Mel Starr - A Trail of Ink

"We must make haste," I explained. "When Sir Simon finds the swineherd's hut and his man bound there, he will cast about in the forest seeking us. But not for long. When we are not found he will hurry back to Oxford. We must be in the town before then. He will not attack us where others will see."

I hoped this prophecy to be true. Arthur seemed content with the prediction. We walked east with rapid steps and soon the bell tower of Oseney Abbey was in view.

We hurried across Oseney Bridge and the Castle Mill Stream. I thought to seek Kate and explain my absence at mass this day and the final reading of the banns, but decided rather to return to Canterbury Hall. I wished to brush my garments, wash filth from my face, and seek evidence of our captors in the guest chamber while the event was fresh in my mind.

Robert Caxton seemed agitated. He gestured vigorously as he spoke. Caxton and his daughter stood with their backs to our approach. It was Master John who saw us first.

He pointed our way. Kate and her father turned, and immediately Kate took to her heels and fell upon me there in the street. I was some embarrassed, but her embrace drove discomfort from me.

Much hurried conversation followed. Kate told me that she was at first angry that I had neglected attending mass. But her father convinced her I was not a one to do so without good reason. So after the mass they sought Master John. He went to the guest chamber and discovered that we were absent and the place left in much disarray. He had just told Kate of this, and his fear that something was amiss, when Arthur and I appeared around the corner from where they stood.

I told them of our capture and escape, and the part Sir Simon Trillowe had played in the affair.

"We must speak more of this," Master John declared, "but not here in the street. Women are not welcome at Canterbury Hall, for monks reside here, but 'tis in my power to make exception. We will withdraw to my chamber and discuss this matter."

The cook rang the bell for dinner as Master John shut his chamber door behind us. I saw Arthur's eyes widen in alarm. I suspect he worried that our discourse was so important that we must not interrupt it even for a meal. Not so.

Master John looked up from his table when he heard the bell. "An empty stomach," he opined, "will not help to resolve this matter." Then, looking to Kate, he added, "None but the porter saw your entrance here, I think, but it would be unwise to set you at table in the hall. You must remain here while we go to our meal. I will bring a loaf and a bowl for you when we return."

Kate did not seem pleased with this announcement but knew better than to challenge convention. Those who do may occasionally succeed, but often bear scars for the achievement.

The pottage this day was thick with peas and beans, flavored with an occasional bit of pork. I was fortunate in finding a sizeable chunk of meat in my bowl. Arthur saw this, and gazed reproachfully at me. His bowl, I think, did not reward him with much flesh.

The bread was warm, a maslin loaf of wheat and rye, and the ale was near fresh. It was good to be alive — dirty but alive. Especially as there were men about who plotted it would not be so.

After the meal Master John commanded the cook to take a bowl of pottage, a loaf, and a cup of ale to his chamber. If this order surprised the cook he gave no sign. He was prompt. We had but closed the door to Master John's chamber behind us when the cook rapped upon it with Kate's dinner in hand. Master John set Kate at his table and she began to eat while we sat facing one another upon benches to begin discussion of the matter at hand.

"Think you Sir Simon was behind this abduction?" Master John began.

"There can be no doubt," I agreed.

"Would a man kill another for a maid?" Caxton wondered aloud.

"'Twas not for Kate he did this… not for Kate alone," I replied. "He is a vain man, and his pride is sorely wounded for Kate's dismissing his suit. But there is another matter which drives him as well, I think. He wishes information of me, so our captors said. And they spoke of Robert Salley's corpse discovered. Salley had naught to do with Kate, nor would Sir Simon need instruction from me to court a lass."

"This business is to do with my books, then," Master John declared. "I little thought when I asked your help in the matter that the undertaking might risk your life."

"But what can Sir Simon have to do with your books?" Kate asked between bites of maslin loaf.

"'Tis a mystery," I agreed. "Robert Salley was not known to Sir Simon, else Salley's friends would have mentioned it. And how did he come by one of the stolen books? Did Sir Simon have to do with the theft? And what did Sir Simon and our assailants have to do with Salley's death? They were certainly involved, else why speak of his discovered corpse as a troublesome thing?"

"Think carefully, Master Hugh," Wyclif urged. "Is there no other reason Sir Simon might wish you ill? Have you never encountered him before this business? Perhaps when a student at Balliol College you ran afoul of him."

"Or a companion?" Caxton added.

"May hap, but I think not. I was not a contentious sort. I remember no great disagreements. When the St Scholastica Day riots erupted in the town, I fled. Some scholars thought me a coward," I confessed.

"We will receive no assistance at the castle, this is sure," Wyclif asserted.

"Aye. It would be foolish to complain to the sheriff of his son. And what proof of his crimes have I but seeing him on the road and hearing our captors speak of his wishes?"

"Perhaps Lord Gilbert might confront the sheriff," Caxton suggested. "He spoke severely to Sir Simon when you were falsely accused of stealing your own coat."

"He would do so," I agreed, "but how could his intercession find stolen books or tell us who took poor Salley's life?"

"There may be one whose authority could do what even Lord Gilbert's may not," Master John suggested.

Silence followed this remark. Kate looked up from her pottage, spoon midway between bowl and lips. None who heard his words could imagine who Master John thought of greater authority than a peer of the realm. He enlightened us.

"Duke John thinks well of me. I was born on his lands in Yorkshire. Does the sheriff protect his son, Duke John would intervene, I think. 'Twould be best to know first, however, before confronting the sheriff."

"How can we know this?" I asked.

"You might take a letter."

"To the Duke?"

"Aye. He has been my patron since I came to Oxford as a youth. He will not turn away a man who brings to him a supplication from me."

"Where may he be found? He has lands and castles in the north and in France."

"He will not be at Pontefract in November," Wyclif advised. "No man would reside there for the winter when he might enjoy the Savoy."

"The sheriff will not be pleased to know we have brought Duke John against his son," Caxton observed. "He is a spiteful man, 'tis said."

"We can hardly make of him more an enemy than he is already… or soon will be when he learns what his son has been about and how he's been thwarted."

"He is not popular in the town," Kate added. "He is likely to levy a fine upon a shopkeeper for the smallest offence. Father heard from a silversmith of Fish Street that there are plans to complain of Sir John to the King."

"Travelling to Westminster might serve two ends," Master John advised. "You may seek Duke John's service, and you will be well away from Sir Simon, who may not wish to abandon his pursuit of you."

So the conclusion of our discussion: on the morrow Arthur and I would set off for Westminster. Master John would write a letter this night which I would carry to John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, third son of King Edward III. I was apprehensive of this journey. I had never met a Duke.