Blood Moon Page 7

  Turning the letter over in my hands I had a terrible sense of déjà vu for it reminded me starkly of the last time I was entrusted with a sealed document like this. That time I had resisted the temptation to open it considering it a breach of trust to do so. Had I done so then and acted on what I found much of the subsequent tragedy might have been avoided – a man’s life saved, his home and family kept intact and a murderer apprehended sooner. The murderer then, as if I needed to remind myself, was none other than Geoffrey de Saye. My timidity that time had haunted me ever since and I didn’t want to repeat the same mistake again.

  Still I hesitated. I placed the neat little white oblong on my lectern and studied it carefully. It looked such an innocuous thing sitting there with its huge embossed imprint of the great seal of Ixworth in bright red wax obliterating half of one facet. My fingers itched to open it, but that red seal was daunting. Red for danger - isn’t that right? I’d seen it affixed to so many documents in my lifetime. It was as powerful an injunction not to violate its sanctity as would a decretal from the pope himself. Once broken it would be impossible to put back together again, and no-one would believe I’d done it accidentally. Summoning all my courage and with trembling fingers I gently eased the knife-blade under the seal.

  But before I could make the final irrevocable cut I was halted by a pounding on the door. God in heaven, were my mother’s spies even here in the privacy of my own laboratorium now? With a stifled yelp, I dropped both knife and note on the floor and swung round just as the door fell in and Dominic appeared in its frame, his eyes wild with unspoken horror.

  ‘What is it, child?’ I gasped. ‘What’s happened?’

  ‘The Lady Adelle!’ he panted.

  ‘The Lady Adelle?’ I repeated stupidly. ‘What about her?’

  His mouth was working but no sound was coming out.

  ‘Breathe boy,’ I urged, ‘or we shall be here all morning.’

  He took a deep breath, held it, and let it out all in a rush: ‘Murdered!’ he managed at last.

  No, it couldn’t be! Another sealed note, another murder, and Geoffrey de Saye all together at once? The coincidence was too much to bear.

  I realised my mouth had dropped open and I snapped it shut. ‘The Lady Adelle has been murdered?’

  Dominic shook his head. ‘No, not her.’

  ‘Then who?’ I said impatiently.

  He gulped more air. ‘Her maid. She’s…it’s…’ he panted pointing high in the air. ‘Oh…!’

  ‘Come along,’ I said shuffling him out the door. ‘Show me.’

  ‘Oh master, it was horrible!’

  ‘Fortitude lad,’ I said pushing him ahead of me. ‘Don’t faint on me now.’

  *

  In the marketplace a crowd had gathered in the south-east corner - a dark, uninviting place furthest away from the market cross. From the gasps of people as they pushed forward to catch a glimpse of the horror it was clear that this was where the body lay. They were being held back by the beadle, a rotund breathless little man with a thick black beard that hid much of his blotched features, and wielding his mace of office at the more determined gawpers.

  ‘Keep back, please! Back I say! Stand clear please madam! I’ll thank you sir not to touch. Hey, you there! What you think you’re doing?’

  I’m afraid I was no better than the rest for while the beadle’s back was turned I quickly sneaked a look for myself. I only had a moment or two but managed to take in most of what there was to be seen: The body lay face down in the muck but was unmistakably Effie - I recognised her clothing. But there was something else. I winced as I saw the thing that was lying next to her: A severed hand – Effie’s left hand, presumably, since her right was visible. It looked as though it had been chopped or chewed off by something very big, and lying next to her was the probable culprit: An extremely fat sow, its neat double row of teats prominently displayed on the underside of its belly. It too was dead, pole-axed by an outraged onlooker who was still strutting around and boasting about what he had done. That was as much as I was able to glean before the beadle put his hand on my shoulder:

  ‘Now brother, you should know better than that. Step aside, if you please.’

