Brother's Blood (12 page)

He looked down at the ground near where the woman was sitting. Despite the warm weather it was muddy and damp-looking. ‘Thank you, but I'll stand.'

She laughed, revealing that she still had some of her teeth. ‘Suit yourselves. What did you want to know?'

Edwin hardly knew where to start. ‘What's your name? Why do you live here in the woods? And why did Brother Alexander come out to see you?'

‘My name is Anabilia. I live here on my own so I can be closer to God; I spend my days praising Him and praying for the world. Brother Alexander came out to see me once every week to bring me my corrody from the abbey.'

‘Your what?'

‘Corrody. When I left my previous home I gave them everything I owned in return for five loaves of bread and three gallons of ale every week, for as long as I shall live.' She emitted what Edwin could only describe as a snigger. ‘I think they were expecting to get the better of the deal, hoping I would die soon after, but I've been here twelve years now, and God willing I'll be here many more yet.'

Edwin shook his head in disbelief. ‘You've been living here twelve years? All on your own? And aren't hermits normally men?'

He'd said the wrong thing. In an instant her expression changed and she hissed at him. ‘You're as bad as the rest of them. You have to be a man to be holy, is that it? Those pious monks, so full of themselves and above talking to mere women. Women aren't allowed to set a single foot inside their abbey, did you know that? In case they defile the place with their presence or tempt those oh-so-holy men into sin. No, they're only permitted by such kind generosity into the main church, and even then only if they're not suckling their children. It's an outrage!'

She had half risen from her stool and was waggling a finger in Edwin's face. He leaned back and opened his mouth, but she wasn't finished.

‘And even out here, they still don't believe a woman can be holy. A man living here would be a holy man, but me, I'm a witch – that's what they call me, isn't it? I know they do.'

Edwin didn't quite know how to answer that, unsure which answer might make her even more enraged. But Martin's voice came from behind him. ‘Couldn't you join a nunnery?'

She turned on him and virtually spat on the floor. ‘Pah! A pack of chattering women, living in comfort and vying for position? What good would that do? I am better here where I can talk to the Lord and His saints directly.'

Fairly certain that Martin wouldn't like being spoken to like that and that he might end up in the middle of a fight, Edwin hastened to intervene. ‘And Brother Alexander has been coming out to see you – what, once a week?'

Anabilia nodded and sat back on the stool with some dignity. ‘Yes. He brings the bread and the ale every Tuesday and takes back the empty barrel.'

‘By himself?'

‘Yes.' She thought for a moment. ‘That is odd, now you come to mention it. You'd think a high-and-mighty choir monk like him might bring a lay brother to do the lifting for him. But he just brought the full one strapped to his back and carried the empty one away the same way.'

‘And when was the last time you saw him?'

‘Well, it would have been last Tuesday, wouldn't it?'

The day before his death. ‘And did anything seem … different, at all?'

Her forehead wrinkled. ‘Not really. Although after he'd gone he didn't do his usual disappearing trick.'

‘Sorry, what? He didn't do what?'

She looked smug. ‘They might call me a witch but he had some strange powers, too. Maybe he got them from the Devil. I often asked the Lord about it, but I received no answer so I knew He didn't want me to know.'

‘But what disappearing trick?' Edwin could feel himself getting further and further mired as the conversation continued. Was the woman addled in her wits after living out here so long?

‘He could vanish. I found out some years ago when I realised after he'd left that I wanted to ask him something, so I followed him. He was far ahead of me and I couldn't see too clearly, but he walked towards the stone cliff and just … disappeared.'

‘How? Where?'

Anabilia shrugged. ‘I don't know. I was afraid so I hurried home to pray. I followed him a few other times, without telling him, and he did it again and again.'

‘And was this always in the same spot?'

‘Yes. Near the white stone cliff.'

‘Can you show us?'

She rose. ‘No, but I can show you where I was standing when I saw it. Come.'

Edwin and Martin looked at each other as she headed behind the cottage and dived into the undergrowth between the trees. Edwin was uneasy. Who knew what strange phenomenon he might be about to see? Was it witchcraft? Was the Devil himself stalking these woods?

Martin put his hand on his sword. ‘I'll make sure nothing happens to you. And we'd better hurry or we'll lose her. I've never known an old woman move so fast.'

After an indeterminate time during which Edwin tripped and slipped his way along what could barely be called a path, and tried to keep his face out of the way of branches springing back after Martin had pushed his way through them, the trees thinned and Edwin found himself at the edge of the woods. Some fifty yards or so ahead of them, across some open scrubland, was a tall white cliff. Presumably it was a continuation of the one which ran along next to the abbey, but Edwin couldn't work out which direction that was from here.

Anabilia stopped level with the last trees. ‘Here.'

Edwin looked from her to the cliff. ‘Here? This was where you were standing when you saw him disappear?'

She nodded. ‘He walked towards the cliff and vanished. And you can make of that what you will.' Then she turned on her heel and was gone.

Edwin and Martin stood in silence for a few moments. Edwin shielded his eyes, for the sunlight reflecting off the whiteness of the stone was bright. It was a sheer cliff. There was no break in it, and no way it could be climbed, or certainly not without it being obvious to any watcher. Had he fallen in a hole? But no, surely he would have cried out and Anabilia would have seen and heard. And he wouldn't have done the same thing over and over again.

‘Well, perhaps we should …' Edwin took a step forward, but was yanked back by a hand on the neck of his tunic.

‘Oh no. No way am I letting you walk across there by yourself. What if you disappear too? How would I ever explain that to my lord?'

