[Roger the Chapman 04] - The Holy Innocents (4 page)

Self-enforced continence was a sop to my conscience, but it did not prevent me from wanting Grizelda Harbourne.

Becoming aware of my scrutiny, she half-turned her head to look at me. After a moment, she came back to the table, smiling faintly, as though she had guessed my thoughts.

'I have to thank you, Chapman,' she said.

I shook my head. 'I've done nothing,' I protested. 'I would have done more, had you allowed me to have my way. I would have had Innes Woodsman in custody by now, in the castle gaol.'

'I didn't mean that.' She fidgeted with the fringed ends of the leather girdle about her waist. 'I know I must have said I things which have aroused your curiosity, but you have curbed the desire to ask questions, and it's for that that I'm grateful.

Mine has not been an easy life. There have been events...' Here, her voice became suspended by emotion, and it was a while before she was able to go on. But at last, she had sufficient command over herself to continue, 'There have been events which I find it too painful to discuss. And recent months have been the blackest of all.'

She had grown extremely pale, and for a moment, I was afraid that she might faint. I rose quickly to my feet, ready to support her if she fell, but my assistance was unnecessary.

She recovered herself almost immediately, blushing for her weakness. As the tide of colour surged up beneath her skin, I noticed again the scar on the fight side of her face, the thin, white line running from eyebrow to cheek. Conscious of the direction of my gaze, she put up a hand to touch it.

'I fell out of a tree as a child, cutting my face open on a branch as I did so. Such a trivial accident for which to bear so permanent a reminder.'

'You could have broken your neck,' I said. 'I wouldn't call that trivial.'

She shrugged. 'I was young, not above thirteen summers, and you fall easily at that age. Bones are greener. But you're right. I could have suffered more hurt than I did. However, all I have to show for my carelessness is the scar, and that, I flatter myself; is not too noticeable.'

'No, indeed.' I regarded her admiringly. 'You are a handsome woman. You don't need me to tell you that. But, forgive me, why have you never married? I can't believe that the men of these parts are so blind that not one of them has asked you.'

She gave a deep, throaty laugh, not displeased by my temerity. But her tone was astringent as she answered, 'What dower do I have, Master Chapman? Who'd have me?'
 

'You have this holding, an attraction to many men I should have thought.'

I saw at once that I had offended her, and recollected her contempt for the place - her reference to it as a hovel - and her claim to have known 'better things'. I realized then that her aspirations in marriage would be equally lofty, and that she would be unwilling to settle for any cottar or woodsman; not even, perhaps, for a respectable tradesman. And failing any offer from a higher rank, she preferred dignified spinsterhood.

There were many things about Grizelda Harbourne that I still did not know, and many questions that I should have liked to ask her, but I had neither the time nor the right to do so. I turned and picked up my pack and my cudgel.

'I must be on my way,' I said. 'I've taken up too much of your time already and I want to be in Totnes well before dinner. But before I leave, I want your promise that you'll go to your friends in Ashprington and beg a bed for the next few nights. After what has happened, you shouldn't remain here on your own.'

'You really think me in danger of being robbed again?' When I nodded, she smiled resignedly. 'Very well. And to show my gratitude for your concern, I shall walk with you some of the way towards the town. There could still be hockors about the countryside. You are liable to be caught again.'

I laughed. 'And you don't think a great fellow like me capable of standing up for himself?'

'You did precious little standing up an hour or so ago,' Grizelda responded drily. 'And very uncomfortable you looked, sprawling there on the ground.' She added reflectively, 'Big lads such as you are often shy of women in any numbers. I've hocked many men in my time, and it's always the little fellows who are most at ease, giving as good as they get and enjoying each moment of the forfeit. Mark my words, when it's your turn to hock tomorrow, they'll be in the forefront of the gangs.'

I was disconcerted to discover that she could read me so well. It was true, I was inclined to be shy in the presence of younger women, but had hoped that I concealed the fact. I consoled myself with the thought that very few people were as percipient as Grizelda Harbourne, and that the circumstances under which we had met had been awkward ones for me.