  I was about to move away when someone else blustered into the confusion: The owner of the pig, apparently, shouting angrily and demanding to know who had killed his prize porker. The guilty man readily owned up and there ensued a bit of a tussle between the two of them with a lot of pushing and shoving but no actual blows being exchanged while bystanders took sides depending on whether they sympathized with the pig-murderer or the pig. The overwrought beadle now had the added problem of trying to separate this warring pair and while his attention was diverted a second time I took the opportunity to have another look at the body.

  Unfortunately for the pig the pole-axing appeared not to have killed it outright for a lot of its blood had pumped out of the wound and pooled beneath Effie’s chest. But something else amongst the shambles caught my eye. I picked up a stick and lifted the object clear of the mess. It was dripping with congealing blood but there was no mistaking what it was: The cap that Raoul had been wearing when Onethumb and I saw him in the tavern the previous night – or if not his cap then one identical to it. And attached to it – that is, holding on to it – was that severed left hand. As I lifted the grotesque object the hand dropped off and a woman in the crowd fainted. But something about it wasn’t quite right. I couldn’t for the moment think what was wrong and it was while I was puzzling over this that I heard something else that made my own blood run as cold as the pig’s:

  ‘Bone-breaker!’

  I froze. Those words and that voice uttering them. I knew instantly who the owner was and turned to see Geoffrey de Saye standing just a few feet behind me surrounded by his usual posse of brutish-looking thugs. I suppose it was inevitable our paths were bound to cross I just wished it hadn’t been so soon. Such was my shock at seeing him that I’d forgotten I still had Raoul’s cap suspended from my twig. With a flick of his glove de Saye signalled one of his men to prise the stick out of my hand and I wasn’t quick enough to stop him.

  ‘Aow!’ I cried as he nearly twisted my hand off too in the process and walked towards de Saye with his trophy carefully held out in front of him. I was so furious that despite my shock I turned on de Saye:

  ‘You’ve no right!’

  ‘I have every right,’ he growled and added with a snarl, ‘bone-breaker.’

  But then something curious happened. I’m not sure if it was the epithet itself or the way he uttered it so contemptuously but it must have tickled the fancy of someone in the crowd for they gave a nervous laugh. ‘Bone-breaker,’ I heard them whisper and then chortle. That made someone else giggle which in turn made me start to laugh. Put it down to nerves but I couldn’t help myself. Laughter is infectious. And others must have found it so too for more and more of them started to laugh until pretty soon practically everybody in the crowd was laughing. The one person who wasn’t laughing was Geoffrey de Saye who looked as though he was about to have a fit turning a mixture of purple and blue. He clearly didn’t see the joke and somehow that just made it even funnier. And suddenly I could see him for what he really was: No longer the ogre of yesteryear but simply an old man to whom years of soft living had given a paunch and jowls, and what little hair he had left on his head was grey and wispy made all the more obvious by the contrast with the puce of his cheeks. None of this I had noticed the previous night as I crouched before the prior’s study door with my eye to the keyhole.

  Laughing was both the best and worst thing I could have done for while it eased the tension it humiliated de Saye, and a mocked man is a dangerous man. If he resented me before he must surely loathe me now. He looked as though he’d have liked to kill me. He did take a step towards me but it is difficult to maintain a menacing stance when all around you are collapsing with mirth. Finally with a roar he spun on his heel and barged his way through the crowd followed by his bodyguar
d who collided with each other in their confusion and haste to leave.

  Chapter 9

  PRIOR HERBERT DISPLEASED AGAIN

  I received my summons to the prior’s study later the same day. Funny how impenetrable the place was before when I wanted to get inside it and how permeable now when I did not. Jephthet was back at his post fiddling with quills and parchment as usual and looking this time not so much like a fox with the smell of sour grapes under his nose as the cat that got the cream. As I passed his desk I gave him the briefest of nods which he answered with a self-satisfied smirk. That smirk confirmed what I already knew: There was trouble ahead.

  Hearing voices on the other side of the door, I knocked and waited. There were hurried whispers followed a few moments later by Herbert’s nasal whine:

  ‘Come!’

