Authors: Cassandra Clark
Hildegard held the girl tight. “You’re safe, Maud. It must have been frightening to believe you’d killed someone—”
Maud face hardened. “But I wanted to. I told Brother Thomas so. I told him I had murdered a man and he listened to me and said I would be forgiven. But I told him I wanted with all my might to kill him. And that means I’ll burn for it. Brother Thomas said if I truly repented I would be forgiven. But I can’t repent. I hate him. And now he’s alive and I still want him to be dead—” She seemed to brace herself as if to scramble back towards the parapet but Hildegard held her still.
“Let’s go somewhere less dangerous than this high perch where we can talk properly. Nobody will blame you for defending yourself. And he’s not dead so you’re not a murderess after all. There is nothing to forgive. We’re allowed angry thoughts without fear of punishment. No priest, and certainly not Brother Thomas, would ever tell you otherwise.”
Maud took a long time to consider matters.
Aware that she could slip over the parapet at any moment taking both of them to their deaths Hildegard said again, “Let’s go somewhere else … away from all those people staring up at us.”
Maud peered over the edge and for the first time seemed to notice the sea of faces turned up to watch. It acted as a brake. “Get me away from them, sister,” she whispered.
She scrambled back behind one of the buttresses and Hildegard followed, still keeping a tight hold on the back of her garments until she was sure she had changed her mind about jumping. Then it became a question of edging back along the gallery towards the tower steps. Even then she kept a tight hold of her under the pretence that the girl was helping her maintain her balance. It wasn’t until they reached the safety of the doorway that she released her.
As they entered the tower an outbreak of applause came from the watching crowd below.
Hildegard held Maud by the arm. “You see, my pet. They want you to live safe and sound. We all do.”
* * *
Trembling with relief that it was over, Hildegard went first down the narrow spiral. Maud was holding tightly onto her sleeve making it difficult to descend. Hildegard looked back at her when she reached the bottom of the steps and held out her arms. “You’re safe now, Maud.”
“Sister, permit me,” said a voice behind her. She turned.
It was the knight in black. The one who had sauntered onto Roger’s loggia. The one who had been stopped by Danby from filching lead from his yard.
He wore a mail shirt underneath his black linen tunic and a white cloth was tied round his neck. Hildegard realised now it was a bandage. She gazed at it in astonishment. Maud had inflicted a knife wound. She had confessed to it.
What was more, underneath the bandage in the opening of the man’s shirt was an emblem on a silver chain. He was standing so close she could not fail to recognise it this time. It was a silver swan. It was the one that had slipped through her fingers at Deepdale.
With no time to work out what it meant, she turned as Maud, lifting her head after jumping down the last few steps, let out a shriek. The knight in black was already reaching out to her.
“And little Maud,” he was saying smoothly. “You’ve led me a merry dance and—”
At that moment Brother Thomas materialised from somewhere in a flurry of white monastic robes, his strong face suffused with alarm. “These two are with me—” he began.
The knight swivelled, one hand already reaching to his belt. When the monk leaned forward to grasp Maud by the other hand the knight pushed him hard making him stumble.
Thomas jerked his head up with a look of astonishment. “My lord, I—”
He spread his arms to demonstrate his good intentions but the knight took it as an opportunity to produce a knife and before anybody could move he stabbed Thomas in the chest.
The onlookers gasped. A woman screamed.
Hildegard gazed in horror as Thomas fell back with both hands to the wound. The knight still held the knife and now slipped it back inside its sheath and reached again for Maud.
Gasping with pain Thomas managed to shout, “Run for it, Hildegard. Take her to safety!” before sliding to the floor.
For a moment Hildegard was torn. Then two vergers hurried up and a woman stepped from the crowd saying, “I’m a leech. Quickly! Let me attend him.”
Without waiting Hildegard pulled Maud into the thick of the onlookers and grasping her by the hand ran with her towards the minster doors. Shouts broke out behind them. A glimpse over her shoulder gave an impression of people stumbling out of the way of the knight in black and yet others reaching out to detain him. It was enough to make her rush Maud outside without further hesitation.
