Edward Marston - The Serpents of Harbledown

“The girl died from snakebite.”

“Who told you that?”

“It is medical opinion,” said Gervase. “Bertha was examined by one Helto the Doctor. He was adamant that she had been killed by the venom of a snake.”

Martin was outraged. “Is that what Helto said ?”

“Apparently.”

“Then he was lying.”

Ralph Delchard was peeved. When he dispatched Canon Hubert into the cathedral precinct that morning, he thought he had seen the last of him for that day. Since his colleague had sung the praises of Lanfranc all the way from Winchester, it was a reasonable assumption that he would not stir from the proximity of the archbishop until it was unavoidable. Yet there he was, red with indignation, banging on the door of Osbern’s house and interrupting what had been for Ralph and Golde an idyllic few hours.

Having seen the sights of Canterbury, they returned to Burgate Ward to find that the baby had just awoken. A servant girl was rocking the child in his crib but Golde swiftly took over the duties of surrogate mother. With Ralph watching fondly over her shoulder, she cooed and hummed the baby slowly back to sleep.

It was then that the unwelcome Hubert arrived. He was shown into the solar.

“Whatever are you doing here?” demanded Ralph.

“I need something.”

“Could it not wait until morning?”

“No, my lord.”

“Why not?”

“Because it concerns tomorrow’s deliberations.”

“The property in Fordwich?”

“Even so,” said Hubert. “The relevant documents are in Gervase’s satchel. I wish to study them with care before we sit in judgement on the case.”

“For what reason?”

“I need to be well prepared.”

“Then why did you not ask Gervase for those documents at an earlier stage? You have had many opportunities.”

“I want them now, my lord. That is all that matters.”

“But it is not, Hubert,” countered the other. “You go into the priory without the slightest interest in that case. Then you come charging out in search of material relating to it. What brought about this sudden conversion?”

“Please hand the documents over. It is all I ask.”

“They are in Gervase’s possession and he alone can pass them on to you. Like me, I am sure, he will first want to dig below the surface of your request.”

“What do you mean?”

“May I speak bluntly?”

“You have always done so before,” said Hubert ruefully.

“Who is going to read these confidential documents?”

“I am, my lord.”

“No other eyes?”

“Brother Simon might usefully peruse them as well.”

“So might someone else,” said Ralph, standing close to bark his accusation in the other’s face. “Someone in rather higher authority than our humble scribe. Have you been sent here on an errand by Archbishop Lanfranc?”

Hubert turned puce. “No, my lord!” he exclaimed.

“Doing a favour for an old friend? Serving the head of the English Church? Sniffing your way to preferment?”

“These are gross calumnies!”

“Are they?” pressed Ralph. “The cathedral lays claim to land that is held by the abbey. It would advantage Lanfranc greatly to have sight of the evidence we have collected and the questions we have agreed to put to him. I’ll not stand by and condone such vile injustice.”

“The vileness lies in your charges against me.”

“Then defend yourself.”

“I hoped that my record would to that for me,” said Hubert with quivering indignation. “Impartiality has been my touchstone throughout. We have sat in commission together in Wiltshire, in Essex, in Herefordshire and in Yorkshire. Have you ever seen one hint of prejudice in me, my lord? Can you recall one instance when I did not embrace and embody judicial independence?”

“No,” admitted Ralph. “Not one.”

“Then why insult me with such an accusation now?”

“Because a new element exists. Friendship with one of the claimants. By rights, you should not act as judge in this case.

You should declare an interest and withdraw.”

Hubert struck a dignified pose. “My only interest is in securing a just and fair settlement,” he said. “Were my own mother to appear before us, I would not yield to promptings of affection. It is so with Archbishop Lanfranc. Heaven forfend! Even if I did try to assist his case, I could not materially influence the outcome.

Mine is but one voice. You and Gervase together can shout me down.”

It was a sound argument. Ralph scratched his head and moved away for a moment to ponder. When he came back to Hubert, his tone was more conciliatory.

“I may have spoken too hastily,” he conceded.

“Hastily and hurtfully, my lord.”

“We have to be on guard at all times.”

“From me ? Your fellow commissioner?”

“Perhaps not.” An awkward pause. “What did he say?”

“Who?”

“Archbishop Lanfranc. Was he pleased to see you?”

“I was not given an audience with him.”

“An old friend like you?”

“The archbishop is a busy man,” said Hubert sadly. His ire rekindled. “And he knew that he would not get me to divulge one syllable about our work in Canterbury.”

“He did consider asking you, then?”

“No, my lord. He is above such things. This is a minor dispute to him and hardly merits his attention. When he was first made archbishop, he discovered that a vast amount of church property had been seized by no less a person than Odo, the King’s own half-brother, Bishop of Bayeux, and then Earl of Kent. Do you know what Archbishop Lanfranc did?”

“He brought a lawsuit against Odo.”

“He took on one of the most powerful men in the kingdom in a trial that lasted three days. Lanfranc won. Everything that was purloined is now restored to the church.” He wagged an admonitory finger. “We are talking about one of the finest jurists in Europe. He does not need my help.”

Ralph smarted under the reprimand but felt that he deserved it. Hubert’s outbursts usually amused him but this one earned his respect. The request could not be denied.

“You may have the documents when Gervase returns.”

“And when will that be?”

“Soon.”

Canon Hubert clasped his hands in his lap and settled down in a chair like a hen brooding on some eggs. He did not have long to wait before he heard the latch lifting on the front door.

“That may be Gervase now,” said Ralph.

“At least he will not hurl wild accusations at me,” said the other, excavating himself from the chair. “Gervase appreciates my true merit.”

“I will send him in to you.”

Ralph went out of the room to be met by a worried Osbern.

“I have brought Eadgyth home,” he said sadly. “You will have to forgive my wife if she is not able to attend to your needs. She is heartbroken at Bertha’s death. I think it best if she keeps to our bedchamber.”

“Of course,” approved Ralph. “But this tragedy makes our own presence here a burden to you. We will find some other lodging and leave you to mourn in peace.”

“That would distress Eadgyth even more, my lord. And it would certainly disappoint me. You are our honoured guests. We have servants enough to look after you.” The sound of weeping came from upstairs. “Eadgyth needs me. I must go.” He paused on the first step. “Oh, I almost forgot. I have a message for you. It is from Master Bret.”

“Where is Gervase? We need him here.”

“You may have to wait, my lord.”

“Why?”

“He has gone to Harbledown.”

The efforts and agonies of a long morning had taken their toll of Brother Martin. His vigour had waned, the spring in his step had gone and he leaned more heavily on his staff. Fatigue and sorrow had also clouded his mind. When he and Gervase Bret climbed up the hill, the monk had some difficulty finding the exact spot where Bertha had been found and he became increasingly frustrated. It was with a sigh of relief that he finally located the clump of holly.