Candace Robb - The Cross Legged Knight

Wykeham cocked his head. ‘Why do you ask?’

‘The deeds of the properties Lady Pagnell is considering — ’ Owen was distracted by the sight of Thoresby rushing into the hall from the kitchen corridor, his elegant gown, the colour of lapis lazuli, flapping in the breeze of his passage. His long, bony face was pink with exertion, his eyes anxious.

‘Archer, come with me,’ Thoresby said breathlessly. He bowed to the gathered diners. ‘I have told Maeve to serve dinner. Do not wait for me. I shall come when I can.’

Owen bowed to Wykeham and followed Thoresby, who had slowed his pace and was breathing hard. To Owen’s surprise the archbishop led him out into the garden at the rear of the hall. They were joined by Brother Michaelo.

‘Michaelo is to be our sentinel while we talk,’ Thoresby said. ‘You must go to Poins. I heard his confession, but I have told him that in order to be absolved he must tell you all he knows.’

‘The seal of confession.’

Thoresby nodded. ‘May heard that I was with him. She went to him. When he understood that she feared him guilty, he cursed her.’

‘Did he confess to her? Can we learn the truth from her?’

‘From May we might learn her truth, but not his. Go to him. He kept silent to protect her. Perhaps now that he knows she believed him a murderer he will speak.’

Or decide to slip away, succumb to the pain and, by succumbing, escape it. Owen crossed himself and prayed for God’s grace.

Lucie offered Edgar a cup of ale, which he accepted with an embarrassed smile.

‘Is it Matthew you fear?’

The mere mention of the man seemed to deepen the shadows beneath Edgar’s eyes. ‘I have not enjoyed a night of sleep while he has shared my bed for the nightmares his presence inspires. Even in slumber there is such an anger within him.’

Lucie listened while thinking Jasper must be at the tavern by now. Perhaps he and Tom Merchet had returned to the yard.

‘Do you think Matthew capable of setting the fire? Or of murder?’

Edgar put down his cup with a clatter. ‘That is for God to judge, Mistress Wilton. I know only what I have told you.’

‘Can you guess what so angers him?’

‘It would be easier to point out what does not. The smallest inconvenience puts him in a temper. He is critical of everything in my master and mistress’s household. His loyalty is with Lady Pagnell. He dislikes the Ferribys.’

‘Including the boys?’

‘Them most of all.’ Edgar’s eyes widened and he jerked towards the window. ‘I heard a cry.’

Lucie rose with care, her exhaustion dizzying. Blessed Mother, protect my family .

Edgar hurried towards the front door. ‘I must go.’

‘Stay. You must have an escort.’

Someone pushed open the door from which Jasper had departed as Edgar vanished out of the front door. Jasper led a dishevelled boy into the room. Alisoun followed them, bow in hand. Lucie had forgotten that the girl was a skilled archer. The boy lifted his head and Lucie cried out.

‘John Ferriby!’ She ran back to the front door. ‘Edgar! Wait!’ She turned to Jasper. ‘You must find Edgar.’

Jasper was already at the door, running out into the night.

Lucie sank down, cupping her face in her hands.

Magda was at the bedside, cradling Poins’s head in one hand, with the other helping him sip from a shallow cup. She saw Owen, but did not speak until she had settled Poins back on the pillow. ‘What he has drunk will keep him wakeful for a good while,’ she said, ‘though he wishes for nothing so much as sleep.’

‘Were you in here with him and May?’

‘Nay. Magda sat without, but she could hear him forcing his voice to shout at the maid. Hear him now if thou wilt, for tomorrow he’ll not be able to speak for the swelling in his throat. Thou shouldst prop him up with more cushions so that he has the breath for speech.’

Poins groaned as Owen arranged cushions beneath his upper back, though he made no more complaint. When Owen settled beside the bed, Poins regarded him with keener eyes than he had the day before, and almost at once he spoke. ‘I meant to protect her,’ he rasped.

‘Who?’

‘May.’

‘We already know her part. She has told us of her failing sight, Cisotta’s remedy.’

‘And my part?’

‘Not yours. She said she did not know why you were in the undercroft.’

Poins dropped his gaze to his swollen fingers, curling and uncurling them. Magda handed Owen some warm honeyed water to offer him. He took a sip and then lay back for a moment, catching his breath at the pressure against his blistered back, though only cushions touched it. Owen held the cup.

‘I offered Cisotta … my mistress’s cast-off gloves … but she wanted more … to come to the house.’ Owen did not interrupt Poins’s pause for breath. ‘She asked for hides … I promised her some … if she would come that night.’ He took a deep breath.

‘Why did you do this?’

‘May was patient with our … difficult mistress … She made it … easier … for Bolton and me. I wanted to … make it up to her.’ Sweat soaked Poins’s bandages.

‘Where were the hides?’

‘Just inside the undercroft door. I left it unlocked. Told Cisotta to … take them … as she left.’

Owen helped Poins sip the water.

‘And what happened?’ he asked when Poins’s breathing seemed easier.

‘I heard something … Too long after Cisotta left … Went down to check … lock the door. There was smoke.’ He closed his eyes, shook his head slowly when Owen offered him water. ‘Inside there was a fire … not big yet … I saw … her golden hair …’ — his voice broke — ‘near the flames … fanned out.’ He closed his eyes and shivered. ‘A man pushed me aside … pulled the barrel down on me.’ Poins gave a rough sob. ‘I screamed… Flames licked at her … She never moved … never a sound … Beautiful Cisotta.’ He wept.

Owen leaned close, whispered, ‘Tell me what you see, Poins.’

‘For a moment — something. A figure.’

‘Clerk’s gown? Something shorter?’

Poins coughed, shook his head. ‘Water.’

Owen helped him again, then asked, ‘Is that all you can remember?’

Poins slowly nodded. ‘I said nothing because … I did not want … May blamed.’

‘I understand.’

‘Did it work? Can she see now?’

Owen could not bring himself to tell Poins how little all his suffering had helped May. ‘More clearly. You must rest.’

‘I could not move,’ Poins sobbed. ‘I could not save her.’

‘She was dead before you reached the undercroft, Poins. There was nothing you could have done.’

‘I should have … taken the hides … to her … I was frightened. If I did not … hand them to her … I could say I knew … nothing … of them.’

Owen thanked Poins and left his side, feeling his own breath shallow and ragged. So much suffering for so little. Such good intentions ended in horror. He crossed himself as he left the room and prayed for understanding. It seemed a brutal punishment for such insignificant transgressions.

Alisoun withdrew to the table and began to unstring her bow.

John Ferriby stood in the centre of the hall, his eyes searching for something other than Lucie to light on. One of his leggings pooled round his ankle, the flushed, dimpled knee like that of a baby. ‘I meant no harm,’ he said.

‘Gwenllian woke and saw him creeping along the wall,’ Alisoun said in a matter-of-fact tone, not taking her eyes off the string she was winding.

‘Go up to her and tell her it was nothing,’ Lucie said.

‘But I’m — ’