Alys Clare - Fortune Like the Moon

* * *

He had decided not to arrive at the abbey until he had found out what people were saying about the murder. Discovered what conclusions public opinion was forming, seen if Richard was right about the blame being thrown on to one of these damned released prisoners. Josse had to admit, it did seem a likely answer. It’d be what he’d have thought, had he not just been promoted to investigating agent and therefore not permitted such rash and shallow judgement.

Tonbridge was much as he remembered it from a brief visit a decade or more ago, except that it was busier and more populous. The fine castle, up there on the rise overlooking the Medway crossing, was still held by the family of the man who had founded it: Richard, Lord of Bienfaite and of Orbec, had been the great-grandson of Richard, Duke of Normandy, and had fought beside his cousin William of Normandy at the Battle of Hastings. His reward, when William ascended the throne, was generous indeed; the castles of Tonbridge and of Clare, in the county of Suffolk, were but the pickings of some two hundred English manors.

Either from a wish to be stylish or from lack of imagination, the family were enthusiastic followers of the new fashion of calling each successive eldest son by his father’s name; an unenlightened stranger coming to Tonbridge and wishing to enquire of its lord could be fairly safe in asking after Richard. Richard FitzRoger, the current lord, had inherited from his father in 1183; now, six years on, Josse observed, there were distinct signs that the family continued to flourish.

The traffic thickened as he entered the town. A poorly packed mule train had disgorged the contents of a parcel of what looked and smelt like badly tanned skins, and the two youngsters who appeared to be in charge were rapidly losing control of their mules and their tempers. Picking a way round the confusion, Josse wondered how quickly order would be restored, and what penalty the lads would have to pay for the chaos. Perhaps they’d be lucky, and escape with a couple of clips round the ear.

The up side of having a powerful family as lords of the region meant that law and order were, in general, better maintained here than in some less well-policed areas of the kingdom. Josse would have liked to know what the lord and his officials made of the murder up at Hawkenlye. Were they conducting investigations of their own? Would it be better, as far as Josse was concerned, to keep his own counsel, and disguise the fact that he came directly from the new king?

Yes, he decided. Undoubtedly it would. He could think of nothing more guaranteed to arouse the resentment and animosity of the lord and master of Tonbridge Castle than the arrival of some usurper who thought he knew more about local characters and conditions than did a man born and bred there. A foreign usurper, to boot — Josse had no illusions that having an English mother would carry much weight around here.

He adopted his usual practice when travelling, and approached the inn with the most comings and goings. Situated some fifty or sixty paces back from the river, the tall gates that gave on to the street stood wide open, and Josse could see through to the yard within. There were signs that the row of stables was in the process of being mucked out; although it was possibly a little late in the day, at least the inn servants were getting round to it in the end.

A thin-faced man carrying a well-loaded hayfork gave a preoccupied nod when Josse enquired about lodgings. Putting down the fork and taking Josse’s horse, the man directed Josse to a doorway across the yard, its stone step worn into a dip by the passage of thousands of pairs of feet. Inside, in a long, stone-flagged passageway, a well-endowed woman, fractionally the wrong side of middle age, was shouting orders to two awestruck girls.

‘… and don’t take all day about it, I’ve plenty for you to do down here! Yes?’

Realising that the ‘Yes?’ was directed at him, Josse said, ‘I believe you may be able to offer me a room for the night and a meal, madam?’

She looked him up and down. ‘Not from these parts, are you?’

‘No.’ He wondered how she knew. He didn’t often speak English, but he was pretty sure he didn’t have a strong accent.

‘Thought not.’ She was nodding as if in self-congratulation. Pointing a work-reddened hand at his tunic, she said, ‘We don’t get dyes bright as that hereabouts, that’s for sure, even what with us being so close to London and the pretty taste of its people.’ She raised sharp, light-brown eyes to his face. ‘You’ve been travelling in the south, I’d say.’

‘You’d say right.’ He smoothed his fingers over the embroidered border. ‘I’m rather pleased with the work myself.’

‘Hm.’ She was looking askance at him, as if an appreciation of a nice piece of cloth was not entirely manly. ‘Well, I’ve lodgings, aye. You pay up front, mind, I’ll not have foreigners disappearing at first light and vanishing into the blue with their bills unpaid!’

Foreigner. There, he’d been right. He smiled, and reached for his purse. ‘How much do you want?’

* * *

His room was adequate, although there were two more narrow cots in it; if the inn opened its doors to any more guests that night, he’d be sharing. Not that it bothered him greatly. As long as they didn’t snore.

One of the girls brought him a bowl and a jug of warm water — you couldn’t have called it hot — and he set about removing the dust of the road. Then, in view of the fact that he’d been travelling continuously for several days, he allowed himself the luxury of an hour’s sleep. He had the soldier’s knack of being able to switch off almost at will, which was just as well since the inn was full of the racket of a bustling, busy evening, and the road outside seemed to be inhabited by carts with squeaky wheels and people who didn’t know how to speak below a bellow.

He woke up feeling much better. Mind alert and eager, he went down to start mingling with the locals.

* * *

‘Makes no sense, to my mind, this mass release of robbers, thugs, rapists and that. Aye, thank you, sir, I don’t mind if I do.’ Responding to Josse’s enquiring glance and the finger pointing at the empty ale mug, the man pushed it towards the tap boy for a refill. He was the first person Josse had got into conversation with, and hadn’t needed much encouragement to start talking. Lubricating him with a second draught of ale might elicit a few interesting revelations.

‘See, like I told my missus,’ the man leaned back against the wall, settling himself comfortably as if preparing for a long session, ‘it’s just no good expecting people to change, now, is it? I mean, once a thief, always a thief, that’s my motto.’

‘Well, that’s one way of looking at it,’ Josse conceded. ‘But we’re talking about murder, here, aren’t we? Is it really certain that the nun was killed by a released prisoner, when most of those released were imprisoned for lesser crimes? Violation of the forestry laws, that’s what I’d heard.’

The man looked at him pityingly. ‘I’d like to know who else’d have done such a foul deed. I mean, stands to reason, doesn’t it?’

‘Yes, I suppose so,’ Josse replied, who didn’t suppose anything of the sort.

‘You tell me what else is more likely,’ the man went on, warming to his theme, ‘than that one of them ruffians feels his sudden freedom going to his head — and his other bits, if you get my meaning’ — he shot a sly sideways glance at Josse, and placed a finger alongside his nose — ‘and, coming across some young thing in a habit out walking by herself in the middle of the night, he can’t resist launching himself on her, pulling up her skirts, revealing all that smooth young flesh, them plump white thighs, then having his wicked way with her.’ The man’s eyes were bulging with lust, and the protuberant Adam’s apple in his scrawny neck moved up and down swiftly as he swallowed a couple of times. ‘Then, when she starts screaming out for help, he slits her throat, both to shut her up and so’s she won’t be able to point the finger of blame at him. There you are, sir, that’s what happened.’ He took another long swig of ale, burped, and added, ‘Hexactly that.’