Alys had never met such open disapproval, evidenced, as it was, in cold stares, hostile comments, insulting gestures and mute insolence. She found it disturbing. As a Saxon woman in the garb of a Norman lady, Golde was in a more ambiguous position, understanding the feelings of the bystanders they passed while identifying herself with a conquering elite about whom she had many reservations. Not all the citizens were unfriendly. The latent animosity of the many was offset by the cheerful greetings of the few. Others simply ignored the quartet, coping with the sight of Norman soldiers in hauberks by pretending that they were not there. Murder added a dimension of unease. News of the homicide had spread throughout the community and it hung in the air like a noisome stench. People looked warily over their shoulders.
‘Well,’ said Golde, turning to her friend, ‘what do you think of Norwich?’
‘I like it far more than it likes us,’ replied Alys.
‘You get used to that sort of thing.’
‘Do you?’
‘I met it in York, Chester, Exeter and every other place I visited with Ralph.’
‘It’s never been quite so obvious in Winchester, perhaps because that’s where I grew up. I don’t simply sense their condemnation here; I can reach out and touch it.’
‘People are slow to accept change.’
‘It goes deeper than that, Golde.’
After their short tour of the city, they rode into the noisy market, itself a symbol of discord. Moved from its original site in Tombland to the east of the city, it now occupied land in the parish of St Peter Mancroft to the west of the castle, serving the many Norman families who had settled in the district and causing a stream of protest that still flowed with a strong current. During the banquet the previous evening, Golde had been told about the enforced change of venue. She raised her voice above the hubbub.
‘It upset everybody,’ she said.
‘What did?’
‘Shifting the market here from its old site. It used to be in the parish of St Michael Tombland, the richest in the city, according to Ralph. It stood there for many years. They met a lot of opposition when they took it away.’
‘I can understand that, Golde.’
‘A market is really the heart of a town.’
‘Don’t let Brother Daniel hear you say that,’ warned Alys.
‘Why not?’
‘He’d argue that a cathedral or an abbey was the heart of a community.’
Golde took a more practical view. ‘We all have to eat.’
Caught up in the mild frenzy around them, they picked their way through the milling crowds. The stallholders had been busy since dawn but the haggling was still at its height as fresh customers came in from outlying villages and hamlets to swell the numbers. Alys took note of a blaze of colour to her left.
‘Can we look at that stall selling cloth?’ she asked.
Golde laughed. ‘We’ll look at everything.’
‘Look or buy?’
‘Both.’
Helped by the two soldiers, they dismounted and made their way across to a display of silks, satins and woollen materials. Alys was soon entranced. The market was an education. It told them far more about the city than they could learn inside the confines of the castle. They heard the voices, shared in the emotions and observed the habits of the local people. Crafts of all kinds were on display. Stalls were set out in a higgledy-piggledy fashion. The two women followed a meandering route that took them past luscious fruit, fresh vegetables, slabs of meat, piles of fish, squawking poultry, baskets of eggs, jewellery, pottery, wine, beer, shoes, clothing, cutlery and all the other items that vendors promoted with loud competitive zeal. The powerful aroma of the market was compounded of many individual elements, the most enticing being that of freshly baked bread. The two women enjoyed it all immensely. Golde was pleased to see how well Alys stood up to what was a tiring expedition. They were on their feet for a long time and buffeting shoulders took their toll.
‘How do you feel?’ she asked.
‘Very well.’
‘You looked quite ill during the banquet.’
‘I was tired, that’s all.’
‘You’ve certainly got your colour back today.’
‘And my appetite,’ said Alys with a smile. ‘The sight and smell of all this food is making me hungry. Shall we go back?’
‘I think we’d better or they’ll wonder what’s happened to us.’
Lifted back on to their horses, they made their way to the castle through the steady throng with the few items they had purchased safely packed into a satchel. Their journey took them past the deserted house where the dead body had been found, now attracting the ghoulish interest of some children and a barking dog. When they rode into the castle, an ostler was waiting to assist them to the ground before taking their mounts away to be stabled. Somebody else was waiting for them as well.
‘There you are,’ said Brother Daniel, beaming happily as he swooped down on them. ‘I was hoping to find you.’
‘We’ve been to market, Brother Daniel,’ explained Golde.
‘Yes,’ said Alys. ‘It was wonderful.’
His face clouded. ‘I’m glad that you found something to take your mind off the dreadful crime that came to light yesterday. It still preys on me. Perhaps I should’ve come with you to the market, though I doubt if even that would wipe away the memory of what I saw in that house.’
‘The lord Eustace told us how distressed you were,’ said Golde.
‘He’s been very kind to me.’
‘It must have been a horrid experience for you.’
‘It was, my lady,’ he confessed, ‘but God directed my footsteps for a purpose. I was meant to find that body. It chastened me. Shocking as it was, I think the experience has left me a better and more considerate person.’
‘Nobody could be more considerate than you, Brother Daniel,’ says Alys.
‘Thank you,’ said the monk, shaking off his melancholy. He held up a letter. ‘But this is why I’m so pleased to see you. I have something for you.’
‘For me?’ Alys said in surprise.
‘It’s addressed to both of you.’
‘Who could be writing to us?’ wondered Golde, taking the missive.
‘The servant belonged to the lady Adelaide’s household.’
‘The lady Adelaide?’
‘Open it, Golde,’ urged Alys.
‘No, you take it,’ said the other, passing it to her. ‘You spoke to the lady Adelaide last night. I didn’t.’ She gave a wry smile. ‘Though I heard a great deal about her from my husband. Ralph sat next to her.’
Alys broke the seal. ‘I’ll see what she says.’
‘I’m sorry that you missed the banquet, Brother Daniel,’ said Golde.
‘So am I,’ he replied. ‘But I hear you had an uninvited guest.’
‘Richard de Fontenel. It was his steward whose corpse you found.’ She saw the astonishment on Alys’s face. ‘Good news or bad?’
‘Excellent news,’ said Alys. ‘We’ve been invited to visit the lady Adelaide.’
‘Alone or with our husbands?’
‘Oh, alone. She makes that quite clear.’
Eustace Coureton had no intention of being excluded from the investigation of the two crimes. He plied Ralph Delchard and Gervase Bret with searching questions about their visit to the manor house of Mauger Livarot. ‘What sort of man is the lord Mauger?’
‘The kind that no sensible person would trust,’ said Ralph. ‘Behind that leering smile of his was a selfish, cunning, deceitful man who’d stop at nothing to gain the upper hand over a rival.’
‘Not even at murder?’
‘No, my lord.’
‘Then he could be the culprit?’
‘I didn’t say that. The lord Mauger is certainly capable of stabbing a man to death, though he’d be more likely to thrust the blade into his back than his chest. But I don’t think he’s guilty of this murder. He looked too surprised when he was told about it. Too surprised and too peeved.’