‘Well, even if Brother Alexander did vanish, he obviously came back, so nothing too evil could have happened to him.'

‘Maybe. But still, you're not going. We can go together – or better still, you stay here and I'll go.'

Edwin nodded. ‘All right. If I stand here I can be in the same spot that Anabilia was, so maybe I can see what happened. Just …' he gestured helplessly, ‘just walk straight towards it and see what happens. And then touch the cliff, and if you can't see anything in particular, walk back again. I'll see if I can see anything from here.'

Martin turned to face the cliff and set off at a steady pace. He didn't actually draw his sword, but Edwin noticed that his hand was clenched around the hilt.

It didn't take Martin long to cover the open ground, even though he was walking carefully and looking where he put each foot, presumably in case he was about to fall into some kind of crevasse, although Edwin couldn't see one.

Edwin continued to watch as Martin neared the cliff. He slowed and then stopped. Edwin saw him reach his hand out, and then turn sideways.

And then he disappeared.

‘He's not here?'

Alys experienced a sinking, sick feeling in her stomach, followed by the first flutterings of panic. She had given up everything to come to Edwin, because he had asked her to, and he wasn't here waiting for her? She turned to Master Theobald, who shrugged without altering his stolid expression, and Mistress Christiana, who looked as bemused as Alys felt.

A small crowd was gathering as they stood next to the cart. The oxen strained forward to reach what little grass they could at the edge of the village green, and a couple of small children skipped back out of the way of the huge beasts. Without thinking Alys turned to make sure that Randal wasn't getting himself into any mischief, and then remembered that it was unlikely she'd ever see her youngest brother again. Or would she? Was she about to be sent back to Lincoln in shame like unsold goods?

She fought back tears as she faced the man who had spoken. ‘Where has he gone? When will he be back?'

The man shrugged. ‘Don't know. Went out on some business for the lord earl, riding out on a fine horse like the great man he thinks he is now.'

Alys looked around at the people. She saw both curiosity and indifference in their faces, but no sympathy, no hint of help. But then, why would they pity her? She was a stranger.

Everyone was looking at her. What was she to do?

She was saved from having to speak again by the arrival of a woman for whom the crowd parted. She didn't seem to be noble or rich, wasn't dressed in fine fabrics – although her gown was of a superior weave and better cut than some of the others around – but she had a dignity which made Alys feel she ought to curtsey. She bobbed uncertainly.

The woman addressed the man who had spoken. ‘Robin? Your youngest came to fetch me. Do you need me?'

The man nodded his head and indicated Alys and her companions. ‘They're looking for Edwin, so I said he wasn't here.'

The woman greeted Master Theobald and Mistress Christiana, then looked at Alys properly for the first time. Alys wished she didn't look quite so rumpled after the long journey in the cart. After a few moments the woman's eyes opened wide. ‘You're not … are you by any chance Alys?'

Alys licked her dry lips. ‘Yes, mistress.'

She was rewarded with a wide and welcoming smile, and was then taken aback to be folded in an embrace. The woman smelled of fresh herbs and flowers, and Alys couldn't help lifting her own arms to half-return the gesture, even though she was confused.

The woman stepped back and held Alys at arm's length. ‘There now. Somewhere, somehow, there has been a misunderstanding, but you're here now, so that's all that matters. My name is Anne, and I'm Edwin's mother.' Alys was embraced again and this time felt a kiss on her cheek. ‘Welcome to Conisbrough. Now, come home, bring your companions with you – master, mistress, you are very welcome – rest and tell me all about it.'

The sinking, sick feeling receded and Alys let out the breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding. Everything was going to be all right.

Edwin stood dumbfounded as he looked at the place where Martin had been a moment ago. He wanted to run towards it, but his feet were somehow stuck to the ground.

And then Martin appeared again. Thank the Lord. He shouted something but his voice echoed off the cliff and by the time the sound reached Edwin he couldn't make out what it was. He raised his arms in an exaggerated shrug and put his hand behind his ear. Martin waved both of his arms above his head and made an unmistakeable beckoning gesture, so Edwin started to pick his way forward across the scrubby ground.

He reached Martin a few yards ahead of the cliff. ‘What happened? I was watching you and you just disappeared, just like Anabilia said Brother Alexander did. How did you do it?'

Martin was grinning. ‘I couldn't see it until I was right on top of it, but look.' He pointed.

Edwin couldn't see anything except a sheer cliff face. Martin grabbed him by both shoulders and propelled him so they were standing exactly one behind the other. He reached around and took Edwin's right hand in his own, pointing it. ‘There. Look.'

And Edwin saw what he hadn't noticed before; something which would be impossible to see from more than a few yards either side of where he was standing right now: there was a fissure in the rock. He took a few steps back and it disappeared. He moved forward again and it came into view. He did the same a few steps to either side. It was very difficult to see because of the whiteness of the stone, but it was definitely there, and it was big enough for a man to enter.

‘Shall we go in?'

Martin nodded and stepped forward. This time he drew his sword out of the scabbard and held it in front of him as he walked into the crack in the cliff.

Edwin followed. The fissure was quite narrow but inside it opened out a little so there was room for both of them to stand and still have space between them; it was high, as the crack reached up into the cliff, so even Martin could stand upright. Edwin looked round at the white rock which surrounded them, with a few shrivelled-looking weeds growing out of it in places. ‘Now what?'

Martin looked helplessly at him. ‘I don't know. Why would he want to come in here?'

‘To meet someone? But who?'

Martin reached out to touch the wall. ‘Or to hide something? But where?'