‘Trouble is, the baron wants grandchildren, lots of them, and he wants a son-in-law who’ll put his back into the getting of them. If the girl’s father gets a whiff of anything amiss before the wedding, it’ll be off quicker than milk in a thunderstorm and Ralph’s old man wouldn’t take too kindly to that. Take it from me, you want to get your lad away from Ralph before his old man gets wind of it, that’s if he hasn’t already.’ She looked round anxiously. ‘There’s many round here in debt to him and might think to pay it off with a little tattle.’
We thanked her and turned into the narrow little alley she had indicated. The overhang of the darkened houses blocked out the sky so that only a slim ribbon of stars could be seen between them. The alley stank of piss and worse, but fortunately whatever filth we were walking on had frozen over and we did not have to wade through it.
As the serving girl had told us, the stew was easy enough to find by the sign of the bath over the door. The woman who admitted us was friendly until she discovered we had not come to bathe and told us to clear off. But when we described Jofre, her attitude changed and she seemed grudgingly grateful for our arrival.
‘Aye, well, you’d best get him out of here. I don’t want trouble.’ She jerked her head in the direction of one of the rooms. ‘He’s in there.’
We entered. The warm room was hot and steamy, smelling of wet wood overlaid by the clean sweet smell of thyme, bay and mint. Three big wooden bathtubs stood in a circle in the centre of the floor with triangular wooden canopies over the top to shield the bathers from draughts and keep the steam in. The bath-house owner clearly took great care of the customers for the tubs were lined with linen to prevent splinters. Between the tubs were several small tables. Ewers of ale and wine, and plates of roasted meats, cheese, pickled vegetables and fruits preserved in honey lay within easy reach of the bathers. I felt my stomach growl with hunger.
We didn’t recognize the two young men and the girl in the tub facing the door. They wallowed up to their necks in the hot herbed water, naked save for cloths wrapped around their hair. I longed to join them. The thought of soaking my cold aching limbs in a hot tub for an hour or two seemed like heaven. It’s years since I have been able to do that. Stewing in a hot tub is one of the many pleasures I have had to forego.
The occupants of the other two tubs were screened by the canopies. We moved forward. One of the young men, catching sight of us, raised his hands.
‘We’re full here. Try the other rooms.’ Then, grinning at Rodrigo, ‘We can always squeeze you in though.’
Rodrigo said gruffly, ‘I have not come to bathe. I have come for my pupil.’
There was a sudden violent splash from the third tub as if someone had been startled.
I walked round. There were only two in this tub, a young man older than Jofre by a couple of years, stockier too. Even with his hair concealed by an unflattering linen cap, he was good-looking with his hazel eyes, square jaw and full lips, in many ways not unlike Osmond. The other occupant of the bath, pressed as far back under the canopy as he could get, was Jofre, his eyes wide with alarm.
In the light of the tavern girl’s warning, I knew we needed to do this as quickly and quietly as possible. It was important that Rodrigo didn’t lose his temper, not here. I turned to him. ‘Go find one of the serving wenches to bring him his clothes.’
Rodrigo hesitated, but Cygnus grasped the situation at once and led him away.
I turned back to Jofre. ‘Come on, lad, get yourself dried. It’s after curfew; we need to get back to the gate before the watch changes.’
But Jofre, mutinous now after his initial scare, was not in a mood to come quietly. ‘Why should I?’
His face was flushed and I realized at once that the cause had as much to do with the half-empty ewer of wine on the table as the heat of the bath.
The other lad, whom I took to be Ralph, draped his arm casually around Jofre’s wet shoulders.
‘He doesn’t have to go. He can stay the night in the town.’
‘He’s apprentice to a master and his master bids him go.He’s bound by law to obey him. As you, Ralph, are bound to obey your father’s wishes.’
He looked startled that I knew his name.
‘And what, sir, is my father to do with you?’
‘Nothing at all, and I’d like to keep it that way to preserve all our skins. If you care anything at all for Jofre, you’ll encourage him to leave now for his sake, if not for yours.’
