Devil's Acre (13 page)

For a moment it was impossible to see anything in the gloom but as my eyes adjusted I could just make out a faint glow at the furthest corner of the hall. Gradually there came floating on the air the forlorn sound of a flute playing a lament. Then from behind the screen emerged a lone figure walking steadily towards us. At first it was difficult to see who it was but gradually I could make out a young man dressed in a white tunic with a red crusading cross emblazoned across it. This presumably was the nephew Lord William was referring to: Richard. I must admit he was a fine-looking young man clearly of the same noble stock as his uncle. In one hand he carried a lantern and in the other a sword. As he approached he could be heard reciting a poem that I knew from my student days: the legendary
Song of Roland
.

T
he poem tells of the great Christian emperor Charlemagne who while fighting the moors in Spain finds himself outnumbered and on the verge of defeat. Just as all appears lost Roland, the hero of the poem, saves the day by blowing on his horn three times thus summoning help from the imperial army. But the effort of blowing the horn is too much for him and he dies. When Charlemagne comes across Roland’s body he is filled with such rage that he chases the moors back into Spain where they all drown in the River Ebro. It is a tale of Christian triumph, heroic deeds, knightly honour and self-sacrifice and as such very appropriate for a would-be squire. The young man had clearly learned his lines well and delivered them with conviction and facility which we all applauded enthusiastically.

B
ut then, just as we thought the entertainment was over, another figure burst onto the stage: another young man about the same age as the first. He was dressed identically to his companion in a white tunic with a red cross emblazoned on it, but instead of a flute he carried a tin sword and in place of a lantern he held a very strange-looking object indeed. It looked - incongruously - like an elephant tusk. Like the first boy, this one also had a few lines to recite but whereas the first had delivered his with great eloquence and artistry this one sounded as though he had a mouthful of stones:

‘It is I, Roland,’ he lisped. ‘Seeing the dust of the cowardly heathen army approaching I summon great Charlemagne
’s army by blowing on my olifant - thus!’

He then put that strange instrument to his lips and tried to blow it up.
Nothing came out but a breathy fart. He tried again:

‘I blow up my trusty olifant
a second time!’

Another
fart. I stifled a laugh. This was a joke, surely, a deliberate mockery of the first boy’s performance. A murmur of disquiet ran round the audience. Lady Isabel leaned across to her sister:

‘What did he call that thing
he’s playing?’

‘I think he said it was his “elephant”
,’ replied Maud.

‘I thought that was
an animal,’ said Isabel.

‘It is,’
said Maud.

Undeterred,
the lad had another go at making the strange instrument speak. The trouble was his lips were too fleshy and his tongue too big to play a trumpet. Still, this time he did manage a vaguely horn-like noise out of it, but it was far too loud.

Startled,
Isabel jolted backwards. ‘Oh!’

At this
I had to cover my grin with my hand. This was preposterous. But who was this buffoon? Did he not realise what a fool he was making of himself? Buoyed by his new-found success, the fool grinned idiotically:

‘I blow my
horn a third time!’ he announced followed by another ear-splitting screech. By now we were all covering our ears and groaning.

‘
For the love of Jove!’ said the Lady Maud. ‘Can’t someone shut him up before we are all deafened?’ She looked accusingly at her brother, but Lord William was giggling too much to reply.

Now the clown
took out his tin sword and started waving it above his head: ‘The horn having sounded thrice, great Charlemagne’s army is summoned and Christendom is saved!’

‘
Did he say Christendom will be “saved” or “shaved”?’ asked Isabel barely managing to hide a fit of the giggles.

‘
Does it matter?’ giggled her sister. ‘With this oaf in charge Christendom will soon be awash with Saracens.’

Now
Lord William’s dwarf got in on the act. He hopped onto the floor and folding his awkward body in half so that his head touched the floor, he let out a real fart just to show how it should be done only to be chased off by the boy whacking his behind with his sword to much cheering and whistling from the audience. I looked across at Lord William to see his reaction but he was giggling himself too much to do anything. And I have to say it was funny. The boy clearly didn’t understand that he was the joke, that the audience was laughing
at
him not
with
him - which made him all the funnier, of course.

‘But the effort being too great,’
the boy yelled doggedly on, ‘my trusty olifant is split asunder. Alas I die!’

‘Well
go on then!’ Maud yelled at him. ‘Die!’

And obligingly he did
just that - noisily and thoroughly unconvincingly to a cascade of floor-stamping and cheering.

‘Bravo!’ said Lord William descending from the dais.
‘Well done Nick!’

The boy jumped up flushed with success. ‘Was I good uncle?
Did I die well?’

