‘What is the matter?’ Lord Edmund demanded.
Gewis made a rueful face. ‘I am not used to such excellent wine,’ he admitted. ‘I apologize, my lord, for I have been a glutton and supped far too freely.’ He gulped air and then burped loudly. ‘Sorry.’
Lord Edmund was watching him warily. ‘Are you not well?’
‘I’m fine, I. . Oh, no!’ Now he was retching, his hands up to his mouth.
‘Do not throw up here!’ Lord Edmund exclaimed, distaste evident in his tone. ‘The privy is in the yard — down the passage and straight in front of you.’ He waved a hand.
Gewis retched again, more violently. ‘Thank you, my lord. . Oh, oh!’
‘Hurry, lad!’ Lord Edmund urged.
Gewis leapt up and lurched for the door, flinging it open and pulling it to behind him. He heard voices from down the passage. That way, presumably, was the kitchen area and beyond it the yard. There was no sign of either his guardians or either of the servants. With any luck the voices were theirs and all six men were ensconced in the kitchen grabbing a bite of supper.
On light feet Gewis raced the other way, across the hall to the door. He shoved the bar out of the way and opened the door just enough to slip through the gap. He emerged into the darkness, closing the door as soon as he was clear. The longer they thought he was still in the house, the better.
He ran along the alley to the market square. There was the abbey, directly in front of him. Torches flared high in their brackets either side of the gate. Careful to keep in the shadows, Gewis crept around the square until he was on the opposite side to the street where the guardians had taken him. A series of narrow, dark alleys led off in a generally downhill direction, presumably towards the water. Gewis knew he had to get away, and the only way was by water. He set off down the alley that crouched beneath the abbey wall.
He ran down its full length and at the end found that he could go no further. The water was lapping at his feet, and there was no way across. In the darkness, the scene lit only by the moon, he probably would not have made out any sign of a causeway, even had there been one.
I must wait for the daylight, he decided. He looked around for somewhere to hide, but nothing suitable offered itself. He was resolving to creep back to the abbey wall and crouch against it when he heard the sound.
At first in his panic he thought they were chasing after him. Then he realized that the sounds were coming from the wrong direction and that they were not running footfalls but faint splashes.
Somebody was approaching by water, carefully working the oars to make as little noise as possible.
Gewis stood in the shadows and waited.
Presently, a dilapidated boat appeared. It was quite small and in the stern there was a rough framework that supported a tattered awning. A young man was rowing and there was one passenger, a woman dressed in a dark cloak, the hood pushed back to reveal reddish-gold hair closely braided. She was tense with anxiety, biting her lips incessantly. A frown creased her high forehead.
The young man deftly manoeuvred the boat until it bumped gently against the bank, then leapt out and secured the painter to a post. He leaned down and held out his hand to the woman, who took it and followed him out on to the land. She carried a large leather satchel that appeared to be heavy. The young man offered to take it from her but she shook her head, clutching it to her.
Gewis had been craning forward to watch the pair and, although he did not realize it, his head and shoulders were out of the shadows and the moon fell on his bright hair. The young man looked up — he seemed to be searching for the track — and caught sight of Gewis. With a soft exclamation, he hurried forward.
Gewis cursed himself for his carelessness. He turned, about to flee, but — his voice low and urgent — the young man called out to him.
Gewis stopped. Slowly, he turned round.
The young man was right behind him. He was slim, quite tall and had long fair hair. The flash of recognition came swiftly. ‘I’ve seen you before,’ Gewis whispered. ‘You came into the abbey looking for rats.’
The young man’s face was haggard as if from some deep, abiding sorrow, but now he grinned briefly and said, ‘Yes. I was actually looking for you.’
Gewis studied him. The woman had come up to stand behind the young man, and Gewis was aware of her watchful presence. He felt no threat from either of them; besides, what choice did he have? He could try to row away in their boat, but he had no idea which way to go and would probably end up drowned. If he stayed where he was then Lord Edmund’s men might find him.
He stared into the young man’s eyes. ‘Have you somewhere to stay?’ he asked.
‘Yes, we are on our way to. . Yes,’ he replied. Gewis noticed the quick glance he exchanged with the woman.
‘I am being followed by men whom I do not trust,’ Gewis said. ‘If I come with you will you hide me?’
The young man reached out a tentative hand and Gewis took it. ‘We will,’ he said. ‘I am called Sibert, and this is Edild.’ The woman nodded to him. ‘Come with us,’ Sibert added, ‘and we will help you.’ Still grasping Gewis’s hand, he led the way along the bank and then up a narrow alley. He turned, grinned at Gewis and said, ‘We have, as I just told you, been looking for you. We will not let you down.’
NINETEEN
I was so relieved to see Edild that it was a moment before I noticed who else Sibert had brought with him. When I realized it was the pale youth, I thought I must be dreaming and that his unexpected appearance was just one more facet of this extraordinary night.
Edild was already on her knees beside Hrype, her anxious eyes taking in every aspect of his condition, one hand on his forehead. She uncovered the wound on his chest and, calling to me for a light, inspected the stitches. She glanced up at me, and I saw from her expression that I had done all right. Then she said, ‘Is there water boiling?’
‘Yes,’ I replied.
‘Good.’ She reached out for her satchel, unfastening the straps and quickly laying out ingredients.
I could not contain myself any longer. ‘Is he going to live?’ I whispered.
‘I will do my best to make sure he does,’ my aunt replied. ‘Now, stop hovering over me, Lassair. You keep getting your head between me and the light.’
I was, for the time being, dismissed. I turned to where Sibert stood with the pale youth. ‘Where on earth did you find him?’ I asked.
Sibert tore his eyes away from his uncle — he looked sickened by the sight of the huge wound — and looked at me. ‘He was down by the water when we got back just now. I recognized him initially by his hair. I don’t know what he was doing out there, but he asked if we’d shelter him.’
‘I can talk for myself, you know,’ the pale boy said.
I turned to him. I could think only that his mother was dead and he probably didn’t know, but it was hardly the moment to blurt out the news. ‘Who are you?’ I said instead.
‘My name’s Gewis.’
I knew that already, and more. ‘You’re a carpenter’s son from Fulbourn.’ I remembered his exact words. ‘You said you were a monk, but-’
‘No, I’m not, for I’ve taken no vows,’ the boy protested. ‘I said they’d turned me into one, but I only meant they’d shaved my head and put me in a robe, and I don’t think that’s binding.’
‘I’m sure it’s not.’ I smiled at him and after a moment he grinned back. ‘So, you’ve managed to get away from them, and now you’re trying to get off the island?’