By the time Rodrigo and Osmond came back into the room with his clothes, Jofre had been persuaded to clamber unsteadily out of the bath and was attempting to dry himself. He allowed the serving maid to dress him. When the girl had finished, Jofre tossed a handful of coins on the table, with the carelessness of a young lord. He glowered at Rodrigo, then leaned over the bath and kissed Ralph passionately and defiantly on the mouth, before finally allowing himself to be conducted outside. It crossed my mind to wonder where he had got the money, but this was not the time to ask him, for as we emerged into the alley, I thought I saw a man leaning against the wall of a house a few yards away watching us. I took a firm grasp of my stave, but when we reached the place there was no one to be seen. I was annoyed with myself for jumping at shadows; still, the quicker we got out of the town, the more relieved I’d be.
Jofre walked between us, shivering in the frosty night air after the heat of the bath. He was silent and I prayed that Rodrigo would have the wisdom to hold his tongue as well, at least until we were safely back in the chantry. There were too many dark alleys and lurking shadows in this place to want to draw attention to ourselves. I glanced back over my shoulder several times, but could see no one following, though that did not make me feel any easier. There could have been a whole army hidden in the shadows. Rodrigo and Cygnus glanced nervously around too at every group of men who passed us, but no one challenged us and we finally saw the town gate ahead of us.
The watchman held out his hand for another coin to open the gate. ‘So you found the young rascal, did you? Taking him home for a thrashing, are you?’ He chuckled with satisfaction. ‘You’ll smart for this one, boy.’
I felt Jofre stiffen beside me and whispered, ‘Hold your tongue, lad,’ as I pushed him through the gate. I gulped in the clean cold air of the night with relief. All we had to worry about now was the wolf.
18. Birth and Death
The following day was Childermas, named for the day they massacred the Holy Innocents and the day Judas Iscariot was born, the unluckiest day of the year, they say. Some people refuse to get out of their beds on Childermas. They think the day so unlucky that they won’t venture on any journey or sell goods at the market, or buy any beast, for they say, what is begun on Childermas Day will never be finished. And that particular Childermas seemed determined to live up to its ill-fated reputation.
The day began no worse than any other. We’d managed to bring Jofre back to the chantry without incident or argument and, thankfully, without encountering the wolf. Zophiel had doubtless been ready with a few well-chosen words, but he didn’t get the chance to deliver them for Rodrigo hustled Jofre straight down to the crypt without giving Zophiel time to say more than, ‘So the wolf did not devour him. What a disappointment.’
Rodrigo himself had not said a word to Jofre all the way home. The cold air and the long walk rapidly sobered the lad up and several times he glanced apprehensively at Rodrigo as if trying to read his mood, painfully aware that his master’s silences were more dangerous than his rages. When we reached the crypt, he turned to face Rodrigo, clearly expecting a confrontation, defiance written all over his face, but Rodrigo had simply said, ‘It is late, Jofre, get some sleep.’ Then he turned away to his own sleeping place and lay down without another word. Jofre stood dumbfounded for a moment, absently rubbing his backside, then he too lay down in his corner and buried his face in his cloak.
But whatever retribution Jofre feared, I sensed that this time Rodrigo was not angry. Jofre’s drinking and gambl
ing, refusing to practise, wasting his talent, these things made Rodrigo angry, but not this, he did not blame Jofre for this. He’d known for a long time it was inevitable and he was afraid for him.
Breakfast was a subdued affair. Everyone was tired from the disturbances of the previous night and to break our fast we only had a thin broth boiled from the previous night’s carcasses. It was quickly drunk and wearily we began to prepare ourselves for another long day out in the cold in our search for something to put on the table.
Jofre had studiously avoided meeting anyone’s eye all through breakfast and now, before anyone else was ready, he hastily gathered his bag and sling.
‘Going hunting,’ he muttered to the floor. ‘Be back before dark,’ he added with a nervous glance at Rodrigo. He made for the stairs leading up to the chapel, but he only got as far as the second step.
Zophiel, descending the stairs from the chapel above, pushed Jofre back down into the crypt so savagely that the boy stumbled and fell. He scrambled to his feet and tried to make for the stairs again, but Zophiel blocked his way.