‘You did indeed,’ said William.
‘You both did,’ and he summoned the first boy and a group of his friends over to congratulate him. At first I thought how charming this was that they should include the idiot in their number. But then I saw that what they were really doing was smearing his back with muck from the floor. Fortunately the boy didn’t seem to notice although I was sure Lord William must. But did I hear right? Did he just call Lord William “uncle”? I looked questioningly at Samson but of all the people in the hall he seemed to be the only one not laughing.

Then the
boy’s face lit up again: ‘Grandmother!’

I glanced round
to see what he was looking at. Amid the confusion no-one had noticed the door opening at the far end of the hall and a flurry of ladies flooding in - headed, I was pleased to see, by the Lady Simone. In the middle of this coterie was the grandest lady of them all. Tall and regally elegant, there was surely no mistaking the Countess de Warenne. The moment she entered the hall the hubbub instantly hushed into silence. Ponderously she surveyed the assembled throng.

‘
What’s going on here? William?’

By now his lordship
had slumped back onto his chair: ‘Nothing mother. An entertainment, that’s all.’

‘One of your cruel jokes more like.’ Her eye fixed on the boy-clown. ‘And he, presumably, is the butt of it.’

‘It’s all right grandmother,’ the boy whined. ‘I don’t mind.’

The countess merely hissed at the boy. ‘And why is the reverend abbot still here? Old friend. I’m sorry you had to witness this.’

Samson took the countess’s
proffered hands in his: ‘My lady.’

The countess turned back to
her son. ‘Well?’

‘I found him standing on the doorstep
,’ sighed Lord William. ‘It seemed impolite not to invite him in.’

His sister Isabel yelped at that and covered her mouth quickly.

‘You insult the lord abbot with your boorishness,’ said the countess. ‘My instructions were quite clear. Abbot Samson was to be escorted to your father as soon as he arrived. Why did you disregard them?’

William
suddenly flashed anger. ‘Am I to be questioned now in my own court?’

‘It’s not your court
,’ she snapped. ‘Not yet.’

William
smiled at her sweetly. ‘But soon - eh, mother?’

At that
I thought the lady might explode. A pity she didn’t for I was enjoying the scrap. But it wasn’t to last. The aristocracy never wash their dirty linen in public - at least, not the really interesting bits. But then something else caught my eye; something small and white...

Esme.

My heart jolted. She must have followed me from the priory. Spying me now she came bounding across the floor towards me and skidding to a stop in the middle as two of the heralds darted out to block her path. Unperturbed, she sat on her bottom and watched impassively as the two men, their arms outstretched, tried to corral her. But Esme was too quick for them and hopped out of the way, to the nervous applause of the audience. The two servants tried again this time coming at her from either side. But once again Esme managed to scuttle out of danger to more delicate applause.

But then
the boy Nicholas spotted her and with a howl of delight came lumbering towards Esme. This time, however, she made no attempt to run but allowed the boy to scoop her up in his arms, to much more applause from the ladies in the room. Then, just as she had done to me in Tottington, Esme covered the boy’s face with licks and nips making him squeal with pleasure. I have to admit to a slight feeling of jealousy. But then the female sex is ever thus fickle.

The countess watched
all this with evident distaste and was about to issue further orders. Fortunately the lady Simone saw the danger and stepped forward to deftly coax the boy away while still clutching Esme. I let them go without comment. Well, that at least was one problem solved. It looked as though Esme had a new master. I can’t say I was entirely sorry.

The countess
now made her move to leave indicating Samson to escort her. A moment later Lord William also left, accompanied by his own entourage, through another door. Thus it seemed the day’s business was ended as suddenly as it had begun. Now what? I looked round for Maynus wondering if we were to leave too.

‘I’m sorry about your puppy.’

I turned to see the lady Adela standing there.

‘What? I mean, excuse me my lady.
It doesn’t matter. Esme wasn’t really mine.’

‘
Nevertheless, you must allow me to pay for her.’

‘No no, I wouldn’t hear of it.
’

‘Oh but you must
.’

‘Adela
, are you coming?’ It was the Lady Maud calling.

Adela’s smile vanished
to be replaced by a pained expression. ‘I have to go.’ And then she said something very strange: ‘You will take care of him for me, won’t you Brother Walter?’

‘
Him, my lady?’

‘
My boy.’

‘
Erm, yes - if I can. How exactly...?’

‘Adela!
’

She laid a gentle white hand on my arm.
‘Promise me.’

What else could I say?
I shrugged. ‘Of course.’

Adela
smiled once more and then followed her sisters out.

Chapter
15

BLIND ALLEYS

‘So,
mon frère
, what did you think of our noble family?’

We were waiting outside the castle gate for Samson to finish his business with the earl.

‘Charming, quite charming. Are they always so loving towards each other?’

Maynus gave a wry smile. ‘Is it not usually the way with families?’

‘Not with mine.’

