Alys Clare - Mist Over the Water

His thoughts ran on. The Wessex plot depended on both Lord Edmund, who was the driving force behind it and in addition its financier, and also, of course, on Gewis, and on the boy being who they said he was. If one or the other were to be removed then the plot would collapse. Rollo could not remove Gewis; for one thing he did not know where the lad was, and for another there was Lassair. If there was no other solution, he would just have to remove Lord Edmund.

He felt calm descend on him. It was always the way; all the time he was undecided, and several courses of action presented themselves, he felt as tightly stretched as a bowstring before the arrow flies. However, once he had made up his mind it was different. He had learned long ago to take all the time he needed to go through each and every possibility so that, once the decision was made, he knew it was the right one and he never undermined it by entertaining second thoughts.

In the middle of the afternoon, two of the big guards came hurrying along the street and were quickly admitted into the house where Lord Edmund was lodging. Rollo stiffened, his full attention fixed on the spot where the two men had just disappeared. They were worried. He had seen that in the way they moved and in the anxious glances they shot over their shoulders. Something had unnerved them; what was it? He ran over several possibilities. He would wait to see what happened next before he made up his mind.

Within a short time there was more activity outside the house. The two guards reappeared and checked up and down the street, then one beckoned behind him and from within the house a tall, thin, cloaked figure appeared, the hood drawn forward to conceal the head and face. The cloak, however, was of expensive material and the man’s boots were of supple leather and polished to a shine; he was a man of wealth, and Rollo knew his identity. He watched as the other two guards fell into step behind him, one carrying a large bag, and the five of them set off hurriedly along the street.

Rollo emerged from his hiding place and followed them. They hastened across the marketplace, one of the guards swearing at a fat woman with a basket who got in the way and raising a hand to cuff her out of their path, and made straight for the abbey gates. The pair of guards in the lead summoned the monk on duty, and he came to speak to Lord Edmund. There was a muttered conversation, the monk nodded quickly a few times and then Lord Edmund was escorted inside.

Nobody was looking Rollo’s way, but nevertheless it seemed wise to leave quickly. He was almost certain that the guards suspected the presence of an enemy within the town — which was why they had encouraged their lord to move inside the greater security of the abbey and its strong walls — but he doubted that they knew yet who this enemy was and what strength of men and arms threatened Lord Edmund and his faction.

Rollo smiled wryly. Unwittingly, Lord Edmund had, in seeking the safety of the abbey, done the very thing that Rollo wanted him to. Out here I am one man alone , he thought, armed with my sword and my knife, and my strength is not in might but in stealth . Inside the abbey, however, the situation would be different, for the odds would alter in his favour.

King William had explained the nature of the monks of Ely. Traditionally, the abbey had supported the House of Wessex. The last Wessex king, Edward, known as the Confessor, son of Aethelred, had spent his childhood in Ely and was educated by the monks; the link between the House of Wessex and the abbey of Ely was rumoured to endure still, although these days it was not safe to speak of it. King William, however, had eyes and ears in unlikely places, and he had told Rollo that Ely’s prior was a Wessex man receptive to any plot that would bring back the old regime. However, the king’s informants understood that many of the younger monks wanted no truck with the old ways. Feelings still ran high at the Conqueror’s crippling reprisals against the abbey in the aftermath of the 1071 rebellion. Had the monks given away the secret of the safe ways on to the island sooner, the abbey would have held on to its vast wealth. The more worldly monks recognized that there was no point in fighting the might of the Normans and the surest route to a secure, peaceful life was to support the king. Moreover, the huge new church now soaring up within the abbey walls was without doubt an indication that Ely would rise to the heights, provided no further murmurs of rebellion reached the ears of the king. .

King William had provided a name. If you require support , he’d said to Rollo, seek out the master of novices, whom they call Brother Mark .

Rollo silently repeated the name. Then he turned away and was swallowed by the crowds.

I spent much of the day shut up in our little room with Hrype and Edild. Hrype was very weak and still in pain — I told Edild the exact details of the draught I had given him, and she blanched and said he’d better not have any more pain relief for the time being — but he bore the agony bravely, and I did not hear him complain. Edild cared for him with a tenderness that spoke eloquently of her love for him. Now that I recognized what they felt for each other, I was amazed that I had never spotted it before. They must, I decided, have been very, very careful. In a little village like Aelf Fen, where everybody knows everyone else and we all watch one another like hawks over a cornfield, it was no mean feat to have been so discreet that not one word about them had ever been breathed.

It was left to me to prepare food and drink when Edild ordered it. She tried to make Hrype take a few mouthfuls to build up his strength but, although he tried, he barely ate a thing. He did, however, gulp down several cups of my honey mixture. Edild said it would do him good. I wished I had the wealth to go out and buy for him the sweetest, finest wine. It would have put heart in him far more effectively than warm water and honey.

He seemed better by twilight. Edild was sitting behind him, so that his head and shoulders rested in her lap. She held his hand in hers, and with her other hand she stroked his forehead. He was obviously enjoying it, and I had the distinct sense that she was putting her own strength into him to hasten his recovery.

It was hard to watch them. When, finally, Hrype muttered something to the effect that I must surely feel restless after a day closeted inside, I took the hint and announced I was going outside for some air and to stretch my legs.

I had told Rollo I would stay inside. While I appreciated that he had insisted on this because he was worried about me, it was not he who had been forced into the position of third party to a pair of lovers all day. As I pulled on my cloak and eased out of the little house, it was such a relief that I could have sung.

I didn’t have anywhere to go. I wondered where Rollo was. He had implied he had some important task to do, and I believed he meant he was going to leave the town. It did not occur to me to go and look for him. I felt instinctively that I would not find him unless he wanted me to.

I thought about Gewis. My family would make him welcome, I knew that very well. They would be desperate to ask about Edild, Hrype and me but I thought — I hoped — they would be too polite to press him if he did not volunteer anything. I was far from ready to go home, but I did not like to think of my parents and my granny worrying about me. I reassured myself by remembering that they knew Edild was with me. They were not to know that, far from carefully watching over her niece, my aunt lay with her secret lover enjoying a rare moment alone with him. They would never find out from me either. Edild had kept many of my secrets in the past, and now it was time for me to do the same for her.