I made one last effort to dissuade her from accompanying me, expressing concern that she must be tired, having risen so early. But she merely laughed and brushed aside my fears.

'I'm like my father,' she said, 'of strong constitution. Moreover, I enjoy walking, so it will be no penance to go with you a little way.'

Finding her so determined, I gave in with a good grace, and we set out together in the direction of Totnes. 'How will you manage without your hen?' I asked her.

'Buy eggs from my neighbours, or spend a few groats of my hard-earned savings to get myself another. But no bird will be able to replace my dear Félice.'

We encountered no more hockers, although once, in the distance, we heard sounds of merriment and women's voices shrieking with delight as some unwary man was caught in their toils. But where we were, the only noise was the rustling of the leaves as a small breeze went whispering amongst them. Grizelda seemed to know the more isolated woodland paths, where the beechmast beneath our feet was rich and golden, and where the green mist of unfolding beech leaves made a shade undisturbed by anyone other than ourselves.

We came out suddenly on to the high, clear ground above Totnes, with the town spread out before us, tumbling down the hillside and spilling over beyond its walls to the tidal marshes and busy shipping quays on the River Dart, far below us. To our right was the castle, raised upon its mound, and beyond that the town's main buildings, including the Benedictine Priory of Saint Mary, the guildhall and houses of the most important burghers, all confined by walls and a ditch and earthworks, which might once have been topped by a palisade. And beyond that again, lay more houses, mills and the meadows and orchards of the Priory. The streets hummed with life, and my spirits lifted. I could do good business here, in the market place and by knocking on doors. A thriving township by the look of it.

Grizelda said, 'I'll leave you here. Go down the hill and in at the West Gate. It's near the cattle market they call the Rotherfold. Or you can go by South Street, which will bring you south of East Gate into the unwalled part of the town.' She reached up and, unexpectedly, kissed my cheek. 'Good luck, Chapman.'

Before I had recovered from my surprise, she had swung on her heel and was gone. As she disappeared once more into the belt of woodland from which we had just emerged, I shouted, 'God be with you!' But if she heard me, she gave no sign, not even a glance over her shoulder. I watched until I could no longer see the blue of her skirt among the trees, Then, hoisting my pack a little higher on my back, I started to descend the hill.

Chapter Three

Geoffrey of Monmouth, in his
Historia Britonum
, tells us that Brutus, son of Sylvius, grandson of Aeneas the Trojan, founded Totnes, and gave his name to the whole island of Britain - but there are some things I have always begged leave to doubt. On the other hand, having seen it for myself, I would take anyone's word that Totnes is a rich and thriving town, and that its wealth is founded on wool. All trades connected with that commodity - tucking, fulling, spinning, weaving, dyeing - are well represented both within and without its walls; and while other occupations do of course flourish there, it is the fleece of the Devonshire sheep which is responsible for its general air of prosperity. Or perhaps I should say 'was', for I have not visited the place for many years now.

And one thing at least I know has changed. In that spring of 1475, the castle was still in the possession of the powerful Zouche family, all ardent supporters of the House of York, and therefore the climate of the town was also Yorkist.

During the time that I spent there, I never heard a single whisper against King Edward or his younger brother, Prince Richard. Nowadays, however, that freebooting Lancastrian, Sir Richard Edgecombe of Cotehele, is lord of Totnes and appoints the castle's constables.

But I digress... I followed Grizelda's direction and went in by the West Gate, close to the cattle market. A drover entered just ahead of me, driving two of his beasts to the shambles for slaughter, and I asked him who in authority I might speak to concerning my sighting of the outlaws. He suggested the names of several Town Wardens, who would pass my information on to the Mayor who, in his turn, would decide if it were of sufficient importance to be retailed to the Sheriff.

