Edward Marston - The Foxes of Warwick

‘You have swords and lances.’

Henry was firm. ‘They will not be used.’

‘Then try a more cunning way,’ said Trouville, determined not to balk. ‘Ask for private conference with the bishop. Gain us admission to the abbey, just you and me. Engage the bishop in parley. While you and he debate, I will slip away and find where they have hidden Boio, then I will spirit him out of the building before they can stop me.’ He bared his teeth in a wolfish grin.

‘What do you think of my plan?’

‘I reject it out of hand.’

‘But why, my lord?’

Trouville’s annoyance was increased tenfold by a loud burst of laughter. His own men-at-arms seemed to be mocking him. He drew his sword and swung round to chastise them, only to realise that they were not laughing at him at all.

‘Look, my lord,’ said one of them, pointing. ‘A performing bear.’

Ursa and the dwarf were back in the marketplace.

It was a long ride to Thorkell’s manor house but Golde was glad to get away from the castle and from the uncomfortable friendship of the lady Marguerite. Four of Ralph’s men-at-arms accompanied her and Gervase while the remainder rode off to Coventry with their master. Gervase was hoping that Golde might find a way to draw confidences out of Asmoth but her value was shown as soon as they arrived at the house and met Thorkell of Warwick.

Hearing that she was the daughter of a dispossessed thegn, the old man treated her with immediate respect and invited both Golde and Gervase into his home.

The visitors went into the hall of the building, a room of generous proportions with a suspended floor made of thick oaken planks. A fire was crackling in the middle of the hall and smoke rose up towards the hole in the apex of the pitched roof. The whole house exuded a sense of wealth and Saxon tradition. Golde felt immediately at home. Thorkell waved them to seats but remained standing himself.

‘Why have you come?’ he asked.

‘To bring you news of Boio,’ said Gervase.

‘He has been captured?’

‘No, my lord.’

‘Thank God for that!’ said the other.

‘He went to the abbey and sought sanctuary. I thought that you would be glad to know that.’

‘I am, Master Bret. You have my thanks.’

‘There is more news that you should hear.’

Gervase told him about the evidence which Ralph extracted from Warin the Forester and how Grimketel’s crucial testimony against the blacksmith had been false. Thorkell was fascinated, taking particular pleasure from the news that Adam Reynard had been unmasked as a man who incited others to poach deer on his behalf. At a stroke, one of his rivals in the property dispute had been removed.

‘When the lord Henry learns of this,’ he said, ‘Adam Reynard will be lucky to hold on to his life, let alone his land. These are glad tidings. But how did Boio manage to get as far as Coventry without being seen? Can you tell me that?’

‘No, my lord,’ said Gervase discreetly, careful to make no mention of Asmoth. ‘The fact is that he is at the abbey and, I hope, quite safe for the moment. What concerns me is his future.’

‘But he will surely be exonerated?’

‘Will he?’

‘You have this forester’s word. Grimketel gave false evidence.

Boio is innocent of this murder. The real killer must be caught and brought to judgement. Martin’s death must be answered.’

‘That may not be enough to assuage the lord Henry’s fury. Boio escaped from his castle and outwitted all his pursuers. That still rankles. Even if no murder charge can be proved against the blacksmith and even if the real killer is caught, the lord Henry may well want to wreak his revenge in some way.’

‘That is true,’ said Thorkell.

‘It is another reason why we came to you, my lord,’ said Gervase.

‘To crave a boon on Boio’s behalf. He needs your help.’

‘Tell me what I must do,’ volunteered the other.

‘Ride to the abbey. Your presence may deter the lord Henry from any precipitate action. You might even be admitted to speak with Boio himself. That would bring him immense comfort.’

‘To me as well. I’ll do it.’

‘There is a larger favour to ask, my lord.’

‘Well?’

‘We must prepare for contingencies.’

‘I am used to doing that,’ said Thorkell with a wistful smile.

‘That is why I still have my home and my estates.’ He turned to Golde. ‘Your father was not so fortunate. He was stripped of his land.’

‘We survived,’ she said quietly.

‘But not in the way you deserved, my lady. I had the sense to come to composition with the Normans.’

‘I have done that myself now. I have married one of them.’

‘Your husband is a fortunate man. And a courageous one if he is ready to brave the lord Henry’s rage in order to help Boio. But,’ he said, turning back to Gervase, ‘what is this larger favour you ask?’

‘It is just a vague notion at this point.’

‘Go on.’

‘Whatever happens,’ said Gervase, ‘it may not be wise for Boio to remain in Warwickshire. He must get away from here and start a new life somewhere else. A blacksmith’s skills are always in demand.’

‘Say no more,’ interrupted Thorkell. ‘I anticipate you. My answer is that I do have friends in distant counties who would give Boio a welcome if he bore a letter from me. And I would willingly write it.’‘Thank you, my lord.’

‘But how would we get Boio away?’

‘Golde’s husband has promised to look into that.’

‘Then this is what I will do,’ said Thorkell. ‘Write a letter then ride to Coventry to ensure that the lord Henry does not violate the rules of sanctuary. A spare horse will travel with us. If it is necessary to smuggle Boio away, horse and letter may guarantee him a future life.’

‘He could ask no more from you, my lord.’

‘Nor I from you, Master Bret. You have been a true friend.’

‘There is one last thing I must tell you in the name of friendship.’

‘What is it?’

‘Brace yourself,’ said Gervase, ‘for it may come as an unpleasant shock. Thanks to Golde, we have learned enough about your reeve to make certain deductions.’

‘Deductions?’

‘I fear Martin Reynard was betraying you.’

‘Never! He was diligent in my service.’

‘But even more diligent in the pay of the lord Henry.’

‘Martin was thrown out of the castle in disgrace.’

‘That was merely a ruse,’ explained Gervase. ‘It convinced you that he was available for hire at a time when your own reeve had died. Did not that seem an odd coincidence? Finding a new man so soon after losing his predecessor? Yes,’ said Gervase, seeing Thorkell’s disbelief, ‘I know that you will hate to accept that you were beguiled. But answer me this, my lord. When he worked for you did the reeve ever go back to the castle?’

‘Never! He swore that he loathed the place.’

‘Golde may tell you differently.’

‘I had it from the lips of the lady Adela herself,’ she confirmed.

‘Martin Reynard went back to the castle quite regularly. She saw your reeve with her husband long after he had been dismissed.’

Thorkell was stung by the news. The realisation that he might have been duped made him so angry that he stamped up and down the hall and cursed himself under his breath for his gullibility. He stopped in front of Gervase and spoke with an edge of despair in his voice.

‘Tell me that it is not true!’

‘We see no other explanation.’

‘Martin Reynard! But I trusted the man.’

‘That is why he was placed here,’ argued Gervase, ‘as a spy in your camp. He learned every detail about the administration of your lands and the extent of your wealth. I fear that we both know why the lord Henry was so eager to have such intelligence.’