  I composed my features into a blend of sycophancy and innocence, took a deep breath and put my head round the door.

  ‘You wished to see me, brother prior?’

  If the size of a man’s office reflects his level of self-importance then Herbert was a very insecure man indeed. His was enormous, at least thirty feet long, and he sat alone at the far end of it – that is to say, there was no-one else in the room. But the door to his private chapel stood slightly ajar behind him. Since I’d distinctly heard voices before I entered and there was no other exit I guessed whoever it was Herbert had been speaking to had now retreated to the chapel. No prizes for guessing who that might be.

  Herbert’s eyes narrowed and he beckoned me towards him with a manicured forefinger. It felt a bit like the old days when I was often being hauled before Abbot Samson to receive a dressing down for some misdemeanour or other, although Samson’s study was barely a quarter the size of this one. Herbert had Samson’s same air of displeasure but none of the Norfolk Trickster’s cunning.

  Dispensing with civilities, he launched straight in to the attack:

  ‘You were in the marketplace today, Walter. Why?’

  ‘My assistant summoned me. He heard there had been an accident and thought I might be able to help – in my capacity as abbey physician you understand.’

  ‘The girl was already dead.’

  ‘But I didn’t know that until I got there. You’ll be surprised how many corpses spring back to life again once they’ve had a chance to recover. These difficult diagnoses are best left to the experts, don’t you agree?’

  Herbert made a growling noise in his throat. ‘You insulted my Lord de Saye.’

  He spoke the name clearly and with due deference thus confirming my guess had been correct and the man was indeed in the chapel a few feet away and listening to every word.

  ‘Did I? I’m sure I didn’t mean to. I don’t actually remember saying anything much to him.’

  ‘You laughed at him.’

  I shrugged. ‘Lord de Saye made a joke and I laughed. Everybody laughed. It was a good joke.’

  Herbert wagged his head slowly. ‘Walter, you undermine his lordship’s authority with your impertinence.’

  ‘In that case I apologize. Had I known he was going to take such a personal interest in the case -’

  ‘Lord de Saye does not take a personal interest in the case,’ Herbert interrupted abruptly. ‘How could he? He’d happened to be passing through the market on his way to see me when the body was discovered. It was only natural he should take charge.’

  That was a clumsy lie. A cleverer man would have passed off de Saye’s earlier visit to the priory as a courtesy call instead of trying to pretend it never happened. It just confirmed to me that skulduggery was afoot. But more interesting to me was why someone of de Saye’s rank should take any interest in the death of a mere maid.

  ‘Not just any maid,’ said Herbert reading my thoughts. ‘The murdered girl was a member of an important household. The Bishop’s household. These things need careful handling.’

  ‘How astute of his lordship to have divined all that merely from a casual glance at the body as he happened to be passing by.’

  I thought I heard another angry growl this time coming from the chapel. Herbert glanced briefly over his shoulder before turning back to me.

  ‘You’ll gain nothing by being clever, Walter. Lord De Saye has graciously offered to resolve this appalling business - with my full approval I hasten to add - and it is the duty of all of us to try to help him if we can.’

  The thought of my helping Geoffrey de Saye almost made me choke. ‘In what way could I help him?’ I asked.

  ‘You’re one of the few people to have had dealings with the family. You must have met the murdered girl on one of your visits. How did she strike you?’

  I shrugged. ‘A pleasant enough girl. A bit young to be a maid, perhaps.’

  ‘What about the Lady Adelle.’

  ‘As you would expect of someone of noble birth: She is a lady of refined manners and sensibilities.’

  ‘Could she have murdered the girl?’

  I nearly guffawed. ‘Of course not! She has just given birth, virtually bed-ridden.’

  ‘What about the boy? How did he seem to you?’

  I had to be careful here. I didn’t want to give too much away about the previous night’s activities.

  ‘Like all young men these days,’ I answered carefully. ‘Selfish, inconsiderate…’

  ‘Violent?’