‘Not so fast, my young friend. I want some answers first. Where did you go last night?’
Rodrigo stepped forward. ‘He is my pupil, Zophiel. It is no business of yours where he went.’
‘I think it’s very much my business, Rodrigo, when it was my money he was spending.’
‘You gave him money?’
‘I did not give anything to him, Rodrigo. Jofre stole it.’
Taken aback, Rodrigo turned to look at Jofre who was staring wide-eyed at Zophiel. A dull red flush spread over the lad’s face, though whether this signified anger or guilt was impossible to say.
‘I thought we knew all your pupil’s vices – indolence, drunkenness, gambling, sodomy.’ He spat this last word out. ‘But now it seems we must add stealing to this ever-lengthening list. Well, boy, I’ll ask you again, where did you go last night?’
‘I didn’t steal anything,’ Jofre said, his jaw clenched in fury.
Zophiel moved a step closer. ‘So now we can add lying to the list as well, can we?’
‘Jofre does not steal,’ Rodrigo said firmly.
Zophiel kept his cold stare firmly fixed on Jofre’s face. ‘I notice, Rodrigo, you wisely avoiding saying – he doesn’t lie. Perhaps you don’t know your pupil as well as you think. Did he ever tell you, for instance, that the first time we met, Jofre lost a purse full of money to me on a wager he insisted on making to show how clever he was? He was most anxious that you did not find out about that. Perhaps he thought he’d steal from me to even the score.’
Jofre raised his chin and glared at Zophiel. ‘You’re the liar, Zophiel. I’ve never stolen any money from you.’
Zophiel smiled humourlessly. ‘No, but you stole something else, didn’t you, something you could sell for money in that rat-hole of a town.’
He produced a small box from under his cloak. It was about the size of a lady’s jewel casket, except that this was made of plain wood, banded with iron. The lock had been prised open. He tipped it forward. A heap of straw fell with a whisper on to the flags.
‘Empty, as you see. But yesterday morning it was not.’
He threw the box violently into the corner where it landed with a crash, making Adela cry out in alarm.
Zophiel ignored her and grasped Jofre by the front of his shirt, pushing his face into Jofre’s. ‘Who did you sell it to, boy? Answer me.’
Rodrigo pushed Zophiel aside and grasped Jofre’s upper arms, swinging him round to face him. ‘In the stew, you had money. Where did you get it from? You have earned nothing for weeks. Answer me, Jofre.’
Jofre, wincing, tried in vain to wriggle out of Rodrigo’s iron grasp. ‘I’m not a thief. I swear I didn’t take anything from Zophiel. I won the money gambling on dog-fighting. I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d be angry. But I didn’t steal it, I swear.’
Rodrigo searched the boy’s face for a few moments, then released his grip, shaking his head as though he no longer knew what to believe. Jofre backed away, rubbing the bruises on his arms.
‘So you won it gambling, did you, Jofre?’ said Zophiel, his tone icy now. ‘I congratulate you. Your luck must have changed; you’ve never won at gambling before. You’re as useless at that as you are at lying. So, tell me, boy, where did you get the stake money? Were your new friends so generous they let you play for free, or was the wager the contents of that box? Is that what you put up as your stake, boy, my property?’
‘I never touched your fucking boxes.’
‘Is that so? You know,’ said Zophiel thoughtfully, ‘it is Childermas today, is it not?’
Jofre looked bewildered.
‘When I was a child,’ Zophiel continued, ‘our teacher whipped every boy in the school on Childermas to remind them of the suffering of the Holy Innocents. It’s a pity to let these old customs die out.’ Without warning he twisted Jofre’s arm behind his back and began pushing him towards the stairs. ‘I have the horse-whip upstairs. Perhaps that will loosen your tongue.’
Jofre, unable to break free, turned frantically towards Rodrigo. ‘Rodrigo, please, stop him. I didn’t do it, I swear!’
Rodrigo stood with his head bowed and his arms folded, unable even to look at him.
Cygnus started forward. ‘Wait, Zophiel. It was me, my fault.’
Zophiel swung round, but did not relax his grip on Jofre. ‘You stole from me?’