'But if you want to catch the early-morning trade,' my informant advised me, nodding at my pack, 'I'd leave all such civic matters until later. The women will be out and about betimes today. Most of 'era have been up since dawn, hocking, and they'll be in the mood to spend money. If you've any blue ribbons in your pack,' he added, 'save some for me. My woman fancies herself in a blue ribbon, though why I don't know! An uglier face it'd be hard to find between here and t'other side o' Dartmoor. If you want a good stand,' he continued charitably, 'take up a position opposite the Priory, near the Guildhall.'

I thanked him and moved away. He called after me, 'As to that other business, try Thomas Cozin. He's a Warden of the Leech Well. He'll give you a sympathetic hearing and not ask too many awkward questions.' The friendly eyes twinkled. 'Such as why you didn't try to capture the entire band of ruffians single-handed.'

I laughed, in recognition of the drover's shrewd appreciation of the pitfalls of dealing with Authority, repeated my thanks and strode out, past the pillory and the shambles, past prosperous looking houses and shops to an open space alongside the Guildhall, near the East Gate. There was already a small crowd of vendors, selling pies and hot pigs' feet, bundles of rushes and earthenware pots. A wandering minstrel was piping a jig and a trio of jugglers entertained those townspeople who had already spent their money, but were not yet prepared to return home to dinner.

By the greatest good fortune, no other chapman had yet arrived to peddle his wares, so I was able to claim the undivided attention of the women once I had opened my pack and displayed its contents. I did a good trade in needles, thread, laces and other such mundane objects among the wives and beldams; but the younger, flightier women vied with each other in the purchase of ribbons and brooches, coloured leather tags for their girdles and kerchiefs of fine white linen, trimmed with Honiton lace.

I had sold more than half my stock when I saw a little knot of women coming towards me, their eager faces plainly expressing interest in my goods. A second look convinced me that they were a mother and three young daughters, so alike were they in their natural vivacity and general glow of good health. All were plump and round, like little robins, and with a delicacy and refinement of manner that raised them above the common ruck. But neither were they noble; there was only one servant girl, who carried the basket, attendant upon them, and their cloaks were made of camlet, trimmed with squirrel, not fur, lined with sarcinet. The family of a rich burgher, I decided, although I could take small credit for such a obvious deduction.

As they gathered around me, laughing and chattering, I could see that there was not much more than sixteen summers between the mother and her eldest child, a girl just entering upon womanhood and very conscious of the fact, judging by the provocative glances she directed towards all the men within range of her sparkling hazel eyes. I myself was the recipient of more than one glance, but steadfastly refused to return them, giving all my attention to the older woman and devoutly thankful that Joan, as her sisters called her, had not been a member of the hocking party I had encountered that morning. The two younger girls, variously addressed as Elizabeth and Ursula, were not as yet interested in the male sex except for their father, who, from their conversation, they regarded as the provider and source of all good things.

'Mother, may I have this brooch? It's so pretty and I'm sure Father would wish me to have it, don't you think so?'

'Oh, Mother, look at this doll. Father won't mind if you buy it for me.'

'Mother, I want a new needle-case and there's an ivory one here which is big enough to hold at least half a dozen needles. If I explain to Father that I really do need it, he won't care if you purchase it for me.'

'Mother, this lawn kerchief will go very well at the neck of my green woollen gown. Father was saying only yesterday that it lacked sufficient adornment.'

Their parent, giving only half an ear to her two younger daughters' requirements, was busy on her own account, making a selection of my wares, her small white hands hovering predatorily above the open pack, fluttering from object to object, touching first one thing and then another, unable to decide what she most wanted to buy. She, too, seemed to have no fear of a husbandly reprimand for her spendthrift ways as she selected ribbons, laces, two beautifully hammered pewter belt-tags and a pair of gloves, made in Spain. But the object of her greatest desire was the length of ivory silk brocade which, like the gloves, had come from the hold of the Portuguese merchantman, lying off Dartmouth. She fingered it longingly, but when I named my price, she did, at last, hesitate, as though such a purchase might stretch even uxorious tolerance too far.