Devil's Acre (12 page)

‘I
’m sure I will - if we ever manage to get inside.’ He glanced at the door but there was no sign of the guard.

And so we waited. And we waited. But the door to the hall remained closed. Nobody seemed in any great hurry to come out to greet us. We must have looked a curious sight, two elderly clerics got up in their finest regalia standing before a closed door with one monk shivering behind.
The longer we waited the more ridiculous I felt. We were also starting to draw attention from nearby workmen.

‘W
hat’s the matter, won’t they let you in?’ said one of the blacksmiths stopping to mop his brow.

We ignored him.

‘Maybe they’re out,’ said his mate with a chuckle.

We continued to concentrate on the door
.

‘Egyptians, I expect.
Maybe they just don’t want any lavender today.’

‘
He do look pretty, though,’ said the first man and did a little dance with his hand on his hip.

At this
Samson thrust his crozier at the men. ‘You mind your manners or it’ll be the worse for you.’

‘Ooh, get her!
’

‘You should take care, my friend
,’ I said to the man. ‘This is the Abbot of Edmundsbury.’

‘
Yeah? And I’m the pope’s grandmother.’

I looked
anxiously at the still-closed door. ‘Are you sure they’re expecting us, father?’

‘Yes of course they are,’
Samson snapped back. ‘Do you think I’d have come all this way uninvited?’

Wealthy peers of the realm the Warennes may be, but Samson de Tottington was still the Baron of the Libert
y of Saint Edmund and he didn’t take kindly to being treated like an errand boy. I could see from the increasingly sour look on his face that his patience was wearing thin.

‘D’ye think they’ll still be here for
Easter?’ said the first workman to his mate.

‘
Na. The white one will have melted by then.’

That was enough for Samson
. Mustering what little dignity he had left, he spun on his gold-slippered heel - a hazardous manoeuvre given his weight and the iciness of the path - and marched smartly back towards the gate to whoops of delight from the two workmen with Maynus and me scrambling to keep up.

Chapter
14

PARLOUR GAMES

We
heard the patter of running feet before we reached the gate, a light feminine step, and turned to see an elegantly-dressed young woman coming quickly down the path from the castle keep towards us. I must say it was a pleasant sight to see such a fine lady with her skirts pulled above her ankles and her face red from exertion. The two smithies were also impressed judging by the expressions on their gawping faces.

‘Who’s this now?’ I grinned. ‘Not the countess - too young.’

‘Don’t be impertinent!’ snapped Samson still smarting.

‘I know this lady,’ said Maynus. ‘She is Simone, matron of the countess’s chamber. A very important servant.’

‘Father Abbot!’ panted the lady fanning her fingers across her chest. ‘Forgive me, I am not used to running.’

Samson
frowned concern. ‘Madam, please don’t distress yourself.’

The lady shook her head. ‘We saw you
- from the castle window. I came across - oh dear - as quickly as I could.’ She took another deep breath. ‘I am instructed by the countess to escort you into the hall.’ She gestured towards the building we had just abandoned. ‘Please.’

‘We have already been to the door,’
grumbled Samson, ‘and found it shut against us.’

Simone nodded.
‘I can only apologize. All is confusion at the moment. The ladies are at their prayers and Lord William has only just returned from urgent business abroad. I assure you no slight was intended.’

‘And the countess?’ said Samson.

‘Attending to her husband who as you know is indisposed. Please, won’t you come back? Please?’ She smiled so sweetly and gestured towards the hall again.

I
frowned at the abbot willing him to accept. How could any man with blood in his veins, be he churchman or lay, refuse such an endearing request from such an enchanting lady?

This time, with Simone accompanying us, there was no difficulty gaining entry to the great hall. Once inside it soon became apparent why our presence had gone unnoticed. The place was in uproar with servants rushing everywhere carrying, moving, erecting, screening. The cacophony was deafening. Small wonder no-one heard our approach.

‘Do you think all this is for
us?’ I asked, bewildered.

‘Naturally,’ said Samson
, his chest expanding. ‘Who else would it be for?’

Simone now returned with a servant in tow carrying a tray of spiced wine
. ‘I have informed Lord William of your arrival, father. He and his sisters will be along presently.’

