‘I grant you that. He gives lavishly to the poor.’
As she turned away she said, ‘Thank you, Hubert. I must say you played Montjoie like a master angler enticing a fish onto your line.’
‘I always do my best for you, Hildegard.’
As he raised a hand in farewell he said, ‘You’ve changed again. I never know what you’re going to be like towards me. You’re more variable than the weather.’
**
If you only knew, she thought as she trailed off to the couriers’ office, I’m always the same underneath. It’s only suspicion and doubts in these terrible times that make me seem to change towards you. And you are such an infinitely skilful fisherman. I fear the hook.
They could not dwell in the same building without some heart-stir like a sickness, nor meet without some well of healing opening up by being in proximity. Yet suspicion cut them asunder. And the bonds of allegiance bound them to different masters. And nothing could come of it.
**
The esquires were crossing the yard, Edmund and Bertram, followed by Elfric and Simon and when they spotted her they changed tack and soon surrounded her. Nobody broke step. In the busy courtyard it must have looked like a natural configuration to anyone watching.
Edmund. Scarcely moving his lips. ‘We spoke to the sentry.’
‘So did I. What did he tell you?’
‘He saw nobody else go onto the bridge except for the cardinals and your friend Abbot de Courcy.’
‘What were his words?’
‘He said: after them lot went over nobody else showed themselves until one or two left the Coq and ran under the bridge, out of the wet.’
‘That’s where the girls who don’t work at le Coq ply their trade, is it?’
Edmund, blushing, nodded. ‘Nobody was there because of the weather.’ He added sheepishly in the voice of the sentry, ‘No point in plying your trade with no punters, is there?’
‘Quite!’
What a night to be unable to get back into the palace. All because somebody forgot to leave a gate unlocked.
‘Did he say anything about hearing the uproar from le Coq?’
‘No. He said it was too windy to hear anything and he only found out about it when it was light and folk wanted to bring their carts across.’
‘Do you think Taillefer was one of those who ran under the bridge?’
‘Not for that he wouldn’t.’
‘I know about Yolande.’
‘There you are then.’
‘Is that all?’
‘Fraid so.’
Without changing pace the boys peeled off to wherever they were originally heading.
Hildegard went down to have a look at the side gate. The guards nodded her through into the street. That interfering nun. Where’s it got her?
She paced round the outside of the walls. When she came to the little postern, the side gate, it was locked.
She returned to the palace, back through the gatehouse, located the same gate from the inside. No key. When a servant went shuffling by with a sack of something she called a question to him.
‘Kept locked, domina. Second steward has the key.’
She went to find the second steward.
‘A matter of some discretion, master, may we step outside?’
They went into one of the nearby courtyards where the vast amounts of produce needed to feed the hundreds in the palace was stored.
‘The little side gate in the wall, I know you were helpful to the young lads wanting to get out into the town for a bit of fun. How did it work? Did you leave it unlocked most of the time or did they have a key?’
He glanced over his shoulder. ‘I don’t know how you found out - ’
‘And I’m not going to tell you. Discretion is the word I used.’
‘Thank you, domina, most grateful, my genuine thanks. I’ll tell you this. I used to open it before midnight and lock up again just after lauds. What went on in between is not my concern.’
‘If they didn’t get back before it was locked?’
‘Then the young sinner would have to go back to where he’d been bedding down outside till the gatehouse was opened up, get me?’
‘Indeed. Did it often happen?’
‘What?’
‘That somebody would be accidentally locked out?’
‘Ah, I understand. This is about young master Taillefer. Poor soul.’ He crossed himself. ‘He was unlucky. With it being the devil’s weather that night I thought they’d all stayed in the palace so I didn’t bother to unlock it at all.’ He paused. ‘That’s funny.’
‘What is?’
‘I never thought to wonder how he got out till now.’
Hildegard thanked him and walked away before he could have any more inconvenient wonderings.
A door that could be left unlocked to allow people who were in to get out. And a door that could also be left unlocked to allow those out to get in? It meant that anyone from outside who knew about this arrangement would have no difficulty in getting inside the palace whenever they chose.
**
That mysterious time in the early hours between matins and lauds when most people were asleep. A night of rain. A raging wind. The river in flood. And two figures running under the bridge. Was that the key?
**
And now the squirrel. Red and sleek as a chestnut. Small paws like human hands. Observant eyes that seemed to hold an answer as the child whispered her stories to him.
‘Flora, your squirrel is so sweet,’ said Hildegard, ‘but he’s a creature used to living in the wilds. Does he make an awful mess everywhere?’
The child pointed to a broom and a small pail in a corner of the chamber
‘Do get someone to remove it all, cara.’ Carlotta frowned and brushed her skirt as if the squirrel had suddenly spoiled it.
**
Hildegard was unable to prevent an icey shiver running up her spine as her suspicions were confirmed. She watched the little girl carefully sweep up after the squirrel and brush the droppings into the pail.
Someone carrying the squirrel had entered the nun’s death chamber.
Surely it can’t be Fondi, she admonished herself. He’s a friend of Hubert.
And Hubert was a Clementist.
She tried to remember if Fondi had been told that she and Hubert were not returning to Avignon that night when they went out hawking for the day.
She went to find Hubert in the small ante chamber Fondi used as a scriptorium where he appeared to be writing a letter. And without mentioning squirrels she asked him when he had told Fondi they were going to be away for the night.
‘I didn’t tell him. How could I? He was here in his villa and anyway, until we were actually riding our horses out onto the palace foregate it would have been premature. I wasn’t sure you’d come with me, let alone stay overnight.’
‘He thought I’d return to the palace that night then?’
‘I’ve no idea. He probably didn’t even know we’d left.’ He looked thoughtful. ‘What’s on your mind?’
‘Nothing.’
**
At last the couriers’ clerk had received a message for her. It was not from England, however, but from Aquitaine. As English as makes no difference she could hear the miners claim.
It was couched in ambiguous terms in order not to incriminate her or her accomplices when it was read by the censor. It began, ‘Dearest sister mine’ and continued as if written by a merchant accompanied by his wife, referring to ‘the companion of my heart’ and their trade which was going well, the gist being that they had found a spice merchant travelling in a hurry and had gone with him through France until they reached English territory. They had even gone on to Bordeaux with him and were now waiting for passage in a wine ship but, it continued, her brother was strongly tempted to stay with the English army and make his fortune by using his special skills to improve the appearance of a few Burgundian castles.