Edward Marston - The Wolves of Savernake

Activity was the best escape from brooding and she threw herself into her chores with excessive readiness. She took over duties which would normally be left to the servants and spent more time on her embroidery that morning than she had done in the previous month.

Remorse still troubled her, however, and her restlessness would not be eased. It took her into the little room which her father had used for his business affairs, Leofgifu half-hoping that the sight of his ledgers and his papers might unleash a hidden spring of lamentation somewhere deep inside her and enable her to mark his passing with appropriate despair. But her heart remained cold and her mind unengaged. She sat at the table and idly reached for the first ledger.

It was over an hour before Hilda found her.

“Are you busy, Leofgifu?”

“No, no. Please come in.”

“Do not let me interrupt you.”

“I am glad of your company, Hilda. How are you today?”

“Do not worry about me, Leofgifu. How are you ?”

“Still oppressed.”

But she did not feel the weight of that oppression and wished that she could suffer in the way that Hilda, with her shattered beauty, still plainly did. Hers was the true coinage of grief; Leofgifu was offering only counterfeit currency.

“I need your permission to go out,” said Hilda.

“You may come and go as you please.”

“But you might need me here.”

“It is kind of you to put me first, Hilda, but I can spare you. Will you go far?”

“Only to the hunting lodge.”

Leofgifu was puzzled. “Why there?”

“To speak with the young commissioner.”

“Gervase Bret?”

“When he called yesterday, I was … too weak.”

“Weak?”

“He needed help and I pulled back out of fear.” Her chin lifted bravely. “But I will speak to him today and I will make sure that Cild speaks with him also.”

“Cild?”

“I must be strict with him now that he is mine.”

Leofgifu only partially understood what Hilda was saying, but it connected with her own inclinations. She gazed down at the ledgers she had been reading and the documents she had just leafed through, then made her election.

“You will not go to the hunting lodge, Hilda.”

“Why not?”

“It is much too far to walk.”

“We do not mind the journey.”

“Gervase will come to the house.”

“It would cause too much upset.”

“Perhaps that is what I need,” said Leofgifu. “Before you and Cild talk with him, I will see him myself. I may not mourn properly for my father until I fully understand the reason for his death, and Gervase may help me to do that.” She kissed Hilda on the cheek. “Go back to your room. I will send a servant to fetch him at once.”

The instincts of a born soldier never desert a man. After all these years, Ralph Delchard could still feel in his bones if a battle ahead would go well for him. Belief in success made it virtually inevitable and he had never been robbed of a promised victory yet. As soon as he saw the chest, his hope flowered; as soon as they found the charter, it blossomed into complete confidence; and when Gervase had examined the document closely enough to proclaim its authenticity, Ralph had the surge of exhilaration that he felt always in the first cavalry charge.

Word was sent to the abbey that the commission would convene again that afternoon. A personal summons was delivered to Prior Baldwin ordering him to present himself with all of the relevant abbey charters at a given time. The morning now gave Ralph an opportunity to make some last important enquiries in the town. Gervase Bret agreed to go with him, but he was called away by a message from Leofgifu and hurried off to her house. Ralph had to pay his visit alone.

“Come in, my lord. You are most welcome.”

“I am glad to see you safely returned, Saewold.”

“Business detained me in Salisbury.”

“How did you find Edward?”

“The earl is in fine fettle,” said the reeve with an obsequious smirk.

“As well as discharging his many duties as sheriff of the county, he is supervising the extensions to his castle. The building progresses.”

“We saw it on our way past,” said Ralph.

His eye kindled as Ediva came into the room to add her welcome and to go through the niceties. Her manner was as poised as ever, but she contrived to bestow a fleeting smile that stirred wondrous memories for her guest. Ediva called a servant and ordered refreshment, then she left the men alone for their discussion. They sat either side of a table.

“You must have missed your wife when you were away.”

Saewold shrugged. “I did not have time to miss her or anyone else, my lord. Being reeve of a town like Bedwyn is not an occupation; it is a way of life and it consumes all my attention. Ediva has learned to make shift for herself.”

“You are blessed in such a wife,” said Ralph without irony, then he addressed himself to the matter at hand. “We have a problem, Saewold, one that must be kept hidden until we have a solution. I speak to you in strictest confidence.”

“Of course, my lord. Of course.”

“Do not breathe a word to anyone or the outcry will be raised and the damned miscreant will make a run for it.”

“Miscreant?”

“You have a forger in the town.”

Saewold was shocked. “Here in Bedwyn?”

“Eadmer confirmed it.”

“When?”

“While you were away in Salisbury.” He saw a means to ensure the reeve’s collusion. “It is another reason why we did not disclose the crime. You would have been embarrassed in front of Edward if he had known that so much counterfeit money had been allowed to circulate within your town.”

“So much?”

“We believe so.”

“How long has this been going on?”

“For some time.”

“It must be rooted out at once!” said Saewold. “I will not have Bedwyn tainted with false coin.”

“The time to announce the deception is when it has been fully uncovered,” advised Ralph. “You may gain some credit then instead of the criticism you may incur if your town is seen to be awash with counterfeit currency. You understand?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Be ruled by me.”

“To the letter.”

“One of the culprits has been identified, but you must help to name his accomplice. Alric Longdon was one party to this dreadful crime.”

“Alric!”

His surprise was short-lived. Once he weighed up the intelligence, he saw how it explained both the miller’s behaviour and his rising wealth at a time when some of his rivals were struggling to make even small profits on their labour. Alric certainly had the craftiness to be involved in such a scheme, but he could never be more than the aide of a subtler mind.

“Who were his friends?” asked Ralph.

“He had none.”

“Who were his relatives, his associates, his customers? Give me a list and we will scour it until we find the likeliest men. Eadmer has praised the forgery for its accuracy, so we look for very skilful hands.

Who in this town could be capable of such intricate work?”

Saewold thought hard. “There are several with fingers nimble enough,” he said, “but none with such diseased minds. Bedwyn has its share of poachers and thieves and drunken fools, but we do not harbour malefactors of this order. Someone who would work hand in glove with Alric? I cannot imagine such a man.”

“He lives here, nevertheless,” insisted Ralph, “and you must point him out to me. Fetch paper and pen to set down every name that comes to mind. Start with men in allied trades. Be quick about it, Saewold, and we may stop the rot before it spreads. Now, sir, who is your most likely moneyer? Where is your second Eadmer of the Short Stride?”