‘The sisters are coming?’ said Samson accepting a cup of wine.

‘All are anxious to greet the Abbot of Bury,’ she smiled.

Samson
gave a gracious nod of his head. ‘We will be pleased to wait.’

I
continued to marvel at all the activity going on around us. If all this really was for Samson’s benefit it was certainly impressive and showed just how highly they thought of him. The central focus of activity seemed to be the dais which ran the full length of one side of the hall. Four high-backed chairs had been positioned at the front of it with an overhanging canopy embossed with what I presumed was the Warenne family crest - a chequered shield of alternating blue and gold squares. The two colours seemed to be something of a motif being everywhere we looked. Around the hall was hung a series of exotic tapestries and screens depicting for the most part hunting scenes - harts, horses, men with bows. It all seemed rather elaborate for so short a visit.

At a signal from one of the ushers all activity suddenly ceased. The builders and decorators
were shooed out and in a moment we went from turmoil to calm as silence descended on the hall. Then at another signal a door at the side of the dais opened and a flurry of liveried servants - in blue-and-gold, naturally - was admitted like a swarm of bees from a hive. A moment later there a rustling of skirts could be heard through the door and the bellow of a horn announced the entry of the Warenne siblings. All four entered the hall sedately and mounted the dais taking their places in front of the chairs. For a moment they stood surveying the assembled hall before them. When all was ready they sat followed by everybody else.

Whil
e all this elaborate choreography was going on I took stock of our hosts. Lord William was a man of comparable age to me I’d guess: that is to say in his mid-thirties. But there the similarities ended. While I was a drab sparrow William was an elegantly-dressed peacock who wore his hair long in the French style. His gown was of dark blue velvet exquisitely tailored and covered in pearls. His hands too were so beringed you’d have thought he was wearing gloves made of pure diamond. With that and his clipped auburn beard he reminded me, with a jolt, of King John. But then I remembered the Warennes sprouted from the same Plantagenet tree, albeit an inferior branch.

The three Warenne sisters were as different from each other as they were from their brother. The one nearest me, the Lady Maud, was clearly the oldest of the
m all being I guessed about forty years of age. Auburn like her brother, short and sour-looking, she was dressed in a style that even my mother would have regarded as old-fashioned.

Between
her and William in both age and position came Isabel - named presumably for her mother the countess. Where Maud was spare and bloodless, this lady was plump and pink with hair the colour of bleached straw. Her cheeks were flushed but I couldn’t tell if this was natural or simply because she had been snivelling so much into the silk rag that she was holding crumpled against her nose. Her clothes were less conservative than her sister’s. Indeed, I have seen Bury whores less provocatively dressed.

The final sibling was the most intriguing of them all. Lady Adela de Warenne was the clearly youngest and by far the prettiest sister.
She needed no false decoration to enhance her simple beauty. From the look of her she too had been shedding tears but unlike Isabel she evidently preferred to do her grieving in private since her eyes, though red-ringed, were dry.

After a moment’s pause
Samson rose to his feet and bowed low to our hosts:

‘
My lord, ladies, I bring you greetings from the men of Saint Edmund. May I present Brother Walter, our physician? Prior Maynus of course you know.’

Lord William replied: ‘
My lord abbot, greetings. We bid you and your companions welcome.’ Then he sighed, ‘but truly father, you have taken us by surprise. We were not expecting you until next week.’

Samson looked
wounded. ‘Surely my lord, you received our letter informing you of our visit?’

‘Well yes
, we did,’ agreed William hooking his leg over his chair arm. ‘But as you can appreciate at the moment we are a little...’ he searched for the right word: ‘Disorientated. My father’s illness has thrown us somewhat.’

‘I am grieved to hear of the earl’s condition,’ Samson
nodded gravely. ‘I can assure you, sir, of the prayers of all the monks and people of Saint Edmund’s and our earnest hope that his grace may be fully recovered to health very soon.’

At that t
he Lady Isabel let out a gulping sob: ‘We p-pray d-daily for a miracle, f-father abbot. Although s-so far to n-no av-vail.’

