Devil's Acre (17 page)

Read Devil's Acre Online

Authors: Stephen Wheeler

I bridled at that.
‘He thought a wounded man no less able to feel pain or undeserving of help because he worships a different god, my lady.’

‘You have a brother also of that accursed race of infidels...’

‘...who served his adopted countrymen for twenty years thereby saving a great many Christian lives - my lady,’ I said stiffly.

W
hat was this? Is that the reason I was brought here, for sport at my family’s expense? But the next thing she said floored me utterly:

‘Abbot Samson tells me you’re
an excellent doctor. Is that true?’

My jaw
fell open.

The lady smiled. ‘Yes, he said you’d do that
, too.’

I snapped it shut again. ‘The abbot is inclined to exaggeration, my lady.’

She tutted. ‘Oh dear. I do hope you’re not going to be dull, master monk. False modesty is such a tiresome conceit. Answer me plain. Are you any good at physicking or not?’

‘I have been the abbey’s doctor for a decade and a half. If I had
not been any good I imagine I would have been replaced by now.’

A slight smile creased her lip at that
. What was she thinking, I wondered? Eventually she nodded. ‘You were making quite a nuisance of yourself at my gate just now. What was it about?’

‘It was nothing, my lady. Just something I needed to see Lord William about.’

‘Anything you wish to say to my son can be said to me.’

‘I...did not wish to burden your ladyship at such a difficult time.’

‘I’ll decide what burdens I can bear. Simone tells me you were angry about something.’

I
was loath to describe Esme’s mutilation to such a refined lady. The death of a dog seemed a trivial matter compared with the pain she must be suffering over her sick husband. But I could see she would not be fobbed off with lame excuses, so I gave her the barest details.

‘Is that it?’ she said when I’d finished.
‘A dead dog?’

‘The animal in question belonged to me, my lady.’

‘I thought monks were not permitted possessions.’

‘It was not by choice. Circumstances thrust the creature upon me.’

‘You were happy enough to let her go yesterday.’

‘I thought Nicholas would make a better master,’ and relieve me of the trouble of having to care for her, I could have added.


Nevertheless, you will be compensated for your loss.’

‘That’s most gracious, but the Lady Adela has already made the same offer.’

She looked surprised. ‘Adela? What has she said to you?’

‘Only the same as you, my lady.’

‘Nothing else?’

I hesitated. ‘No, nothing my lady.’

‘Very well. I will see to the matter.’

I bowed. ‘My lady.’

‘And Nicholas will be duly punished.’

I looked up.
‘Oh, but there’s no need for that.’

‘On the contrary. The boy is about to join a knightly order
. He must learn that with authority comes responsibility.’

‘But it wasn’t his fault.’

‘He wielded the knife. How was it not his fault?’

‘Because...’

‘Yes?’

I hesitated
again but this time could see no way round it. ‘Because he was bullied into doing it.’

She looked at me
seriously. ‘Bullied? By whom?’

By Richard of course. That at least was my suspicion. I had no proof because it was the serving boys who tormented Nicholas. But they would not have dared act as they did without approval. Naturally I couldn’t say so. But I was sure that the lady understood who we were talking about.

‘What you call bullying, master monk, Lord William calls toughening up. As a squire Nicholas will have to see far worse things than the death of a mere animal.’

‘That may be true for normal boys, madam. But you must know Nicholas is not normal.’

Oh dear. Now I’d done it. You don’t call the sons of the aristocracy abnormal. When was I going to learn to think before I spoke? I could feel the shutters being closed.

Her eyes narrowed.
‘In what way “not normal”?’

Here we go again.
I seemed to be having the same conversation again that I’d had with Maynus and Samson. Was I the only person who could see there was something different about Nicholas?

‘My lady, I am a humble doctor. Give me a bone to straighten or a boil to lance and I am your man. Questions of this nature are for God alone.’

‘And God’s guidance will be sought, never fear. But questions of what nature, master physician?’

