to Sibert. ‘We need to get Morcar off the island,’ I said. ‘As soon as it’s getting dark you must slip out and find a boat. If we have to use a boatman, we’ll pay him well because he’ll have to keep his mouth shut. Once you’re over the water, beg, borrow or steal a mule and get Morcar on it, then take him to Edild as fast as you can.’ I stopped, breathing hard.

‘What about you?’ Sibert demanded. Morcar was looking at us in horror. ‘Aren’t you coming?’

‘No.’ I knew what I must do, and even as I hatched my plan I knew that someone had done it before me; I was repeating the actions in someone else’s tale. It had worked for them, I reminded myself, or anyway this bit of it had. If the spirits were with me, it might work for me.

‘Why not?’ Morcar whispered, although from the expression in his eyes I think he already knew.

I looked down at him. ‘Because the murderers must not know you’ve gone. If we all leave, there will be nobody to keep up the pretence that you’re still here.’ Sibert began to speak, but I knew what he was going to say and didn’t let him finish. ‘It has to be me,’ I said firmly, ‘because I’m the healer and I know what to do. I’ll bustle about asking for various herbs and preparations as if I’m still treating my patient. I’ll even go to your precious monks, Morcar, and ask their advice.’

Both men were staring at me, neither looking very confident. It was depressing, since I’d hoped they might have more faith in me.

‘It’s dangerous,’ Sibert stated flatly, just as Morcar said, ‘I cannot let you do this.’

I sighed. ‘You don’t let me do things, Morcar, you’re my cousin not my father or my husband,’ I said tetchily. ‘As I keep reminding you, I’m a healer. I have a duty, and if I don’t fulfil it I’m in trouble.’ That was not strictly true, but I hoped neither of them would appreciate it. ‘As to danger, Sibert, there’s only danger around Morcar, so if you take him away and leave me here you’ll actually be making it safer for me.’

There had to be a flaw in that argument, but I couldn’t see it. Nor could Sibert; grudgingly, he muttered, ‘Very well then.’

Quickly, I bent down to Morcar. ‘Now, drink, eat if you can and rest. I will check your foot later, and we’ll wrap you warmly. As soon as night falls, you must go.’

It said a lot about the state my poor cousin was in that he didn’t argue any more but instead gave a feeble nod and fell back limply on his bed. I immediately busied myself with preparing food and hot drinks, going through my herbal supplies in my mind and deciding what remedy I should give to Morcar next. Anything, really, to take my mind off the prospect of that night, after they’d gone.

When I would be quite, quite alone.

There were several hours to wait until it was sufficiently dark to sneak Morcar away without anyone seeing us. I wished it were not so, for it was very hard to fill the time and keep the lid on my nervous anxiety. I gave Morcar a sleeping draught; the more he slept, the stronger he would be for the ordeal of the journey. Sibert and I soon ran out of harmless, non-worrying things to say and with relief — certainly on my part — eventually returned to what was uppermost in our minds.

‘You really think someone tried to kill him?’ he whispered, nodding down at the sleeping Morcar.

‘Yes. Why, don’t you?’

‘Oh, yes. There seems no doubt now that the other poor man has been so brutally killed.’ Sibert frowned. ‘Although we still don’t know which of them, Morcar or the dead man, is really the intended victim.’

I, too, had been worrying about that. ‘Why would anyone want to kill Morcar?’ I wondered aloud.

‘I have no idea,’ Sibert said. ‘He’s your cousin. Can’t you come up with anything?’

Slowly, I shook my head. ‘No. Until he came here to Ely, he’s always lived the quiet life of an industrious and not very sociable flint knapper. He’s respected, well liked, as far as I know, and he’s never been in any sort of trouble.’

‘Then maybe it’s the other man who’s the real victim,’ Sibert said eagerly, ‘which would be good because, although of course I’m very sorry for him, at least if the killers know the right man is dead there’s no danger for Morcar any more.’

‘Ye-es,’ I said slowly. I was thinking.

When I said no more Sibert, too, fell silent. I think he even managed to doze, although sleep was very far from me. Late in the afternoon he stirred, stretched, got up and announced that he needed some cool fresh air to clear his head.

‘Be careful,’ I warned.

He grinned. ‘I will.’ Then, his face serious again, ‘I’ll have a look around for a boat, preferably without a boatman in it. It would be good to earmark one for later.’

‘It would,’ I agreed. ‘Good luck.’

Morcar woke up while Sibert was out. To my enormous relief he looked better. The bright-red flush of fever that had stained his cheeks had all but faded away. His eyes were bright, and he looked alert. When I asked him how he felt he grinned briefly and said, ‘I’ll do.’

My cousin is, as I think I’ve said, habitually a man of few words.

While we waited for Sibert to come back I encouraged Morcar to eat — I’d made a sort of savoury porridge which, even though I say it myself, smelled appetizing — and he drank a mug of my febrifuge infusion. Not wanting to put him off his meal I waited till he had finished, then I said, ‘Morcar, if you were the intended victim of the killers, can you think of any reason they would want you dead?’

He smiled grimly. ‘Lassair, since I’ve been able to think clearly again I’ve thought of little else.’

‘And?’ I prompted.

He shook his head. ‘I can think of nothing.’

It was starting to look as if the dead man had been the true target. ‘I-’ I began.

The door was pushed open and Sibert slipped quickly inside, closing the door behind him and leaning against it. I could tell from his face that something was wrong. ‘What?’ I whispered.

He looked down at Morcar and me. ‘There’s been another murder. They found him just now, down in a ditch by the eel fisheries.’

‘Drowned?’ I asked, horrified.

‘No.’ Sibert’s face was grim. ‘Stab wound in the back that went straight through the heart.’

I tried to control the shaking that all but made my teeth clatter. ‘Was he wearing a cloak like Morcar’s?’

Slowly, Sibert nodded.

I crouched beside my cousin. ‘Morcar, I think they really are after you!’ I said urgently. ‘They attacked the right man first time, but you managed to live. Now they have tried twice more, and two innocent men have-’ I bit down on the rest of the sentence. Morcar undoubtedly knew already what I’d been about to say. ‘There must be a reason why they want you dead!’ I said instead. ‘Can’t you think of anything ? Has any small incident happened recently that you’ve forgotten about? Something you saw or overheard? Something somebody told you that seemed insignificant at the time but now-’

Sibert nudged me. ‘Let him speak,’ he said.

I realized Morcar was smiling — very faintly — as he waited for my flow of words to stop. ‘Sorry,’ I muttered.

His expression deepened fleetingly into a real smile. Then he said, ‘There was something.’

Together Sibert and I said, ‘What?’

‘It was when Lassair asked if there was anything I saw,’ Morcar said slowly, frowning as if thinking hard. ‘There was something, when I was going home after a long day’s eel fishing. I was tired and dispirited, it was raining like the Flood was coming back and my new cloak was letting in water. I was trudging along under the abbey wall and I could see a gate house up ahead. Not the main one; this was a small one that they don’t use much. I heard a shrill cry but it was quickly muffled, and I peered into the shadows to see who was there. I could make out four figures, maybe five. They were monks, or I thought that was what they were — robed men, anyway, and at least one wore the dark, hooded habit of the Benedictines.’ He paused. I noticed that his breathing had quickened and I hoped it was with the effort of telling his story and not from rising fever.