Candace Robb - The Riddle Of St Leonard's

Someone lifted him and carried him into a bright place. Wulfstan’s eyes could not yet open before the Divine Light, but his heart was filled with joy to know that he had reached his Heavenly reward.

By the time Bess arrived at St Leonard’s, Barker was once more in charge of the gate. ‘Do you remember my uncle, Julian Taverner?’

Barker brushed off the seat of a chair, beckoned Bess to sit. ‘Master Taverner. He was a man respected all, no matter their station.’

‘He did that, Barker,’ Bess said as she settled down. ‘And he was a fair man, was he not?’

‘Oh, aye.’

Bess kept her eyes downcast as she said, ‘He left me with a delicate problem, my uncle.’ Now she peered up, pretending embarrassment.

The man’s bulbous nose twitched. ‘Oh, aye?’

‘As he was dying, he said to me, “Swear you will take care of her.”’

‘Who?’

Bess threw up her hands. ‘There. You see the problem. He died without breathing her name. But I have a thought it might have been his — his leman. And, well, you can see the care I must take in enquiring about her. I must avoid those who might talk to others afterwards. Ruin a good woman’s name.’

Barker made a sympathetic face.

‘Still, I feel a duty to find her and discover what I might do. What needs doing. And I thought — I hoped that you might have seen him walk out now and then. I know you would not be gatekeeper were you not a trustworthy, discreet man, and yet one who notices .’

Barker pulled himself up to his full height. ‘’Tis a delicate matter indeed, Mistress Merchet. And you are a good woman to wish to see justice done. Many would not feel so obliged.’

‘I would not think of ignoring my uncle’s last request.’

‘Surely. He had a honeyed tongue, your uncle. Any of the women might have been with him one time or another.’

‘Were there none he saw more than others?’

‘That would be Felice Mawdeleyn. And, well, there was a lay sister of late. But Mistress Mawdeleyn and your uncle were longtime friends.’

‘Will Mawdeleyn’s wife?’

‘Aye, the very same.’ Barker shook his head. ‘Will should have beaten her when she was contrary. ’Tis ever the problem.’

Bess bit her tongue. She had better things to do than argue with a thick-headed man. ‘And one of the lay sisters, you said? Who was that, Barker?’ Knowing of Honoria’s attachment to her uncle, Bess asked the question as a test, to see whether the man’s information was accurate. Many a gossip filled in the gaps in their knowledge with rumour.

Barker frowned and rubbed his shoulder. ‘I should say no more, Mistress Merchet. Felice Mawdeleyn is more likely to be the one you want, eh?’

Very likely. Felice was the sort to inspire confidence. Yes, it was very likely. Still. ‘You can trust me, Barker. I have no reason to make public my uncle’s sins.’

‘True enough. ’Twas Anneys, the one who has disappeared.’

Bess almost nodded, so certain had she been about what he would say. It took a moment to realise he had not said it. ‘Anneys. Not Honoria de Staines?’

‘Anneys. He was fond of Honoria, but like a daughter.’

‘How do you know?’

The chest puffed up. ‘A man can tell such things of another man, to be sure.’

‘You say Anneys disappeared?’

‘Aye. Last night. With the Ffulford child.’

Well. That would keep Owen occupied for the day. ‘Bless you, Barker. You have been most kind to me. Come to the tavern some evening and we shall treat you well.’ She walked slowly away, searching her memory for all she knew of Felice Mawdeleyn. Of Anneys she knew nothing. But Anneys was Owen’s problem now.

Owen found Honoria de Staines folding laundry at a table outside a curtained alcove in the Barnhous. She nodded to him, put a finger to her lips and opened the curtain to show him three sleeping infants.

‘God go with you, Captain Archer,’ she said softly as she stepped away from the curtain. ‘What would you ask me today?’

He chose first to broach the unpleasant topic. ‘Forgive me, Mistress Staines, but I must know whether the late mayor, William Savage, spoke the truth when he claimed you were sleeping with corrodians at this hospital.’

The pretty woman coloured. ‘William Savage said that?’ She snapped the blanket she was folding. ‘So that was his revenge.’

‘Revenge?’

‘Let us speak of William Savage, Captain.’ Honoria placed the blanket on the table and took time to smooth it. When she turned to Owen, her eyes glittered with emotion. ‘God forgive me for speaking ill of the dead, but William Savage played false with me. Oh, at first he was generous and kind, assisted me in my petition to work here as a lay sister. And then he demanded I lie with him. I refused.’ She glared at Owen’s questioning look. ‘For fear of his wife, Marion, Captain.’

‘Go on.’

‘But she had already condemned me. She is a woman who believes the worst of everyone, and she was certain that he helped me because he had bedded me. She ordered him to make amends by purchasing a corrody for her mother so that she might be free of her.’

‘How do you know this?’

‘He told me. And he said she meant to blacken my name at the hospital. Can you guess why he told me, Captain? So that I might agree to enjoy the sin for which I was to be condemned.’ She was finding it difficult to keep her voice low.

An ugly story, if true. ‘Did you tell anyone of this?’

‘Don Cuthbert. He believed me.’

Easy enough to confirm. ‘And you had no relations with the corrodians?’

Honoria bristled. ‘I am not a fool, Captain. I wished to stay here.’

One of her charges had begun to whimper. She disappeared through the curtains, emerged rocking a boy of Hugh’s age in her arms.

‘Is that all, Captain?’ Her eyes were cold.

‘Just one thing more. Julian Taverner’s last illness. Old Nate mentioned a foul-smelling physick.’

‘There was one with a bitter taste. Master Taverner complained of it.’

‘It was one of the physicks Mistress Merchet brought?’

‘I could not swear to it, Captain. Anneys had charge of his care. And now if you will excuse me, I must change this little one.’

‘God go with you, Mistress Staines.’

Owen strode away with mixed feelings. A part of him pitied her; he knew that men treated women so. But he would have thought such a man as Savage above that. Only a man who had earned his comrades’ respect attained a position as mayor. Or was Owen naïve? Even so, why would Savage risk spreading a rumour that could return to bite him?

It was past midday by the time Bess made her way up Spen Lane towards Mawdeleyn’s house, and a good thing it was that time or she might not have seen the black-robed monk slumped in the doorway. But with the sun overhead he lay in a pool of light, his hood pulled up to shield his eyes. It was not the sort of thing Benedictines did, sleep in doorways. And why should they with such a lovely abbey? Still, here he was. Bess stepped closer, then backed up when she caught the unmistakable odour of pestilence. The monk had sensed her presence and struggled to sit up. As he clutched the doorway, his hood fell back.

‘Brother Wulfstan!’ Bess pressed her scented sachet to her nose and mouth and crept forward.

Wulfstan gazed round, confused. ‘I am yet on mortal soil?’

Bess knelt down, touched Wulfstan’s forehead with the back of her free hand. He was on fire. Sweet Heaven, how was she to get him to the abbey?

She stood up, looked round. The normally busy street was deserted. No doubt all feared walking past the monk in the doorway. Still, it was disgraceful, with churches to either side, that no man of God had offered help or sought it for him. ‘I am going to find a horse or a cart, Brother Wulfstan. I shall return quickly.’