I pressed my lips together. If I wasn’t careful this could end very badly for me. But someone had to speak up for the boy since he patently couldn’t do it himself - and nobody else seemed willing to either
, not the abbot or the prior or even his own family it seemed. I took a deep breath:

‘I think, madam, that Nicholas does not have the wherewithal to fulfil the role Lord William has mapped out for him. I think in particular he should not be squired. I think it is a mistake.’

There, I’d said it. And may God help me for my foolhardiness. If I still had a tongue in my head by the time I left here I’d count myself lucky.

The lady’s frown deepened. ‘That is a grave judgement, master monk.’

‘And one I should not have made. Please ignore it.’

‘Too late. The genie is out of the bo
ttle. Well, you won’t be surprised to hear that Lord William doesn’t agree with you. He believes the only suitable occupation for men of Richard and Nicholas’s rank is the profession of arms. So there’s no more to be said.’

I bowed, I must say with relief.
I’d done my best. If the boy’s own grandmother wouldn’t protect him there was nothing more I could do. The countess seemed to think so too. She picked up final piece of liver to feed to Pennyboggid, but seemingly changed her mind and dropped it back onto the tray before wiping her fingers one more time on the cloth.

‘Thank you, Robert.’

The servant bowed and walked sedately away. Then without another word the countess started to leave.

‘Erm, forgive me my lady,’ I said quickly, ‘but
since I am here would you like me to examine your husband?’

She seemed surprised. ‘Examine the earl? Why should I want you to do that?

I felt me face colour. ‘I just thought...?’
my voice faded away.

‘No
I don’t wish you to examine the earl. But you may tell the abbot that our meeting has been most satisfactory. Good morning to you Brother Walter.’

Chapter
19

TRUE
COLOURS

Most
satisfactory? What on earth did she mean by that? As far as I could tell nothing happened - less than nothing in fact, for not only did I fail to get Nicholas’s tormentors disciplined I had actually succeeded in making matters worse for the lad. He was going to be punished for someone else’s crime, for much as I deplored what Nicholas did to poor Esme I could see that his intensions were good. Faced with impossible alternatives he had chosen the course that seemed the least bad to him. Someone with more wit might have found a better solution - but then someone with more wit would not have been in his position in the first place. And surely that was reason enough to exclude him from the career his uncle had planned for him. As for making use of my talents as a physician - well, excellent or not they were clearly not good enough for the earl.

It was all too much for me to take in. I was exhausted having had no sleep this night and very little the night before. By the time I left the castle it was beginning to get light, not yet dawn but already the new day was getting underway. The heavy iron-clad doors of the gate stood open and traders were starting to come into the castle grounds and were being checked by the same guard who had challenged me earlier. Now that my temper had abated a little I realised the man had only been doing his job so I gave him a friendly nod as I passed to let him know I bore him no ill-will.

But I didn’t get very far. A group of boys were hanging around the entrance who I recognized immediately as being the ones who had been tormenting Nicholas at the squiring. Were these the ones who had galled Nicholas into murdering poor Esme, I wondered? Almost certainly judging by what they were doing now. As I approached they were teasing an elderly trader who was trying to lead his heavily-laden mule into the castle grounds. Every time he tried to go forward they were turning the mule’s head so that it was constantly going round in circles, a game they seemed to find highly amusing. The man was trying to take the jest in good part but it was plain that he was far from happy.

‘Please sirs, let me pass. I have pots that may break if the mule bucks.’

An unwise confession since it simply made the louts try all the harder to do just that. No-one seemed interested in helping the man so I decided I would. If nothing else it would give me satisfaction to repay them for what they had done to Nicholas.

I returned to my new friend the guard: ‘Excuse me. Can you see what those boys are doing?’

Initially the man ignored me and carried on checking visitors’ passes so that I thought he might not have heard. I stepped closer and tried again:

‘Those boys. Can you have a word
with them?’

