Ask for our scribe, Brother Benedict. You will find him locked up in the dungeon on suspicion of having aided Boio’s escape.’
Thorkell was shocked. ‘A monk thrown into custody?’
‘Until we can get him out again. And the only way that we can do that is to deliver up a murderer to the lord Henry. Someone with a motive to kill Martin Reynard and the means to do so.’
‘His kinsman has a motive.’
‘But where are the means?’
‘I do not know, Master Bret.’
‘Someone crushed the victim to death.’
‘Or broke his bones with clubs to make his injuries mislead you.’
‘We were not misled,’ Ralph assured him. ‘We both viewed the body in the morgue. Someone wrestled with Martin Reynard and squeezed him until the last drop of life ebbed away. I could well imagine that slinking Grimketel wanting to do the deed himself but he lacks both the strength and the courage.’
‘You have weighed him up well,’ said Thorkell.
‘He is no fighter, my lord. Break wind and you blow him over.’
The old Saxon chuckled but he remained vigilant. Had Gervase Bret come alone, Thorkell might have been persuaded of the honesty of his intentions but the presence of Ralph Delchard and his men-at-arms brought a faint element of menace. It was far safer to keep all of them at arm’s length until he had plumbed their true character.
‘Thank you for coming here,’ he said guardedly. ‘I am glad to be forewarned of the lord Henry’s approach. He too will suspect that I am hiding Boio and he will be a more demanding visitor than you have been.’
‘We must not let him find us here,’ said Ralph, turning his horse to leave. ‘That would not help anyone’s cause. Come, Gervase.’
‘Ride on ahead. I will catch you up in a minute.’
‘Do not delay. The lord Henry will not be far distant.’
After waving a farewell, Ralph led his men off at a steady trot.
Gervase nudged his horse closer to Thorkell and leaned down to him.
‘I am hoping that you may be able to help me, my lord.’
‘How?’
‘Do you know a woman called Asmoth?’
‘No.’
‘I believe that she may live on one of your estates.’
‘It is very possible,’ said the other. ‘But I have — thank God -
many holdings in this county. I do not know the name of everyone who dwells on them. What sort of a woman is this Asmoth?’
‘Once seen she would not be forgotten. A plump woman about my own age. She might be pretty if it were not for the hare lip.’
‘Hare lip! Is that her?’
‘You know Asmoth?’
‘Not by name but that hare lip picks her out at once,’ said Thorkell. ‘A terrible affliction for a comely wench. I know this creature. She lives with her father over at Roundshill.’
‘That is here in the Stoneleigh hundred, is it not?’
‘Yes, Master Bret.’
‘Where in Roundshill might I find her?’
Thorkell grinned. ‘There are not many houses to choose from.
It is barely a hamlet. Everyone there will know Asmoth. What is your interest in this woman?’
‘She may be able to help us, my lord. First, we ride to Coventry.’
‘Why there?’
‘We search for a man who could save Boio’s life.’
‘Only a miracle worker could do that.’
‘Yes,’ said Gervase. ‘That is the very man we seek.’
They had found a quiet corner near the marketplace. Someone had broken the ice on the stone trough and the donkey was drinking noisily from it. Ursa perched on the edge of the trough beside his master. The dwarf was still filled with excitement over what he had witnessed.
‘How did you do it, old man?’ he said. ‘How? How?’
‘By the power of prayer.’
‘I used to pray daily that I would grow to be six feet tall and look what happened. So much for the power of prayer.’
‘Ah,’ said the old man, ‘but you did not believe. I do.’
‘Believe in what?’
‘The benevolence of God.’
‘It does not exist, my friend.’
‘But it does.’
‘For you, perhaps, but not for me. How can I believe in a benevolent God when I am afraid to see myself reflected in this water here? Only a malign God would send someone into the world in this shape.’
‘That is not so.’
‘So how was it done? The miracle? Explain the trick.’
‘There is no trick.’
‘There has to be.’ The dwarf smacked his palms together. ‘I have it. They were your accomplices.’
‘Who?’
‘The boy and his father.’
‘No, they were not.’
‘That is why you told everyone that they were coming from some distance to see you. It gave you a chance to build up expectations when all the while your confederates were lurking nearby.’
‘I have no confederates.’
‘The boy only pretended to be possessed.’
‘What you saw was real, I swear it.’
‘Nobody can cure simply by laying on of hands.’
‘I can, my friend,’ said the old man with a benign smile. ‘And that is what I did. You were my witness.’
‘He was not the only one!’ said a sharp voice.
They looked up to see a monk approaching with two armed men at his heels. Pleasantries were cast aside. When the monk pointed an accusatory finger at the old man, the miracle worker was seized in a tight grip and dragged off. The dwarf protested loudly and his bear added his roared complaint but the old man himself seemed quite philosophical about his arrest. As they took him in the direction of the monastery, his donkey trotted meekly behind him. It seemed used to such violent treatment of its master.
Chapter Ten
The ride north to Coventry gave Ralph and Gervase an opportunity to assess the situation more thoroughly and to make contingency plans. It also took them through countryside which, even when dressed in the starkness of winter, had an undeniable beauty.
As woodland gave way to undulating fields which seemed to roll on for ever, they came to understand why so many holdings in the county were the subject of dispute. Nobody would yield an acre of such prime land unless they were forced to do so. While surveying the scene all around them, Ralph and Gervase rode ahead of their escort and raised their voices above the clatter of the hoofbeats.
‘What if the old man is not in Coventry?’ said Ralph.
‘He will be.’
‘How can you be so certain?’
‘I sense it, Ralph.’
‘He may have moved on by now.’
‘There is no other town in the north of Warwickshire,’ argued Gervase. ‘The weather alone will encourage him to stay in Coventry. If he travels by donkey he does not move fast so he will think twice about braving a long journey to the next town of any size. And the one thing we do know about him is that he is old. He will pace himself.’
‘I wish that I could,’ said Ralph. ‘I grow weary.’
‘That is nonsense!’
‘No, it is not.’
‘Be honest. You are glad to be back in the saddle again.’
‘Am I?’
‘Would you rather be ensconced at the shire hall?’
‘Listening to that dreary debate? Never, Gervase. There was a point yesterday afternoon when I thought that I would die of boredom.’ He gave a chuckle. ‘You are right. I prefer action. We just have to hope that our journey will not be in vain.’
‘It will not.’
‘It will be if the blacksmith is taken.’
‘My guess is that he will elude them somehow,’ said Gervase.
‘If he has the guile to escape from the castle he will know how to hide from the posse at his heels.’
‘The lord Henry is determined. He will search every blade of grass in the county until he finds him.’
‘By that time, we may have proved Boio’s innocence.’
‘We will need more than the old man’s testimony.’
‘We will find it, Ralph. On our return journey, we will take the road to Roundshill and call on Asmoth. There is much she has held back. I am sure that she has valuable information about Boio if only we can coax it out of her. She may even know where he is hiding.’