They ran across the minster yard towards the gates, then made a left turn onto Petergate where the crowds were thickest. If they could lose themselves in the throng they might give him the slip.
“Where are we going?” panted Maud. “Just tell me where we’re going!”
“We’ll go back to Harpham’s house. Ulf and his men will protect us.” But first, she thought, we have to elude our pursuer, otherwise we’ll never make it across town.
* * *
She urged Maud into a back lane that led off the street they were on. It ran parallel to Stonegate. Assuring her that it would take them in the direction of Conyngsgate she explained that they could eventually cross the river by Ouse Bridge and run up to the safety of the house.
When they arrived panting at the top of the street, however, one of the knight’s henchmen was there before them. He must have been with his lord in the minster and, taking notice of what had happened, had gone on ahead.
He was a stocky, thick-set fellow and was having difficulty looking over the heads of the crowd. So far he had not spotted them. When she glanced over her shoulder she saw the knight himself just sprinting round the corner in pursuit. The lane was narrow, thick with revellers. The knight pushed his way with difficulty towards them.
Near at hand were the back doors to the shops that fronted onto Stonegate and, dragging Maud with her, Hildegard plunged through one of them at random. A leather worker at his bench glanced up in surprise when they barged in but with no time to explain they ran straight through his shop and out into the street on the other side, his shouts fading as they ran into a yard directly opposite.
A church, its doors open, swathes of incense sweeping out in a dizzying scent and a glittering array of candles visible on the altar within was the only refuge. All the churches would be open now, she realised, the guilds processing around the town already before beginning their vigil on the eve of Corpus Christi. Unseen by their pursuers, they ran inside.
“There must be another door,” Hildegard told Maud, hurrying her down the short length of the nave and ignoring the startled glances of a scattering of worshippers. They reached the altar but there was no door behind it, merely a smooth sweep of painted wall with an aubry and a curtain slung across an alcove where presumably the priest kept his regalia.
The sound of jangling spurs in the doorway brought Hildegard’s heart into her mouth. “Quick, in here.” She pushed Maud behind the curtain and followed after.
A voice from near the door was heard to ask, “Did two miscreants just run in here?”
“No, sir, no one like that,” replied an unfamiliar voice. The jangling spurs receded.
After waiting a moment Hildegard looked out. There was no sign of the knight or his henchman but a stranger in the robes of a guildsman was hurrying down the aisle towards them.
He pulled the curtain aside. “You’re clearly in distress. Do you need help, sister?”
“We do. No time to explain further, master. Is there a way out of here? We need to get into Micklegate.”
“Follow me.”
He led them briskly to the back of the altar and moved the aubry to one side. Behind it was a door painted to fit in with a scene from the Garden of Eden on the wall.
“This is the Mercers’ Guild church,” he told her as he opened the door. “Follow the passage. It’ll bring you out on the river bank not far from the bridge. It’s dark in there,” he added, “so watch your step. Wait a moment—” He disappeared round the front of the altar and returned with a candle. “Take this. St. Benet be with you.”
Thanking him and with Maud already groping her way in terror down the narrow tunnel she set off. When the secret door closed their only light cast jumping shadows along the walls bringing Maud to a sudden halt.
Hildegard urged her on. “Go on, Maud. We have to get to the bridge before the knight does.”
The walls were running with water and there was a scuffling sound like rats. After a seemingly endless few minutes, slipping over wet stones, they came to a farther door. Not knowing what was waiting on the other side, Hildegard pushed it open an inch or two and peered through. The lifted candle revealed a bare, windowless chamber with another door at the far side. They could hear the sound of many footsteps shuffling past with a sound like waves breaking on a beach.
She said, “We must be below street level in a cellar of some sort.”
“I’m frightened,” whispered Maud. “Can’t we just stay here?”
“We must get to the bridge first, otherwise we won’t be able to cross the river to Harpham’s without being seen.” She only hoped that the knight’s retainers were not already posted at the bridge. “Come on, Maud. Be brave,” she urged. “We’ll tread with great caution.”