‘Outside the gate
,’ the man replied. ‘None of my concern,’ and went on checking passes.

I was aghast.
‘Surely the welfare of all visitors is your concern?’ I said to him. ‘Isn’t that your job?’

He put his face right into mine: ‘Why don’t you push off back to the priory and mind your own business.’

‘As I think I’ve already told you,’ I said trying not to flinch, ‘I’m not from the priory. I’m from the abbey in Edmundsbury.’

‘Even better,’ he said and
marched off to deal with a cart that had slipped on the ice.

The boys were watching this exchange with arrogant smirks on their faces.
They could see nothing was going to happen to them. Why, I wondered? Well, I was just in the mood to box someone’s ears.

‘Have
you nothing better to do?’ I said to the nearest of them, a youth of about fifteen summers.

He gazed back at me in mock astonishment. ‘Who me?’

‘Don’t act the innocent,’ I said. ‘I saw what you were doing. Why don’t you let this poor man be?’

‘It’s all right,’ the muleteer grinned nervously. ‘It’s only a bit of fun - isn’t it boys?’

‘No it’s not all right,’ I said him. ‘These are Lord William’s servants and they should be whipped for their impudence - as I’m sure they would be if their master knew what they were doing.’

‘Brother please, don’t make a fuss.’

I frowned at the man. ‘What’s the matter with everybody today? And why are you rolling your eyes at me like that? Is there something wrong with them?’

I turned to see what he was looking at and saw
immediately what the matter was. Leaning against a wall a figure I recognized:

Richard.

I should have guessed he’d be behind this. Those boys would never have dared behave the way they did on their own account. No wonder the guard was reluctant to get involved.

‘Are these boys cheeking you, brother?’
Richard asked. He wagged a reproving finger at them. ‘Bad boys. Bad, bad boys.’ But they merely sniggered back at him. ‘What can you do, brother?’ he sighed. ‘The youth of today.’

I shook my head. ‘It’s not really the sort of example a squire should being setting, is it? But I tell you this, young sir. You may smirk and you may sneer but you do yourself no favours. For all his awkwardness, your cousin Nicholas has far greater nobility than you will ever know.’

That seemed to hit the mark, I was pleased to see. His smile vanished. ‘You’ve been to see my grandmother.’

‘Yes, and we both know why don’t we?’

‘I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about, brother.’

It was obvious that he did know about the nasty trick played on Nicholas which convinced me more than ever that he was behind it. Unfortunately I couldn’t prove it, and even if I could I doubted anything would come of it. The nobility of England may be vicious towards each other but they will not allow anyone else to be so and certainly not to one so highly born as Richard Fitzroy. I could see a lot of his father in him. King John was reputedly an arrogant youth. It was clear I wasn’t going to win this one. But I’d said my piece. And I would be leaving Acre in a day or two. So with luck I would never have to see the any of obnoxious Warennes - nephews, uncles, aunts or indeed countesses - again.

 

Back in the street I started up the hill only to come across another unwelcome assemblage this time at the town gate. A small group of locals were gathered around a monk who I recognized as one of the three who had come to my door the previous morning. He was fat, French and from the way he was behaving, highly agitated. I suspected their debate was probably about the business in the priory cemetery the previous day and I tried to slip past without getting involved. Unfortunately the monk spotted me.


This is the man you need,’ he said pointing to me. ‘
Maître
, these people wish to hear about
le revenant
.’

‘I know nothing about it,’ I said trying to duck by quickly.

The monk put his hands together appealingly: ‘
Mon frère, s’il vous plait
. These people have the right to know their lives are in peril.’

A
small group of his listeners had blocked my path and were looking expectantly at me.

‘Does Prior Maynus know you
’re here?’ I said to the monk.

‘Of course.

I nodded. ‘
I’ll check when I get back to the priory.’

I tried again to leave
again but a sturdy-looking market trader had stepped in my way.

‘I’m sorry,’ I said to him, ‘I can’t help you
.’ But the man would not let me pass.


