Candace Robb - The Riddle Of St Leonard's

‘Would Walter not have noticed the disturbed earth?’

‘They were buried deep. Perhaps it was done before the spring planting, when most of the bed would have been bare, perhaps the soil just turned over for planting. He may have seeded over them in spring. Mayhap the entire set was buried here and the thief missed these when removing the others.’

‘Which means he might return.’

Owen would like that. ‘Can you spare a man to watch the house?’

‘Nay. But I might find a lad to do it.’

‘Good.’ Owen rose, walked over to the garden door. ‘One building behind has a window facing the garden. Who lives there?’

Geoffrey joined Owen in the doorway, peered out. ‘Widow Darrow and her crippled son.’

‘Who lives next door? Two windows face this garden.’

‘Master Saurian, the physician.’

‘Indeed?’

As evening shadows spread in the garden, Lucie put aside her work, drew Owen outside. ‘I cannot bear the silence. Come. Walk with me and tell me what you learned today about the child and the altar cloth.’ She led him down the path between the lavender and the santolina.

But the beauty of the garden was lost on Owen at that moment. He, too, found the evenings too quiet. He put his arm round Lucie, pulled her close. ‘Shall we send for the children?’

Lucie pressed her head against his shoulder for a moment. ‘How lovely if it were that simple. But three children died in the city today. And they say animals are falling in the fields round us. It is not yet time to bring Gwenllian and Hugh home.’

‘I had not heard about the beasts.’

‘Tell me of your day. Speak of anything but the sickness.’

Owen began with Alisoun and continued with the treasures in Walter’s garden. ‘Saurian the physician is often at the hospital, is he not?’

‘Yes. And he is a gossip. He would be delighted to tell you all he knew were he in the city. But he accompanied the master of Davy Hall to his manor when the pestilence reached the city.’

A convenient escape, and perhaps for more than the obvious reason. ‘How is his business?’

‘His-’ Lucie suddenly stopped, turned to Owen. ‘You think he might be the thief?’

‘Is it possible?’

A little laugh. ‘Only if he is remarkably greedy and stupid. What of the Yorkshire family who sponsored Judith Ffulford? Is there truly no record of their name?’

‘They paid well for their anonymity.’

‘They could not be from York then. Someone would remember them.’

‘I have not asked all at the hospital.’

Lucie bent to pet Melisende. ‘I would not bother. Doubtless the children were moved far from their home because they were an embarrassment.’

That left Owen with something to ponder.

This time Alisoun knew in her dream that she must awaken, that it was not her mother leaning over her. Her heart racing, she woke. The figure stood at the foot of her pallet. Alisoun lay very still, trying to hold her breath. Was it him? The figure wavered because a wind had the night sister’s light flickering. Alisoun could see only that it was a tall figure in a dark hooded gown. It might be almost anyone at the spital — a canon or lay brother, a sister or lay sister. Or the man from the farm might have crept in in disguise, which seemed most likely to Alisoun. Who else had reason to frighten her? He meant to hurt her as she had hurt him. And he was looking for the treasures she had buried.

Alisoun closed her eyes, then opened them just enough to catch any movement through her lashes.

While she waited she prayed.

At last the watcher moved. Alisoun opened her eyes. He had his back to her. She slipped on to the floor and began to crawl after him. It was difficult watching him and picking her way carefully among the pallets. She lost sight of him. He must have made it to the doorway to the chapel stairs. She rose to a crouch and hurried towards the doorway, heard footsteps above her, started up the uneven stone steps, tripped on her hem.

Owen was still lingering over his early morning bread and cheese when Kate opened the door to a messenger from St Leonard’s. Owen heard the lad asking for him. Fearing it was bad news, he hurried over.

‘God go with you, Captain. Dame Beatrice prays you to come to her as soon as you are able. Alisoun Ffulford has been injured.’

‘What has that to do with me?’

‘Dame Beatrice begs you to hurry.’

Owen arrived to chaos. A child had fainted in the midst of play and though they had hurried him off to the infirmary it had frightened the rest of the children who cried and clung to the skirts of the sisters. Dame Beatrice had a cluster of children about her.

‘ Benedicte , Captain,’ she gasped. ‘I pray you, go to the room by the chapel. The child awaits you there.’ She bent down to the children clutching at her skirts.

Don Cuthbert hurried from the room to greet Owen.

‘What are you doing here?’ Owen asked.

‘The sisters are busy with the children and the sick. But after what happened last night Dame Beatrice rightly thought the child should be guarded.’

Alisoun sat in the middle of the room, head down, hugging herself. She showed no sign of injury.

‘What happened? What did Alisoun do?’

Cuthbert glanced back at the child. ‘That is for her to tell you, Captain. I know only that she was found at the bottom of the chapel steps just before dawn with a swelling behind her ear that was first feared to be a boil.’ He crossed himself. ‘But it is merely a bruise, thanks be to God. The child says she tried to follow someone who had awakened her and she tripped in her haste on the stairs.’

‘Someone awakened her?’

‘She says they stood over her as she slept, and when she woke they ran — a fantastic story.’

‘A child telling tales. Why was I sent for?’

‘The child asked for you.’

Owen wondered for what sin he was being punished. ‘I suppose you must leave us alone.’

Cuthbert began to leave the room.

‘Stay just without, if you will,’ Owen requested. ‘I want no one to overhear.’

‘Gladly.’

Owen walked over to the child, who had not looked up from her examination of the floor since he’d arrived. ‘Alisoun?’

Still looking down at the floor, the child said sullenly, ‘Dame Beatrice says I should trust you.’

‘I see.’ Pulling a bench over so that he might sit opposite her, Owen sank down, crossed his arms. Still she stared at the floor. ‘Are you likely to listen to her?’

A deep breath. ‘I wounded the man who stole my horse.’

‘Ah. What else might you tell me?’

As if a dam had been opened, the child told Owen of the night she had run from her uncle’s house and found the man in the barn. ‘I shot him in the arm and the leg, I think.’

‘With your bow?’

Alisoun nodded. ‘Then I ran.’

Owen did not speak at once, thinking what might have happened to the child had she been a poor aim. But what had this to do with her accident?

His silence drew her eyes up to his. ‘Yesterday you were full of questions.’

It was his first view of a bruised eye. ‘What happened last night?’

‘I tripped on the steps.’

‘But your eye.’

‘I fell forward, didn’t I?’

‘Someone watched you?’

‘He wants revenge.’

‘Are you saying the man you injured was here last night?’

‘And the night before. I hate him.’

Hatred took time to develop. ‘You have seen him before.’

‘Did the Riverwoman tell him I was here?’

‘I am certain that she did not.’

The child sighed, looked down at her hands which were twisting a handful of the fabric of her skirt. ‘He took my bag.’