At last he could see an opening in the trees. He began to move even more slowly, inch by inch, with the infinite patience of a lizard hunting a fly, until he came into the lee of a massive oak and could stand silently watching from under its protection.
There was a sudden rustling as if two kittens were playing on the leafy floor. Simon concentrated. He could discern nothing in the gloom ahead, too much was obscured by the boles of the trees. Gradually he relaxed his grip on his sword-hilt and flexed his hand as he listened, feeling the sweat break out cold and chilling. But there was still nothing. He wiped the sweat from his palm and gripped his sword again, then crept forward, carefully moving from tree to tree as he made a wide circle around the clearing.
As he moved forward he could catch brief, frustrating glimpses: now a great oak, now a towering elm. It was as if there was a tapestry that had been roughly cut into pieces and he was trying to put it together in his mind, arranging the various parts and trying to associate them although the threads around each section were badly frayed, making it impossible to be sure which connected with which. All he could do was attempt to build the picture.
At last, when he had almost half-circled the empty area, he felt he could not continue, and began to edge his way in towards it. The blood was pounding in his ears with the tenseness of his fear and excitement as he moved forward at a crawling pace until he was at the very edge of the trees.
In the dim light he could see the ground clearly. His eyes flitted over the space, looking for any signs of humans or animals, but there seemed to be nothing. No sign of man, no blackened remains of a fire, no parcels or packs lying on the ground, no gleam of metal where a sword lay. Suddenly he felt his fear return, concentrated and almost overpowering in its intensity. There, just a few yards in front of him, lay a small pyramid of horse’s dung. For a horse to have created so perfect a shape, it must have been stationary. It must have been tethered there, surely. Had the robbers been here? And if they had been, where were they now? He paused and considered. There had been a horse in the clearing, at least one. Either it was the abbot’s or it was one of the robbers“. Could the abbot have escaped? If he had, could this be from his horse? But then, what if this horse belonged to a robber? He could be close by. His eyes quickly flitted all over the ground again, but even as he gazed all round, he started wondering. If it was the abbot’s, where was he? And what if it was a robber’s horse? Had they rested here last night and then ridden on? Or were they even now waiting, watching him, preparing to attack?
He studied the area again and tried to clear his mind, trying to decide what to do. It seemed impossible to make a clear choice, to know what was best. Go on or return to the road? Deferring the choice and frowning, he continued his slow progress.
It was only when he had almost managed to get all the way around it that he smelt the burned wood and cooked meat. Slowly he eased himself into a crouch, sniffing as quietly as he could. It was not the smell of a fresh fire, it seemed damp and dead. There was no acrid smoke, no sharp tang to the smell, just a dull, burned odour that was almost stale. It seemed to come from over to his right, just a little further on.
The bailiff offered up a quick prayer, his eyes closed, then peered all around again. He felt that he had been stalking for days – the fatigue was giving him cramps in his legs – and it seemed, now he was close to the end of the trail, that the tiredness was settling on him heavily, like a leaden cloak that smothered mind and muscles alike. He could not control a swift, hopeful glance over his shoulder, as if he half-expected to see the posse coming through the trees towards him, but there was no one there. He would have to go on alone. His teeth clenched, he dropped silently to crawl on his hands and knees towards the smell.
After only a short distance he came to another small clearing, a slight opening in the trees where the trunks were not so closely crowded together, and carefully looked in. From here he could smell the old fire: someone must have made camp here, far away from the nearest houses and any risk of discovery. There it was, just by a tree some twenty yards away that had been blackened by the heat. Even if the smoke had been seen, nobody would have come this deep into the woods to investigate. He could see little apart from the dark smudge of the blackened undergrowth between the trunks that stood between him and the clearing, so he began another slow and careful progress around the camp, crawling from tree to tree, stopping and watching, then moving on again. There was no sound, no movement. It was as if the camp had been abandoned years before and had been left, undisturbed and untouched by human or creature.
Then he heard the yap again and, even as he tensed at the unexpected noise, he saw two foxes gambolling around, near the old fire, springing and jumping as gleefully as kittens.
With a brief flare of impatience, now that it seemed that his careful tracking was all in vain and there was no reason to be afraid, he stood up carefully and scrutinised the clearing. It seemed absolutely deserted apart from the two creatures. Nothing else moved. The only noises were from the trees as, high above, a breeze caught the branches. Taken with a sudden fit of anger at the thought that his exertions had been unnecessary, he bellowed out, “Is anybody there?”
His only response was the sudden explosion of noise as the two foxes bolted in their terror, both leaping for the safety of the dark trees at the edge of the clearing. Then the silence returned. There was nothing to betray a human’s presence, not even the scuffle of a man woken by his shout trying to grab at a club or sword: nothing. Simon drew his sword and, steeling himself, slowly crept forward until he was at the edge of the trees. As soon as he reached the fringe, he rushed on, running to crouch in the middle of the open space, whirling and glaring around, his sword grasped in both hands and the hot blood hammering in his ears.
But there was nothing. No one sprang to attack him, no one ran away into the surrounding trees, there was not even the sound of a disturbed animal to break the all-embracing silence. Gradually, shrugging shamefacedly, he relaxed, and lowered the point of his sword, taking stock. The clearing was only some twenty yards across and there was nowhere for anyone to hide apart from in among the trees.
There was no sign that anybody had ever been here apart from the fire. He turned and looked for the blackened embers to see how long the clearing had been empty. It lay over at the other side of the clearing from him, a darker stain among the shadows.
He wandered over towards it, but as he drew near, his feet-started to falter, and he stumbled as he frowned at the tree. He had only covered half the distance when he stopped. Eyes wide in horror, he gagged and dropped to his knees, staring at the patch of burned grass and the tree in front of him.
With a high scream, he turned and ran, rushing away from the sight in a mad, panicked flight back to the road.
The smell of cooked meat came from the man who had been roasted, like a convicted witch, over the flames.
Chapter Twelve
When Tanner and the others arrived, the constable was surprised to find the monk and the bailiff sitting by the side of the road in front of a small fire. The monk rose immediately and ran to greet them, his nervous features cracking with an expression of desperate relief, and when Tanner caught a glimpse of the bailiff he began to understand why he was grateful for the new arrivals. Simon did not move. He sat still and quiet with his cloak wrapped tightly around him as he stared into the fire. Tanner dismounted and walked over to him.
“Thank God you’ve arrived! We were wondering whether you’d all wait for morning before coming and we didn’t want to stay here alone all night,” said the monk, breathlessly, as Tanner walked to the bailiff. The constable nodded absently and continued on, leaving the monk to welcome the others.