‘What will become of him?’ asked the dwarf.
‘That depends on me.’
‘How can you help him?’
‘I do not know yet but I will devise a way. But what of you?’
‘We came to bid farewell, old man,’ said the other sadly. ‘Ursa and I will quit the town tomorrow.’
‘Where will I find you until then?’
‘In the stable with your donkey.’
‘Good,’ said Huna. ‘If they let me out, I may be able to show you another miracle and teach you the trick of it.’
‘I would love to learn it, Huna. What miracle will you perform?’
‘I will make a man walk through stone walls.’
The dwarf grinned in approval then let out a yell of pain as the bear tired of supporting him and turned mutinous, tossing his master uncaringly on to the ground before letting out a penitent whine and somersaulting around him in a vain bid to win back his favour.
It was well into the afternoon when Ralph and his men finally got to Coventry and they headed straight for the abbey. There was no sign of Philippe Trouville but Henry Beaumont was standing outside the gate of the abbey, conferring with the captain of his men-at-arms. Ralph noted that the soldiers were stationed at intervals around the whole building.
‘Call off the siege, my lord,’ he commanded, riding up.
‘Why?’ asked Henry.
‘Because you pursue an innocent man.’
‘Boio is a fugitive from justice.’
‘Not any more. Grimketel’s testimony was false. I can prove it.’
‘What witness will you call?’ said Henry cynically. ‘Some doddering old man who had his donkey shoed free?’
‘No, my lord. One of your own men.’
‘Mine?’
‘Warin the Forester.’
Ralph dismounted and told him of his encounter in the forest.
Henry would not believe him at first but the detail Ralph was able to give was too convincing and he was forced to accept it.
‘Warin will rot in my dungeon!’ he vowed. ‘With Adam Reynard alongside him. Nobody poaches my deer.’
‘There is a more heinous crime here as well.’
‘Is there?’
‘They were ready to stand back and watch Boio die for a murder that he did not commit. Grimketel was the main offender but these other two are accessories.’ Ralph gestured at the abbey. ‘Now will you call off the hounds and let Boio walk out of there a free man?’
‘No, I will not!’
‘But you must, my lord.’
‘Why?’
‘Because the blacksmith did not kill Martin Reynard.’
‘He escaped from my castle,’ said Henry sourly. ‘That is a crime in itself. And he injured one of my guards in doing so. That adds a charge of assault. Then there is the second death. Boio will stand trial for the murder of Grimketel.’
‘He could not possibly have killed him.’
‘You saw the evidence yourself.’
‘What I saw,’ said Ralph with slow deliberation, ‘was the lord Philippe kneeling over the body and telling me that Boio had just fled.’
‘That is exactly what happened.’
‘Then why could you not find him?’
‘He eluded us.’
‘He was never there, my lord. You must have spoken with the abbot or the bishop by now and, as I see, were given a dusty answer. Did they say what time Boio arrived here yesterday?’
‘Shortly before vespers.’
‘There is your proof,’ insisted Ralph. ‘Even with wings on his heels, Boio could not have run all the way from Grimketel’s house to the abbey in so short a time. It was a journey halfway across the county.’
‘He must have had a horse.’
‘The fastest mount would not have got him here in time for the vespers bell. Think hard, my lord. You know when Grimketel’s body was discovered because you sent the lord Philippe to his house to warn him.’
‘That is true,’ conceded the other.
‘At that point in time, Boio must already have been well on his way to Coventry. Even you must see that.’
Henry Beaumont tried hard to find a flaw in Ralph’s argument but he could not. He was reluctant to surrender the second charge of murder against the blacksmith and he groped around wildly for ways to implicate him somehow. At length he gave in. He saw that Boio could not have killed Grimketel. The face of a new suspect came into his mind.
‘Yes, my lord,’ said Ralph, reading his expression.
‘But why? He had no motive.’
‘Does a man like the lord Philippe need a motive? He is given to violent impulses. The lady Marguerite said as much to both our wives. Have you not noticed the rush of blood which comes to his face?’
Henry thought of the way that Trouville had run down the poacher in the forest and of his desire to raid an abbey in search of their prize. He was also enraged at the thought that they had searched so hard for Grimketel’s killer when he was actually alongside them. It threw him into a state of complete ambivalence.
He did not know whether to stay at the abbey or go in search of the man. Ralph made the decision for him.
‘Let me go, my lord,’ he offered. ‘Where is he?’
‘I sent him to call on my brother at Brinklow Castle. He has been anxious to make Robert’s acquaintance ever since he arrived in the county and I hoped that the ride out there would give the lord Philippe a chance to cool down.’
‘Cool down?’
‘He was all for reducing the abbey to ashes.’
Ralph pulled a face. ‘Leave him to me,’ he said.
Robert de Limesey’s irritation was rapidly approaching the point of outright frenzy and he did not want to let himself down in front of Brother Reginald. The bishop was making another doomed attempt to interrogate Huna and to break down the old man’s resistance until he readily confessed to witchcraft. Instead of that, Huna’s mind and tongue seemed to have been sharpened by his time in the gaol, a place from which he brought aromatic memories which assaulted the sensitive nostrils of the bishop so much that he had incense sprinkled in his chamber before the examination began.
‘Why do you lie to us?’ asked the bishop.
‘If you describe a truthful answer as a falsehood then we will get nowhere,’ said Huna. ‘I am what I am, as you well see.’
‘A sorcerer.’
‘Wherein does my sorcery lie, my lord bishop? I cured a sick boy. Doctors are curing their patients every day in this town.
Will you arrest them all and burn them at the stake?’
‘They are trained to use proper medicines.’
‘Why, so was I. My mother trained me. Proper medicines, as you call them, are made up of herbal compounds. So are my potions.’
‘You did not cure that boy with a potion.’
‘But I did,’ said Huna. ‘I used the most powerful medicine of all. Belief in God. You have seen as well as anyone what wonders it brings about. The whole of Christendom is a tribute to that belief. That was the only potion I used. A compound of faith and love.’
‘Saints preserve us! Will this fellow never stop?’
‘You charged me yesterday with aspiring to be like Jesus Christ,’
recalled Huna. ‘But I could never aspire to such goodness. Jesus could turn water to wine, walk on water and raise a man from the dead. I can do none of these things. My miracles are of a much lower order but they have a true Christian purpose. The man who came to me had faith, that is why he brought his son to be cured. He had faith in me and faith in God’s power to work through me.’ He beamed at them. ‘That is why his son was carried here from his home but was able to walk away, sound in body and mind.’
‘We have examined both father and son.’
‘Do they lay charges against me?’
‘No.’
‘Did they tell you that I used sorcery?’
‘They are too ignorant to know.’
‘Do you think I practise black arts?’
‘What Brother Reginald and I think is that you are either a clever trickster or a cunning sorcerer and we want neither of them in this town.’ Reginald nodded his agreement as his master’s vituperation poured out. ‘You are to leave Coventry by dawn tomorrow. If you are ever caught in this town again — or anywhere in my diocese of Lichfield — you will be tried for witchcraft without compunction. Is that clear? We will tie you to a stake and burn the evil out of you with holy flames.’ He rose to his feet and pointed to the door. ‘Now take yourself and your disgusting stink out of the abbey and leave Brother Reginald and me to deal with the much more important matter which occupies us at the moment.’