  I hesitated before replying. In all conscience I couldn’t deny that I thought Raoul was capable of violence - after all, he’d grappled with me on the chamber floor and Effie had clearly been terrified of him. But being capable of committing murder was one thing; actually carrying it out was quite another. Unfortunately my hesitation only confirmed Herbert’s suspicions. He smiled knowingly.

  ‘Oh, now wait a moment,’ I protested. ‘You can’t just assume -’

  ‘He threatened the girl. Brother Gregor confirmed as much.’

  ‘Every master disciplines his servants,’ I countered. ‘It is only natural. An ill-disciplined household is a weak household.’

  ‘But not every master murders them.’

  ‘There’s nothing to suggest Raoul did, either.’

  ‘His cap was found at the scene.’

  ‘Which could have put it there by anyone.’

  ‘For what reason?’

  ‘To incriminate him, of course.’

  He snorted. ‘And who would want to do that?’

  ‘I don’t know. Perhaps you should ask Lord de Saye since he seems to have the answers to everything else.’

  Herbert’s eyes lit up at that. It was a hasty remark to have made and I cursed myself for my impetuosity. I hadn’t actually accused de Saye but I’d come pretty close to it, and him just feet away in the chapel listening to every word. Frankly I should have been surprised that he didn’t emerge from his hidey-hole right then and there and have me hauled off to some dungeon. He would have been perfectly justified to do so. In light of what I know now, of course, I can see why he didn’t. But at the time I wasn’t thinking clearly. I was too angry at being forced to defend the boy. Raoul de Gray was a brute and a bore and I didn’t much like his morals. But I liked Geoffrey de Saye’s even less.

  ‘If you’re so sure he did it,’ I said rowing back a little, ‘why don’t you arrest him?’

  Herbert smiled his weasely smile. ‘We have. Lord de Saye detained him this morning immediately after the discovery of the maid’s body and placed him in the abbey gaol.’

  The news stunned me. I hadn’t anticipated things would move so quickly. ‘What will happen to him?’

  ‘He will be taken back to Norfolk for trial.’

  That shocked me even more. ‘Why not try him here? Surely it comes under the abbey’s jurisdiction? You being most senior in the order have the authority,’ at least until the new abbot is appointed, I could have added.

  Herbert grimaced painfully. ‘Unfortunately I am unable to give the matter the attention it deserves. You know our situation over this election. I’m far too preoccupied with that. And it would
n’t be proper for me to begin proceedings only to have to hand the case over to the new abbot while still in mid-stream. Far better for the boy if Lord de Saye takes him back to his home in Norfolk and carry out proceedings in full there. He’ll receive a fairer hearing that way.’

  ‘If he makes it that far,’ I snorted.

  Herbert glanced quickly over his shoulder as though expecting de Saye to be there. ‘Walter, this continued antagonism towards Lord Geoffrey does you no credit. I know you and he have had your difficulties in the past. But that is ancient history now. If Lord de Saye is willing to work with you over this tragic affair you should do the same. It is, after all, your Christian duty to turn the other cheek.’

  ‘It’s also my duty to correct an injustice when I see one.’

  ‘Not this time. Your duty is to obey me. And I’m telling you to leave well alone.’ He sighed heavily. ‘Remember what happened last time. I refer, of course, to that child murder back in ’99. I was new to the cloister then, only two years monked, but it made an impression on me. It was quite a fiasco, as I recall. The murderer escaped and ended up killing himself and his wife while his accomplice got clean away. We wouldn’t want that happening again, would we?’

  ‘That’s not quite what happened,’ I objected, and was tempted to add that far from getting “clean away” the true murderer was apprehended - by me - and was at that moment standing barely five feet away from us.

  ‘Be that as it may,’ Herbert said waving his hand in the air. ‘This time you are not to get involved. That is a direct order - do you understand?’

  I didn’t reply but simply lowered my eyes. So he repeated himself more forcefully: ‘Do you understand, Master Physician?’

  I nodded curtly.

  ‘Besides,’ he added enticingly, ‘I have another job for you.’