* * *
The empty chamber must have been a storeroom at some time. The faint scent of grain lingered. It reminded her of the kitchen at Low Mill. They had no idea where they were when they opened the far door, but to their relief they found themselves in the open air at the back of a row of booths fronting the river. The latch snapped as it shut behind them. Pinching out the candle Hildegard slipped it into her sleeve.
“Which way is the bridge?” asked Maud, clinging on to her like a limpet.
Hildegard hesitated for a moment until she got her bearings. There was a staithe to their right with a couple of barges moored beside it and farther downriver to their left the rows of booths continued along the bank for some way.
“It must be down that way,” she said, pushing Maud to the left with a firm hand on her shoulder. No one paid any attention to them and the bridge soon came into view. Then Hildegard felt Maud give a shudder of alarm.
“That’s the one called Hogg,” she exclaimed, drawing back.
Hildegard peered towards the bridge. A man-at-arms was lounging at the steps and giving the faces of the crowd a careful scrutiny He was thick-set, wearing a mail-shirt and paring his nails with a knife.
Such was Maud’s fear she was standing as if transfixed. Then her eyes darted to the water. It was a heaving mass of swimmers. Every few moments a boy would jump off the side of the bridge and land with a great splash. “I can’t swim,” she said as if an already frantic train of thought had been followed.
“Tell me something. Who is that knight?”
“He’s just called ‘my lord’ by his men. I don’t know who he is. He said he claimed our manor by right of arms and to hell with law. That’s what he kept saying. But what are we going to do now, sister? We’re trapped.”
“Not a bit of it.” She sounded more certain than she felt. It would only take the appearance of the other men to put a permanent guard at the bridge. Even if she tried to get Maud across by boat they would be clearly visible as they climbed up the embankment on the other side.
The mystery of the knight’s apparent interest in the cross could be solved later.
Pondering the possibilities open to them Hildegard considered searching out a constable and putting their lives in the hands of the law, but what Maud had said about no one believing her, as a bonded maid, rang true. She could easily imagine the charm the knight in black would switch on and the ease by which he would talk his way out of the situation and reel Maud back into his clutches. The law was tough when it came to a matter of runaway bonded labourers.
“I’m going to send a message to Sir Ulf,” she told Maud, mainly to keep the girl’s spirits up. There was the problem of finding a reliable messenger, of staying out of sight of their pursuers until help arrived. It wouldn’t do. “Meanwhile,” she continued, playing for time, “we’ll make it more difficult for them to recognise us in the crowd.”
She hurried Maud into one of the nearby booths where a range of clothing was for sale. There were rough cotton kirtles, tunics in various weights of fabric, cloaks and capuchons of every colour. Selecting a light green summer cloak for Maud, she told her to discard her old brown one. “Leave that one here. We can come back for it if you want it.”
Maud did as she was told. As she straightened it for her, Hildegard asked, “What’s in this bundle you always carry, Maud?” She indicated the cloth tied in a knot over Maud’s shoulder.
“It’s what I did it with,” she mumbled. She hung her head.
“What?”
“Killed him. Or thought I had.”
“You mean it’s a weapon?”
Maud nodded.
Hildegard was aghast. “You mean you smuggled that through the Bar when we first came here, despite the warnings?”
Maud nodded again.
“But why? You could have got us all locked up.”
She shook her head. “I daren’t leave it anywhere.”
They moved away from the booth. Hildegard had tied on a dark ochre kerchief that she pulled low over her brow, and Maud’s abundant and eye-catching hair was hidden under another one. They took shelter behind a stall selling pancakes. The smoke from the vendor’s brazier billowed out in thick blue coils but at least it served as some concealment.
“Now,” she said, “will you show it to me?”
Nervously Maud undid the knots that tied the bundle to reveal a long-bladed dagger.
It was expensively crafted.
The haft was worked in silver and studded with what looked like diamonds and the blade was well honed, a narrow and sharp instrument of death.
It seemed astonishing to Hildegard that such a lethal-looking weapon had not killed the knight outright. Maud must have stabbed out so wildly in her panic that she had missed her target and merely drawn blood. The knight no doubt considered himself fortunate to have his life.