Alys Clare - Mist Over the Water

‘I thought they were just horsing around,’ he went on. ‘One of them was a younger man. He wasn’t much more than a lad, maybe fifteen or sixteen, and he was slim, slight, with bright, very pale hair. I reckoned the older men were teasing him, maybe even bullying him a bit. I guessed the hastily suppressed cry was him — the pale lad — and probably one of the others had quickly shushed him because they were close by the abbey gate and the older monks didn’t want anyone to hear the horseplay and get them into trouble.’ He stared into the distance, eyes unfocused. ‘I don’t reckon they hold with monks being boisterous,’ he remarked.

I was trying to make sense of it. The monks had been roughing up the pale boy and they knew they’d get into trouble if their superiors found out. Was that it? But not that much trouble, surely — not enough to kill the man who had seen the incident. .

Sibert said, ‘Perhaps the pale boy doesn’t want to be a monk and they were taking him inside the abbey by force.’

It was a better idea than mine. ‘They knew someone had seen them, that someone being Morcar — ’ I picked up the thread — ‘and, because what they were doing was wrong, the witness had to be silenced before he told anyone what he’d seen.’

Sibert and I both turned to Morcar. ‘What do you think?’ Sibert asked him. ‘Does that make sense?’

Morcar thought about it. ‘I suppose so,’ he said. ‘But why would it matter to anyone but the lad if he were made to be a monk when he didn’t want to?’ He glanced at me. ‘Who did they fear I’d tell?’

I had no idea. ‘Er-’

‘It would matter,’ Sibert said slowly, ‘if the pale boy is someone important.’

Silence fell as we all thought about that. Eventually, I said tentatively, ‘What, like some lord’s son who was supposed to make an influential marriage?’ We all knew how the wealthy and powerful in our land used their children as pawns in their complicated games, marrying them off where their presence would most benefit their fathers.

‘It’s possible surely?’ Sibert said. ‘And whoever is trying to shut him up with the monks doesn’t want this marriage to happen.’

It was possible, certainly it was. ‘Yes,’ I replied. With an effort I turned away from the interesting avenues of speculation that were flooding my mind. ‘We must work out the why later,’ I said firmly. ‘For now, we have something far more important to do.’ I edged closer to Sibert, lowering my voice. ‘Did you find a boat?’

He nodded. He was smiling, excitement thrumming through him. ‘Yes. It lies tethered to a post right at the end of the track, and it looks as if nobody’s been near it for years.’

‘Is it watertight?’ I demanded. It sounded too good to be true.

‘It floats,’ Sibert hedged. ‘But listen, I’ve got some really good news — it’s raining again, very, very hard!’

Morcar, hearing this, groaned aloud. Thinking of him, my poor, sick patient, I said sharply, ‘Why in the Lord’s name is that good news?’

Sibert looked happily at Morcar and me. ‘Because the water’s started to rise once more, very fast. Already, many of the lower-lying areas around the island are flooded.’

I still did not understand. Morcar did. He said kindly, ‘When it floods, Lassair, you don’t need to find a mule or a carter to take you from Ely to Aelf Fen. With a boat and a strong oarsman — ’ he shot a grateful look at Sibert — ‘you can go by water all the way.’

I did my very best for my cousin. I checked the wounds in his foot, which were angry looking, the surrounding flesh red and swollen, but which showed no signs of putrefaction. I dabbed on more comfrey ointment and re-dressed the foot, wrapping a generous amount of linen around it to pad it. The wounds would hurt like fury if Morcar so much as touched his foot to a hard surface, and I knew I must do what I could to soften the impact. Then Sibert and I helped Morcar into his outer garments, wrapping him closely in his woollen cloak and putting the new short, hooded cloak over the top. I prepared a pack of food and medicines — not many of the latter, for with any luck he would be with Edild in a few hours — and Sibert slung it on his back. Then we gathered up Morcar’s blanket and the sack containing his tools, and together Sibert and I got him to his feet.

Sibert checked the alley outside. It was dusk and there was nobody about, which was hardly surprising as it was raining so hard that we could barely see three yards in front of us. I dived back for my own blanket and put it over Morcar’s head. He needed it more than I did.

We set off, keeping under the eaves of the hovels as much as we could, and Sibert led the way down to the isolated spot where the boat lay all but hidden in the rushes. Its bottom held several inches of water, which Sibert baled out as best he could with his cupped hands. Then we helped Morcar down into it, settling him on the thwart that ran across at the stern. The boat had a framework over the stern and the tattered remnants of a cover for it lay folded under the thwart. The cover was made of canvas, hard and brittle with age, full of dusty dried leaves, cobwebs, dust and general dirt; by the time Sibert and I had draped it over the frame we were both filthy as well as soaked. The cloth did a little to keep the worst of the rain off Morcar and as he looked up at me I could just make out his white face.

He must have seen my anxiety. ‘I’ll be all right,’ he said. I could hear his teeth chattering and I leaned out to him, trying to tuck his blanket more tightly around him, rocking the boat dangerously.’

‘Stop it, Lassair!’ Sibert said in a harsh whisper. ‘We’re wet enough without you spilling us into the water!’

I drew back on to the bank. I felt utterly miserable, worried out of my mind for my patient and not at all sure I was doing the right thing. It would do him no good if we got him away from the men who were trying to kill him only to have him die out on the fen in an open boat. .

It was as if he read my thought. ‘I won’t die,’ he said with a grin. ‘Takes more than a drop of rain to see me off.’

His uncomplaining courage all but undid me. ‘Go on, get on your way,’ I called out softly to Sibert. ‘Take him straight to my aunt.’

‘I will.’ Already, Sibert had coiled in the painter, and now he was nudging the little boat away from the shore with an oar. As I watched he slid the other oar into the water and, as soon as he was clear of the bank, he began to row, quickly getting into a rhythm so that the boat gathered speed. The craft and its passengers disappeared into the teeming rain.

‘Goodbye. Good luck,’ I whispered.

They wouldn’t have heard me. Over the deafening sound of the rain on the water, they wouldn’t have heard me even if I’d yelled.

The little hovel seemed lonely and empty without them. I tried not to think about them out there on the fen; there was nothing I could do now to help them and they must take their chance, relying on Sibert’s oarsmanship and knowledge of the area to get them safely to Aelf Fen. It ought not to take long; going straight across the floodwater was much more direct than going the long way round on dry land. Edild would not mind being woken up in the predawn, and she would-

Stop it , I commanded myself.

I tidied the room, sweeping out the straw that Morcar had lain on and stacking it inside the door for disposal in the morning. I shook up the bed where Sibert had slept and spread out his blanket. I no longer had my blanket, having given it to Morcar, so I made up the fire, banked it carefully with ash to make sure it stayed in till morning, then wrapped myself in my shawl, pulled the end of Sibert’s blanket up over my legs and closed my eyes.