Maureen Ash - Death of a Squire

As it came up to the hour for the evening meal Bascot realised that Gianni had been missing for a long time. He went in search of the boy, looking in all the likely places he was to be found and enquiring if anyone had seen him. Finally he went to Ernulf and asked if he would question the guards that had been on duty at the castle gates that morning.

“Perhaps he left the castle precincts on some errand or other and, if he did, they may have seen him leave,” Bascot said. “Although it is unlike Gianni to go anywhere without telling me, it is possible he may have done so. But if he did go out into the town or the cathedral he should have been back long ago. He would not miss the evening meal. I have been to the kitchens. The cook has not seen him, nor have any of the scullions. If the last food he had was when we broke our fast this morning, he will be sore hungry by now.”

Ernulf took the matter as seriously as the Templar. “Aye, you’re right. The lad likes his victuals. He would not willingly miss a meal. I’ll ask my men if any of them have seen him.”

When their enquiries were all answered in the negative, they searched the castle more thoroughly, going through the stables, the armoury and all the outbuildings, even poking about amongst the huge sacks in the food store in case Gianni had crept in there for warmth and fallen asleep. The hour for the evening repast came and went, and still there was no sign of him.

“I am certain some mischief has befallen him,” Bascot said to Ernulf as they stood in the middle of the bailey under a sky now almost fully dark. “It must have done. There is no other explanation.”

The serjeant nodded, his seamed face as worried as the Templar’s. “It’s too late tonight to search anymore. But if he does not turn up by morning, I’ll have my lads scout around outside the walls and over the Fossdyke. He is not within the bail, else we would have found him, so he must be somewhere outside.”

Bascot acknowledged the truth of the serjeant’s words and added, “If he is, Ernulf, he is not there of his own volition. Of that I am certain.”

Not only Gianni missed the evening meal. At the hour when trestle tables were being erected in the hall and laid with clean linen cloths, Nicolaa was sitting in her private chamber listening to her nephew Baldwin tell what he had discovered that afternoon from Alys, and how he had questioned both Alain and Renault.

“They both swore to me they had nothing to do with Hubert’s death, Aunt, although Alain did go out that night with the intent of waylaying him and giving him a sound thrashing for his treatment of Alys. Renault was privy to his purpose and, when Alain did not return, he followed to find out what had happened. But Alain could not find Hubert. He knew the squire had left the castle by the western gate just after sunset, riding one of Uncle William’s sumpter ponies and, since Hubert had been bragging earlier of a wench that he said was panting for his company, both Alain and Renault assumed that he had gone to keep a tryst with the girl. They expected him to return before curfew was called. Alain waited just outside the main gate until the gateward’s horn was blown to signal that the entrance would be shut, and then he and Renault kept watch for Hubert from inside the ward, thinking he would use the postern gate when he returned. They stayed there until the early hours of the morning and it was nearly dawn before they returned to their pallets in the hall. That is their explanation of why they were gone for most of the night. When the squire was discovered murdered, they decided it would be best to say nothing of their vigil, lest they be suspected of something in which they had no part.”

Baldwin’s tone was earnest as he continued, “I am certain they are telling the truth, Aunt, for they swore that it was so on my holy relic of St. Elfric’s finger bone.” Baldwin’s pale face was shining with perspiration. The anxiety Alys’s revelation had caused, and his subsequent interview with the two squires had distressed him, and he could feel his chest tightening in the way it did before one of the attacks of breathlessness overtook him. With difficulty, he held it in check, determined to finish the task he had set himself before he gave in to the ailment.

Nicolaa had listened carefully to what Baldwin had told her, and how he had come at his own suggestion and at the request of both Alain and Renault to ask her advice on what they should now do. She also saw the familiar signs of her nephew’s affliction start to show itself, and called for one of her servants to come and help him to his chamber.

“Be assured I will deal with this, Baldwin, and also be certain that if they are telling the truth, they will not be reprimanded, except perhaps for the misdemeanour of not being forthright with their elders. But now you must rest. Leave the matter with me and do not speak of it to anyone else, and caution Alys that she must do the same.”

Baldwin accepted his aunt’s directions gratefully and went to his chamber, leaning heavily on the arm of the servant, his breath labouring as he went. Once he had left the room, Nicolaa sat back down at the table she used for dealing with correspondence. She would need to tell Gerard and William what Baldwin had related to her, but first she needed to think. Were the two squires telling the truth? Baldwin was very sure, but he was an honest soul, to whom swearing a falsehood on a relic would be anathema. But she knew that such an act of blasphemy was not uncommon; it had been perpetrated many times, even by kings. And the boy wanted to protect his betrothed, Alys, from the pain she would feel if her brother were found to be guilty of such a heinous act as murder. Finally, she took up a sheet of parchment and drew forward the quill and inkpot that were always on the table. Tomorrow would be time enough to tell Gerard and his brother of Baldwin’s tale. For tonight she would keep it to herself, safely recorded and hidden out of sight.

Gianni had not returned by morning. Bascot and Ernulf had sat up nearly all the night, in case the boy should appear from some cranny in the castle grounds that had been missed in their search. When dawn came both the Templar and the serjeant were haggard and worried.

Ernulf sent some of his men to search the area outside the gates and down into the town. Those men-at-arms who were off duty volunteered their help to swell the ranks of searchers. Gianni was popular with the men, not only because he accepted his inability to speak with equanimity, but also because he was an orphan, a condition that plucks at the hearts of all men who follow the profession of soldier. Again the buildings in the bailey were thoroughly checked, servants questioned once more, menials that came from outside the castle for daily work within its walls were asked if they had seen Gianni on their journey, and even the pens containing fowl and sheep were inspected.

It wasn’t until just after mid-morning that one of the guards on the wall came running to where Bascot and Ernulf were making another search of the old keep. “We’ve found someone who saw a lad that might have been Gianni, serjeant,” the soldier said. “A carter, bringing a load of wood for the cook’s oven. We’ve told him to wait until you can speak to him.”

“Where did he see this boy?” Bascot asked, following as the man-at-arms set off back in the direction from which he had come. Ernulf was right behind him.

“That’s what’s strange, Sir Bascot,” the soldier replied. “The man said the lad was on the other side of the Fossdyke, going into the forest. What would Gianni have been doing out there?” The man-at-arms gave the Templar a sidelong glance. “It’s possible the carter is mistaken. It may have been some other boy he saw. He doesn’t know Gianni by sight, only said he’d seen a youngster that looked about his size.”