Ellis Peters - One Corpse Too Many

“Saddling up,” said Brother Anselm, “the moment he saw who came. We had it in mind the whole day that you’d have to hurry things. I’ve put food together, in case you came. Here’s the scrip. It’s ill to ride too far empty. And a flask of wine here within.”

“Good! And these few things I brought,” said Cadfael, emptying his own pouch. “They’re medicines. Godith knows how to use them.”

Godith and Torold listened and marvelled. The boy said, almost tongue-tied with wondering gratitude: “I’ll go and help with the saddling.” He drew his hand from Godith’s and made for the stables, across the small untended court. This forest assart, unmanageable in such troubled times, would soon be forest again, these timber buildings, always modest enough, would moulder into the lush growth of successive summers. The Long Forest would swallow it without trace in three years, or four.

“Brother Anselm,” said Godith, running an awed glance from head to foot of the giant, “I do thank you with all my heart, for both of us, for what you have done for us two — though I think it was really for Brother Cadfael here. He has been my master eight days now, and I understand. This and more I would do for him, if ever I might. I promise you Torold and I will never forget, and never debase what you’ve done for us.”

“God love you, child,” said Brother Anselm, charmed and amused, “you talk like a holy book. What should a decent man do, when a young woman’s threatened, but see her safe out of her trouble? And her young man with her!”

Brother Louis came from the stables leading the roan Beringar had ridden when first these two horses of his were brought here by night. Torold followed with the black. They shone active and ready in the faint light, excellently groomed and fed, and well rested.

“And the baggage,” said Brother Anselm significantly. “That we have safe. For my own part I would have parted it into two, to balance it better on a beast, but I thought I had no right to open it, so it stays as you left it, in one. I should hoist it to the crupper with the lighter weight as rider, but as you think fit.”

They were away, the pair of them, to haul out the sackbound bundle Cadfael had carried here some nights ago. It seemed there were some things they had not been told, just as there were things Torold and Godith had accepted without understanding. Anselm brought the burden from the house on his huge shoulders, and dumped it beside the saddled horses. “I brought thongs to buckle it to the saddle.” They had indeed given some thought to this, they had fitted loops of cord to the rope bindings, and were threading their thongs into these when a blade sliced down through the plaited cords that held the latch of the gate behind them, and a clear, assured voice ordered sharply:

“Halt as you stand! Let no man move! Turn hither, all, and slowly, and keep your hands visible. For the lady’s sake!”

Like men in a dream they turned as the voice commanded, staring with huge, wary eyes. The gate in the stockade stood wide open, lifted aside to the pales. In the open gateway stood Hugh Beringar, sword in hand; and over either shoulder leaned a bended long-bow, with a braced and competent eye and hand behind it; and both of them were aimed at Godith. The light was faint but steady. Those used to it here were well able to use it to shoot home.

“Admirable!” said Beringar approvingly. “You have understood me very well. Now stay as you are, and let no man move, while my third man closes the gates behind us.”

They had all reacted according to their natures. Brother Anselm looked round cautiously for his cudgel, but it was out of reach, Brother Louis kept both hands in sight, as ordered, but the right one very near the slit seam of his gown, beneath which he kept his dagger. Godith, first stunned into incredulous dismay, very quickly revived into furious anger, though only the set whiteness of her face and the glitter of her eyes betrayed it. Brother Cadfael, with what appeared to be shocked resignation, sat down upon the sacking bundle, so that his skirts hid it from sight if it had not already been noted and judged of importance. Torold, resisting the instinct to grip the hilt of Cadfael’s poniard at his belt, displayed empty hands, stared Beringar in the eye defiantly, and took two long, deliberate paces to place himself squarely between Godith and the two archers. Brother Cadfael admired, and smiled inwardly. Probably it had not occurred to the boy, in his devoted state, that there had been ample time for both arrows to find their target before his body intervened, had that been the intention.

“A very touching gesture,” admitted Beringar generously, “but hardly effective. I doubt if the lady is any happier with the situation that way round. And since we’re all sensible beings here, there’s no need for pointless heroics. For that matter, Matthew here could put an arrow clean through the pair of you at this distance, which would benefit nobody, not even me. You may well accept that for the moment I am giving the orders and calling the tune.”

And so he was. However his men had held their hands when they might have taken his order against any movement all too literally, it remained true that none of them had the slightest chance of making an effective attack upon him and changing the reckoning. There were yards of ground between, and no dagger is ever going to outreach an arrow. Torold stretched an arm behind him to draw Godith close, but she would not endure it. She pulled back sharply to free herself, and eluding the hand that would have detained her, strode forward defiantly to confront Hugh Beringar.

“What manner of tune,” she demanded, “for me? If I’m what you want, very well, here I am, what’s your will with me? I suppose I still have lands of my own, worth securing? Do you mean to stand on your rights, and marry me for them? Even if my father is dispossessed, the king might let my lands and me go to one of his new captains! Am I worth that much to you? Or is it just a matter of buying Stephen’s favour, by giving me to him as bait to lure better men back into his power?”

“Neither,” said Beringar placidly. He was eyeing her braced shoulders and roused, contemptuous face with decided appreciation. “I admit, my dear, that I never felt so tempted to marry you before — you’re greatly improved from the fat little girl I remember. But to judge by your face, you’d as soon marry the devil himself, and I have other plans, and so, I fancy, have you. No, provided everyone here acts like a sensible creature, we need not quarrel. And if it needs saying for your own comfort, Godith, I have no intention of setting the hounds on your champion’s trail, either. Why should I bear malice against an honest opponent? Especially now I’m sure he finds favour in your eyes.”

He was laughing at her, and she knew it, and took warning. It was not even malicious laughter, though she found it an offence. It was triumphant, but it was also light,

teasing, almost affectionate. She drew back a step; she even cast one appealing glance at Brother Cadfael, but he was sitting slumped and apparently apathetic, his eyes on the ground. She looked up again, and more attentively, at Hugh Beringar, whose black eyes dwelt upon her with dispassionate admiration.

“I do believe,” she said slowly, wondering, “that you mean it.”

“Try me! You came here to find horses for your journey. There they are! You may mount and ride as soon as you please, you and the young squire here. No one will follow you. No one else knows you’re here, only I and my men. But you’ll ride the faster and safer if you lighten your loads of all but the necessaries of life,” said Beringar sweetly. “That bundle Brother Cadfael is so negligently sitting on, as if he thought he’d found a convenient stone — that I’ll keep, by way of a memento of you, my sweet Godith, when you’re gone.”