‘Then you are fortunate indeed,
mon fils.
’

That wasn’t strictly true. Joseph and I used to fight like mongrels as children
, although we always made up afterwards - or nearly always. And I won’t begin to describe the battles royal I had with my mother, although nothing as vicious as what I had just witnessed between William and his mother. I was still reeling from the experience, not least Adela’s extraordinary approach at the end. What possible help she thought I could give, a poor monk she had only just met, I couldn’t imagine. Yet she seemed in earnest.

Take care of her boy. Presumably she meant one of the two in the hall, Richard or Nicholas, since both, apparently, were her brother’s nephews. But which one? By the time I thought to ask she had already gone. But surely there could be no confusion: angelic Richard must be hers. Monstrous Nicholas would have to be the product of a union between an ape and a gorgon not the product of such a lady as Adela. On the other hand, Nicholas was the one most in need of protection, not least from his own family if that appalling exhibition was anything to go by. Richard needed nobody’s help. Handsome and intelligent, few could be more favoured by God or better equipped for the ravages of this world. I supposed in that case it could be either. But which? Maybe Maynus knew.

‘Who exactly are those two boys?’ I asked
him tentatively. ‘Nephews of Lord William - I gathered that much. But who are the parents?’

‘Ah well, now you have asked
la question juste
.’ Maynus lowered his voice. ‘It is rumoured that Richard is King John’s son.
En fait
it is not a rumour, it is fact. John all but acknowledges him. He even gives him his brother’s name and calls him
Fitz-Roi
.’

‘
Richard Fitzroy - meaning “son of a king”.’ I shook my head. ‘I don’t know why I’m surprised. One of John’s little jokes, no doubt.’

‘Except no-one is permitted to laugh
,’ smiled Maynus.

‘And his mother?’

‘Adela,’ he mouthed.

So I was right.
It was Richard. But that just made her request to help him all the more baffling.

‘What about the other boy - Nicholas?
Who’s his mother.’

Maynus shrugged. ‘
Personne ne sait.
’

‘Well someone must
know. Or is poor Nick too much of an embarrassment for anyone to claim him?’

‘There are rumours
of course.’

‘About Adela?’

He shook his head. ‘Adela could not be the mother of both boys. They are weeks apart in age.’

‘One of the other sisters, then?’

I wouldn’t put it past John to have fathered children by two sisters in the same family. His sexual appetites were legion. I had the dubious pleasure of witnessing them for myself when he last stayed at the abbey. Three years later I was still having nightmares about it. All the Warenne sisters were John’s cousins which would render any liaison incestuous in the eyes of the church, of course - not that such a minor technicality would have deterred John. But which one this time: Maud or Isabel? Frankly neither seemed his type. And I wasn’t sure Maynus knew or if he did he wouldn’t tell me. He was already looking uncomfortable with the subject. I decided to let it drop.

‘Father, may I touch on another matter now that we find ourselves alone?’

He hesitated. ‘Oh yes?’

‘My behaviour yesterday. I feel I owe you an apology. I didn’t have the chance earlier.’

Maynus smiled kindly. ‘Do not fret,
mon fils
. It is already forgotten.’

‘Not by me. I was wrong, I see that now. The abbot explained it all to me.’

At that he looked slightly surprised. ‘The abbot explained?’

‘About Father Ralf’s
problem. Always a delicate subject, I know. But fear not, your secret is safe with me.’

‘I am relieved to hear it.’

I nodded affably. Well, I was glad that was out of the way. I didn’t like the idea of Maynus thinking badly of me. We’d got off on the wrong foot yesterday. Perhaps now we could begin our relationship again. I peered down the slope towards the castle gate where Samson was supposed to reappear.

‘Is he likely to be much longer do you think?’

‘The earl is a very sick man,’ said Maynus. ‘He has
la paralysie
...what is the English? It is not easy for him to communicate.’

I nodded. ‘Palsy. Poor man. Very difficult to treat. One really has only prayer. I recommend Saint Drogo.
He always listens to my supplications. Still, you would have thought his son would welcome the intervention of such a senior churchman as the abbot.’

Maynus demurred. ‘Lord William is wary of the
père abbé
. He fears he
may have too much influence.’

‘
With the countess? Because of their past association, presumably?’

He gave a hesitant smile. ‘Past association?’

‘From when he was incarcerated here as a young man.’

‘
The abbot has mentioned this time?’

‘Of course. He told me all about it
- the abbot doesn’t keep much from me. He was a young novice then, of course. Hard to imagine now, I know. But surely you were here at the time?’

‘No,
’ Maynus said firmly. ‘Nothing to do with that. It is to do with Lord William’s desire to go to Normandy.’ He lowered his voice. ‘You have heard, no doubt, that King John is there now making ready his defences against an expected invasion by King Philip?’

‘The abbot did confide as much
, yes. Are you suggesting that has some bearing on the rift between William and his mother?’

