Kate Sedley: The Prodigal Son

‘Anyway’ — John paused to swallow a draught of ale — ‘the news of my true paternity came as a shock to me. I also learned that I had an older half-brother, Roger. I was then about sixteen, a time of life when who you are seems very important. I immediately decided to leave Ireland and return to Wells to try and find you. My mother pleaded with me not to go, Colin cried and begged me to stay, and even my stepfather — who rarely interfered in matters concerning us two boys — told me that he thought I was being over-hasty. He advised me to sleep on it, to consider my mother’s feelings, but I wouldn’t listen. I was too upset. I needed to get away.

‘So I took ship at Waterford and arrived in Bristol that summer that the little Duke of York was born — I remember, because all the church bells were ringing in celebration — and from there I walked to Wells. But, of course, by then your mother was dead and I was told you were a novice at Glastonbury. But when I enquired for you at the abbey, one of the monks informed me that you’d never taken your vows and had left two years previously. No one could tell me where you were.’

‘That year I was in Cornwall,’ I said, thinking back to the affair at Trenowth and my subsequent, very reluctantly undertaken trip to Brittany. ‘So what happened next? To you, I mean.’

John Wedmore shrugged. ‘By that time I’d spent all my money. The monks at Glastonbury fed me and gave me a groat out of the poor fund to tide me on my way and I decided to go in search of my mother’s family, the Actons. I made a few enquiries — there were two of them living between Wells and Wedmore — but before I got to visit them, I fell in with Dame Audrea.’

I laughed. ‘How did you manage that? I wouldn’t have thought her the sort of woman one just “fell in” with.’

My half-brother grinned, acknowledging the point. ‘True, but miracles do happen. I just wandered into the kitchen at Croxcombe one day when she was there, and she took a fondness for me. Don’t ask me why. I don’t think even she knew the reason. She decided there and then to make me her page. Master Bellknapp tried to dissuade her, but she wouldn’t be moved. In fact, the more he told her that she was being foolish, the more obstinate she became.’

I nodded. ‘I can imagine that. A woman well set up in her own conceit was how she appeared to me. Not one to admit she was in the wrong.’

‘No.’ John’s face grew sombre. ‘And, indeed, in this instance she was proved right. I was a good and loyal servant to her until that night … That night when her own son came back to rob her.’

‘Tell me your version of events,’ I said. ‘I’ve heard George Applegarth’s.’

He swallowed the dregs of his ale and placed both elbows on the table. ‘I don’t suppose my version differs much from his. As you already know, Dame Audrea, Master Bellknapp, young Simon and most of the household officers had gone on a visit to Kewstoke Hall, the home of the daughter, Lady Chauntermerle and her husband. I’d stayed behind because I was suffering from toothache, and so had George Applegarth. He had broken his arm. The evening before the robbery, he was drinking fairly steadily in order to ease the pain, and at one point, I saw Jenny slip something into his ale, but attached no significance to it. Why should I? Like a good wife, she was giving him a potion to help him sleep. I nearly asked her for some myself. A pity I didn’t. She’d probably still be alive today.

‘I retired early. I had a truckle-bed in a passageway near the mistress’s room. Usually I slept like the dead, but that night my toothache woke me up after an hour or two. I got up and went down to the hall, intending to get myself some clove paste from the medicine chest, but as I reached the bottom of the stairs, I saw Jenny and there was a man with her. He had a sack with him, and the door to the cupboard where the silver was kept was standing open. Even though my wits were befuddled with pain, I could see what was going on. Just before they became aware of my presence, I’d heard her call him Anthony, so I guessed he was the elder son people talked about. The one who’d been turned out of the house two years before.’

‘Then they both saw you,’ I said. ‘And Anthony went for you with his knife.’

‘Yes. I heard Jenny scream as the blade went into my chest, and just before I lost consciousness, I saw him turn on her, stabbing her just as he’d done me. My last thought was that both of us were dead.’

‘But you weren’t. So, how did you survive?’

‘I couldn’t have been wounded in a very vital spot. I lost a lot of blood, but I eventually recovered consciousness. I was as weak as a fledgling bird, but I wasn’t dead, although I’d obviously been left as such. I was somewhere deep in Croxcombe woods, covered with leaves and branches, where, I suppose, I was meant to rot away until my flesh had been eaten off my bones by ants and animals. Until, if anyone found me, I was unrecognizable. I managed to get to my feet, although I could barely stand. I vaguely remember staggering about, sometimes falling over, but always picking myself up again. Then I was violently sick, but by that time, I was passing out once more. I can recall tripping over a tree root, but after that nothing … until I came to my senses in Hamo Gough’s hut.’

‘You knew him?’

‘Oh, yes. Not well, but by sight and to exchange the odd word with. He’d dressed my wound with cobwebs and bits of mouldy bread and bound my chest with a strip of linen, and as soon as I was sensible, he fed me slops of boiled oats and water … I actually thanked him for looking after me and asked if he’d let them know at the manor that I was safe.’ My half-brother laughed derisively. ‘Of course, it was then he told me that I was a hunted criminal — that half the countryside was out searching for me — on a charge of robbery and murder.’

‘You told him the truth?’

‘Naturally, but I might as well have held my breath. He didn’t believe me. He was sure, like everyone else, that I was the thief and murderer of Jenny Applegarth, and nothing I could say would convince him otherwise.’

‘How did he think you got stabbed yourself?’

‘I asked him that, and he said he supposed it was during a scuffle with Jenny. But I don’t think he ever reasoned it out properly. He had only one object, and that was to persuade me to tell him where I’d buried the stolen goods. He said he’d keep me captive until I did, so in the end, I told him that when I recovered and was sufficiently strong to leave the hut, I’d take him to the place and we’d share them between us. I said I couldn’t describe the spot exactly, but I’d know it again when I saw it.’

‘Hoping to escape in the meantime?’ I suggested.

John nodded. ‘But I knew I’d have to get my strength back first, before I could do anything. Also, I needed a place to lie low until the immediate hue and cry died down. I was a marked man. Only Jenny Applegarth knew the truth, and she was dead. Somehow, I had to get to Bristol and find a ship to take me back to Ireland. For several weeks, I pretended to be weaker than I really was, putting off the day when I’d have to overpower Hamo. When he left the hut, he tied me to the bed and locked the door behind him. If anyone approached the hut, he knew I wouldn’t call out for fear of being found and taken.’

‘So?’ I prompted as he stared sadly into his empty beaker. I hailed a potboy and ordered more ale.

‘So,’ my half-brother continued, perking up, ‘the inevitable happened. Hamo forgot to lock the door, and that on a day when he’d failed to tie me very securely. He must have been in a hurry for some reason. I managed to free myself and went. And I had absolutely no compunction in really turning thief and filling my pockets from his store of money. I was penniless and I had to get back to Ireland somehow.’