Is he right what he’s saying?’ He nodded towards the fat monk. ‘Something about dead men walking?’

‘There’s no proof of any of that,’ I said firmly.

‘The brother says there is. Says there’s an empty grave. That right?’


Oui
,’ the fat monk nodded. ‘Of course it is right, we all heard. You heard too,
maître
.’

‘What I heard was a young man crying.’

‘What was he crying about?’ asked the trader.


As a matter of fact, his dog.’

‘His dog?’


Non non
,’ insisted the fat monk. ‘It was not a dog. It was
a monster
de l’enfer.


Enfer,
’ frowned the trader. ‘That means “hell” doesn’t it? A monster from hell?’

This brought more agitation
from the crowd which was growing in size. I laughed in what I hoped was a reassuringly dismissive way. ‘It’s all a fallacy. Nobody saw a monster.’

‘I did.’

We all turned to see who had spoken and I groaned as I recognized the drunk from the cemetery.

He came forward.
‘I saw it. ’Orrible he was. Great ugly face on him. Little slits for eyes.’

‘That wasn’t a monster,’ I began. ‘It was -’ But I hesitated to name Nicholas.

‘What?’
the trader prompted. ‘What was it?’

I closed my lips.

‘The Frenchie’s right,’ the former drunk continued to rant. ‘It was a monster from hell. An’ it tried to drag me down there with its claws. Look.’ He showed the hole in his sleeve where his own knife had gone wiggling his finger through it. He held it out for others to do the same.


He didn’t have claws,’ I said. ‘He was as human as you or I.’

‘So you did see it then?’ said the trader.

The fat monk put his hands together imploringly. ‘
Maître,
you do not understand. These creatures are no longer human. They have become
les
morts-vivants
.’ He stared wide-eyed around his audience: ‘The living-dead.’

The phrase scythed through the crowd like pox through a brothel. Several fell on their knees. One woman giggled hysterically.

‘It’s them French monks,’ said a different voice in the crowd.


Non non,
’ the monk insisted. ‘English! He is English this
revenant
. An English priest.’

‘The brother’s right,’
said the former drunk. ‘It wasn’t the French monks who brought the body here. It was that abbot.’ He pointed at me. ‘He was with him.’

‘Aye, he was,’
agreed another voice.

Suddenly all eyes were on me. But at that moment I was more concerned about the little scene I
had just noticed developing further down the hill. The boys who had cheeked me earlier had emerged from the castle grounds and had congregated at the foot of the slope. No sign of Richard of course, but his cronies were peering up in our direction with an interest that didn’t look at all friendly.

‘I think it might be time we left,’ I said quietly to the fat monk.

But he was just beginning to enjoy himself. ‘Ah,
non
,’ he objected.

‘Yes, I think so,’ I insisted. ‘Or I may
yet tell the prior what you’ve been up to.’

Reluctantly he started to come with me as the crowd
stood in silence to watch us go. But just as I feared, Richard’s lieutenants had already started up the hill towards us and began to mingle with the crowd. I don’t know whether they instigated it but suddenly the entire mass started as one to follow us.

‘Brother,’ I urged the Frenchman. ‘Could we move just a little faster do you think?’


Oui oui,
’ he nodded oblivious to the danger. ‘I come.’

He was coming all right, but not quickly enough for my liking. Our pursuers were beginning to gain on us. At the church gate he stopped to catch his breath and wipe his brow.

‘Brother, please. We really must hurry.’

‘You go,’ he said flapping a hand at me. ‘I follow.’

I didn’t need telling twice. I left him leaning against the church wall and continued on alone glancing back only once. As I suspected the crowd weren’t interested in him; they eddied around him like a river round an island en route for me. I didn’t dare look round again but carried on walking as fast as I could without actually running. Then a piece of flint flew past my head and with it went all sense of decorum. I picked up my robe and started to run for the priory as fast as my legs could carry me.

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