Cygnus shook his head. ‘No, no, on my oath I did not, but I did leave the door to the chapel unbarred yesterday in the afternoon. I was distracted. I forgot to bar the door behind Rodrigo when he went out, then I went downstairs to talk to Adela, leaving the chapel empty. I was telling her a story to amuse her and it wasn’t until Camelot came back that I realized how long we had been talking.’
‘You were alone with Cygnus?’ Osmond said sharply, rounding on Adela.
‘Why shouldn’t I be? Osmond, you know this is foolish nonsense. Cygnus wouldn’t…’ She broke off gasping, clutching at one of the trestles for support.
‘Adela, are you ill?’ I asked.
But Adela shook her head. ‘It’s nothing. A little touch of gripe, that’s all.’
Zophiel cut in. ‘Camelot, is this true?’
I turned back to him and nodded. ‘The door was unbarred when I returned and Cygnus and Adela were down here. I’m afraid anyone could have come in and taken whatever it is that has been stolen. What is it that has been taken, Zophiel?’
He ignored the question. ‘You didn’t think to mention this?’
I shrugged. ‘So few people pass this way and I couldn’t see anything that was obviously missing when I looked about. From the dust in the floor it appeared that a few of the boxes had been moved, but you frequently check the contents yourself, Zophiel, as you did this morning, so I assumed you’d moved them yourself before you went out.’
Jofre wriggled in Zophiel’s grasp. ‘You see? Anyone could have taken one of your precious boxes and I wasn’t even near the chantry yesterday afternoon. I was in the town. So let me go!’
He gave another violent squirm and succeeded this time in twisting himself free. He turned and glowered at Zophiel.
‘Apologize, Zophiel, apologize for calling me a thief.’
‘Not so fast, my young friend. Camelot is right, so few people pass this way, and if it had been a chance thief, why take the contents of a box that was under several others? Why not take the first thing he could grab, or take it all, and why bother to put everything back exactly as before? That takes time and he’d want to be out and away as fast as he could before he was discovered. No, my young friend, I think you slunk back here and finding the door unbarred and the room deserted, you took your chance, knowing that if one of us returned unexpectedly no one would question your presence. You put everything back just as it was, in the hope that I wouldn’t notice the theft straight away, so I wouldn’t link it to you. And I would not have done, if Narigorm had not come to tell me she’d read
in the runes that something had been taken from me.’
I turned to look at Narigorm who was crouching as still as a spider in the corner. She glanced up wide-eyed from under her white lashes, but her face was without expression.
‘No, my young friend,’ Zophiel continued, ‘what Cygnus tells me does not exonerate you; it merely explains how you did it.’
He grabbed Jofre again and pushed him up against the wall, pinning him to the wall by his throat.
‘I could take you to the town bailiff and hand you over to be hanged, but I’m a merciful man. I’m not going to hand you over. I’m going to take you upstairs and I’m going to flog you, boy, until you admit the truth, even if I have to flay your back to the bone. Let’s see if your cocksucking boyfriends still find you as pretty then, shall we?’
Jofre brought his knee up sharply and caught Zophiel hard in the balls. The man staggered backwards and doubled over, groaning. Jofre darted towards the stairs, as Zophiel hissed through gritted teeth, ‘You’ll pay for that, you lying little pervert.’
Jofre turned, tears of rage standing out in his eyes.
‘Don’t you touch me, Zophiel. Don’t you ever touch me again. I know all about you. I know what’s in those precious boxes of yours. And I bet there are others who’d love to know what you’ve got hidden. I don’t need to steal anything from you, Zophiel; I can just sell what I know, that should be worth quite a bit, don’t you think?’
Zophiel froze, the colour suddenly drained from his face. Jofre ran lightly up the stairs. We heard his feet on the floor above and then we heard the outer door slam shut. The sound seemed to startle Zophiel out of his trance and he staggered to the stairs and heaved himself up, gripping hard on the stone handrail. Again the door above us crashed shut.
Before any of us could follow there was a sharp cry behind us. Adela was leaning against the wall, clutching her belly. There was a splashing sound and a puddle of water trickled out from under her skirts. I hurried towards her.