‘
We do indeed pray for a miracle,’ agreed William. ‘And it wouldn’t be the first time we got one. Did you know, father, that when he was a young man the earl was visited in a dream by Thomas Becket, no less? Oh yes. The good saint obliged him then by curing his blindness. This time my sister is hoping for a little more. What are her chances, d’ya think? Might he survive till Easter? After all, she’s sent a king’s ransom to the monks of Canterbury for their prayers.’

The Lady Isabel
looked at him horrified. I must say I too was shocked by his words. And it seemed we weren’t the only ones:

‘
Oh, save your blasphemies, brother,’ drawled the Lady Maud. ‘The abbot doesn’t wish to hear them and neither do I. We all know you’re impatient for father’s coronet. Don’t worry. You won’t have much longer to wait.’ She leaned towards Samson. ‘My father is an old man, father abbot, as indeed you are yourself. And it is the habit of old men, is it not, to die?’

‘All our lives are in God’s hands, my lady,’ replied Samson levelly.

‘Then let us hope he keeps a tight grip of yours at least until after you leave Acre. How long will you be staying?’

‘Once I have concluded my business with the earl, a day or two - with the prior’s permission.’ He nodded towards Maynus.

‘Ah yes, our little French mouse. I’d almost forgotten you were there. Don’t be shy, little mouse. Come into the light where we can see you.’

A naturally reticent man, Maynus blushed to be singled out so conspicuously. He stood to reply but before he had the chance the lady cut across him:

‘And you there,’ she squinted at me. ‘Physician are you? Why are you here? We have physicians of our own. Much use they are,’ she sneered.

This set Isabel off sobbing again.

‘Speaking of your business with my father,’ said Lord William, ‘what exactly is its nature?’

Samson hesitated. ‘With respect, my lord, that is a matter for the earl.’

‘Normally, yes. But under the circumstances I think we should know. We don’t want him bothered with trivia.’

I could sense Samson bridle a little at that. ‘I promise you, sir, that my business with the earl is not unwarranted.’

‘Possibly, but unless we know what it is how can we judge?’

Samson
wriggled. ‘I’m not sure I’m at liberty to disclose the details.’

‘Then I’m not sure I can take the risk.’

‘The truth is, my lord, until I see the earl I cannot know precisely what it is he wants.’

Lord William snorted. ‘What? You’ve come all this way without knowing what it’s about? I find that hard to believe.’

‘It was your father who requested the meeting.’

‘That was before he became ill.’

Samson pursed his lips. ‘I’m sorry, my lord.’

‘Then I’m sorry you’ve had a wasted journey. God speed you back to Bury,
father abbot.’ He started to rise from his seat.

‘Stop playing games
, William,’ Maud flapped her brother down. ‘We all know why the abbot’s here. Papa wishes to disinherit you.’

‘Actually madam,’ said Samson, ‘it is his confession he wishes me to hear. He wishes to be shriven. For the quiet of his mind.’

‘If only his mind were q-quiet,’ hiccupped Isabel miserably.

‘
No, that’s not it,’ frowned Maud. ‘If it were just to make his confession Maynus could have done that, or any one of a dozen clerics. No, Samson’s here because he knows mother.’ She leaned forward: ‘Not so, father abbot?’

‘It was the countess who summoned me,’ agreed Samson. ‘But it was at your father’s request.’

Maud gave a lopsided smile. ‘Indeed.’

While Maud was speaking
William’s dwarf who had been sitting cross-legged in front of William now stood up on his misshapen legs and whispered something in his master’s ear. William looked across at Samson:

‘Well,
whatever your true purpose, father, it seems it will have to wait. You will have noticed the preparations about you.’ He indicated the hunting scenes and the tapestries. ‘The fact is you have chosen an inconvenient day to make your visit. My nephew, Richard, is about to be squired and I’ve just been informed he is ready to begin.’ He smiled at Samson’s bewildered face. ‘Or did you think all this was for your benefit? Sorry, no. But you may stay for the ceremony if you wish.’

So, not for Samson after all. It seemed we had blundered into something that had nothing to do with our visit. I could sense Samson’s fury at the
deliberate slight. Now to add further insult we were having to witness the event that displaced us. Lord William clapped his hands and the lamps were extinguished plunging the hall into instant darkness so that we couldn’t leave even if we had wanted to. The servants already had their hands on our chair-backs. There was no escape. The entertainment was about to begin.