Maynus inclined his head. ‘The countess is not
enthousiaste
.’

‘Why not, I wonder? I’m sure he’
d give a good account of himself. Whatever else Lord William is, he’s surely a fine soldier. The king needs such men about him at times like this.’

‘Yes. But he will want to take with him his
entourage
.’

Ah!
So that was it. Of course, it made sense now. Adela’s brother wants to go to war and will take her son with him as his squire. No wonder she was fearful for Richard’s well-being. Although what she thought I could do about it heaven alone knew.

‘I’m sure Lord William wouldn’t place his own nephew in unnecessary danger.’

‘In war it is not always possible to control events,
mon fils
. The heat of battle. Both boys are still very young and totally inexperienced.’

I frowned. ‘
Both
boys did you say? Surely you can’t mean...?’

‘Naturally Nicholas will go too.
You saw the exhibition in the hall. They are both squires now.’

‘But I thought  the ceremony was for Richard alone.’

‘No no, both.’

I
looked for signs of jest. There was none. I snorted. ‘That’s ridiculous!’

Maynus gave a wan smile
. ‘How so?’

‘Well isn’t it obvious?’

He looked at me blank.

‘Good grief,
father prior, do I have to spell it out? The boy is unfit. Richard - yes, I grant he’d make a splendid squire. But Nicholas?’

Maynus shrugged. ‘
I do not see why not? He has lived under Lord William’s roof, been fed by him, clothed by him. Is it not reasonable to expect him to repay such a debt?’

‘
But he’s fourteen.’

‘In law, a man.’

‘A man with a child’s mind.’

‘I doubt Lord William will see it that way.’

I couldn’t believe I was hearing this. Was Maynus being serious?

‘Well it doesn’t matter to me, of course. I don’t know the
lad. But I’m surprised Lord William would consider taking a boy like Nicholas with him to war. He’d be less than useless on a battlefield. I doubt he’d survive the first cavalry charge. And frankly, father, I’m a little shocked by your lack of sympathy.’

‘I am not unsympathetic,
mon fils
, but we have to face facts. Lord William has many squires. He can afford to lose one or two.’

My jaw fell completely open at that. ‘Father can you hear yourself? This is a child’s life we are talking about. And not just any child. A child of noble
- indeed
royal
- blood.’

Maynus shrugged. ‘Alas, the children of the aristocracy are often strangers to their parents.’

‘But Nicholas is still his flesh and blood,’ I said with exasperation. ‘What sort of uncle sends his own nephew to certain death?’

‘The sort who puts duty to king and country first.’

I could see I was wasting my time arguing with Maynus. Maybe Burgundians regard their families differently to Englishmen. I couldn’t see my mother agreeing to such an outrage. Harridan to her children she may be, but set against outsiders she would defend them to the last dugout. At least, I liked to think she would.

‘Can’t the countess stop him?’ I asked. ‘You said she was less than keen on
this war.’

‘
You saw today how they are. In theory, yes of course. And while the earl lives she will get her way. But every day the earl grows weaker, his influence is declining. And once he is gone there will be no holding William.’

‘
Well I think it’s monstrous,’ I said folding my arms.

‘It
is
la
noblesse
.’

I was appalled by Maynus’s attitude.
This wasn’t at all what I expected of him. I was beginning to regret that apology now. I looked again at the castle gate willing Samson to reappear, but there was still no sign of him. A stray dog trotted up and sniffed briefly at our boots before cocking its leg against the wall and rummaging off.

‘I’m afraid you have lost your own little pet,
mon fils
,’ said Maynus gently.

‘
I’m sure she’s better off with Nick. Yes, and that’s another thing: you saw the way he was with her. That’s the sort of boy he is, a lover of animals, not a soldier.’

I looked again at the gate. What could be keeping Samson? Then just as I was beginning finally to lose hope he appeared - not from the castle as expected but from the town.
He was strolling towards us seemingly without a care in the world clutching a parcel to his chest from which he appeared to be eating.

‘Thank God!’
I said going up to him.

‘Were you worried about me?’ he beamed. ‘Did you think the countess had locked me up?’

I frowned, irritated by his bonhomie. ‘You’re sounding remarkably gay, father. I take it your meeting with the earl went well?’

‘Very well.
We accomplished what we wanted pretty quickly.’

‘Then may one ask what you’ve been doing
since?’

‘Exploring my old haunts.’
He held up the punnet he was clutching against his chest to show me. ‘Mussels. From the market. I remembered they grew them here in the Nar. Try one, they’re delicious.’

I
pulled a face. ‘No thank you.’

He shrugged. ‘Suit yourself.’ He offered them to Maynus instead. ‘Well now, what have you two been talking about in my absence?’

‘We have been discussing Lord William’s plans,’ said the prior helping himself to a mussel. ‘For the boy Nicholas.’