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‘I have had a good time here in Coventry,’ he said blithely.

‘But they arrested you.’

‘Even bad things have a good side to them. I had the pleasure of meeting the bishop himself and discussing the Word of God with him. And,’ he continued, indicating Reginald, ‘I was also able to meet his holy brother here. It has been a privilege. But they are not the only friends I have met. We spent the night with Ursa and his master.’

‘Ursa?’

‘A performing bear.’

‘How did you meet him?’

When the old man recalled the bear’s antics in the marketplace, he actually managed to make the blacksmith laugh. Bound up in his own problems for the last few days, Boio found the tale diverting enough to forget them. Laughter was a blessed relief.

Brother Reginald took another view. The men had not been brought together to enjoy each other’s company but to furnish information. Since they were no longer doing that the conversation was abruptly terminated.

The guard took Huna by the arm and led him to the door. Boio was deeply distressed to see him go. He reached out a hand in supplication.

‘Huna!’

‘Yes, my friend.’

‘What is going to happen to me?’

‘You will be saved,’ said the old man with a grin.

‘Saved? But how?’

‘I will perform another miracle.’

Warwick Castle was bustling with activity long before dawn. Its constable was ready to depart for Coventry at first light with twenty armed men at his back, a sufficient display of force, he felt, to incline both abbot and bishop to accede to his demands.

Ralph Delchard was not far behind him, riding out of the gate with six of his men and veering off on the road towards the Forest of Arden. It was a brisk morning but the sun soon appeared to gild the countryside and to lift their spirits. In a place as large and sprawling as the forest, it was not easy to track down the man they were after but they eventually found him on patrol around the fringes. Ralph and his men surrounded him.

‘Warin the Forester?’

‘Yes, my lord,’ said the man politely.

‘My name is Ralph Delchard. I am in Warwick with others on the King’s business and, in a sense, that is what has brought me here. The protection of his forests is very much the King’s business.’

‘He will hear no complaints about us.’

‘No, the lord Henry tells me that you all know your occupation.’

‘I was born to it, my lord.’

Warin had an easy assurance. He was a sturdy man, almost six feet in height, and his weathered face had a craggy handsomeness. He was not afraid that seven men in helm and hauberk had accosted him.

‘Is the hunting good?’ asked Ralph.

‘Very good, my lord. You must ride here with the lord Henry.’

‘He is engaged in another hunt at the moment.’

‘We have roe deer and fallow deer in abundance.’

‘So I hear.’

‘Everyone who hunts here is pleased.’

‘Does that include Grimketel?’

‘Grimketel?’ said Warin, his manner becoming more circumspect. ‘I do not know the man.’

‘Then you will not have heard that he has been murdered.’

‘Murdered? When?’ A shadow of fear passed across his face.

‘You show surprising concern for the death of a man you do not even know,’ said Ralph. ‘And I suppose you know nothing about the carcasses of three fallow deer I found hanging in his outhouse?’

‘No, my lord. Was this man a poacher?’

‘In the pay of Adam Reynard — but you have probably never heard of him either, have you?’ Ralph dismounted. ‘It is too cold to bandy words out here. Reynard has confessed to me. He names you as the accomplice who helped Grimketel to poach those deer.’

‘Then he is lying!’

‘Is he?’

Warin saw the glint in the other’s eye and knew that he was trapped. Denial was pointless. His only hope lay in trying to ingratiate himself. He flashed a deathly grin at Ralph.

‘I am no poacher, my lord,’ he said. ‘To take deer I am paid to protect would be a terrible crime. Grimketel had rights of warren, that is how I came to meet him. He asked me to look the other way from time to time, that is the height of my offence.’

‘That would be bad enough in itself but there is far more, Warin.

You know the habits of deer, Grimketel did not. The only way for him to fill Adam Reynard’s larder was to have your assistance.

When did you catch them? The deer I saw looked as if they were killed earlier this week.’ He gave an enquiring smile. ‘It wouldn’t happen to be on the same morning that a dead body was found in the forest, would it?’

‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘I think you do, my friend.’ Ralph looked him up and down, trying to assess his strength. ‘What I am wondering is whether you should face a more serious charge than poaching.’

‘More serious?’

‘Wrestle with me.’

‘What?’

‘Wrestle with me,’ said Ralph. ‘Try a fall.’

‘Why?’

‘Just do it, man!’

Ralph jumped at him and they grappled hard. Though Warin had no wish for combat, he defended himself well. Catching Ralph off balance, he suddenly hurled him to the ground, then went into a gabbled apology. Ralph climbed to his feet with a grin and dusted himself off.

‘You are a strong man, Warin,’ he said approvingly. ‘Strong enough to throw me and strong enough — perhaps — to get the better of Martin Reynard.’ He snapped an order. ‘Seize him!’

Asmoth did not sleep at all throughout the night. It was not only because of her father’s wheezing and coughing, nor because she had to get up from time to time to give him water, comfort him, tuck him into bed then mend the fire. Those duties were such second nature to her now that she could perform them when only half awake. What kept her fretting on her mattress was her fear for Boio’s safety. When she dropped him off near Coventry on the previous day, she did not even know if he would reach the abbey, let alone be given sanctuary there, and she wished he had let her go with him. But he insisted that she had taken enough risks for him already and urged her to return the horse and cart before going back to her sick father. Even in his extremity, Boio had concern for her.

Dawn found her still caught up in her recriminations. Her father’s needs then took over. She made and served him some breakfast, soothed him until he dropped off to sleep once more, then put the last of the logs on the fire. As she gazed into the flames, she thought of the crackling blaze at the forge and of the many happy hours she had sat beside it as she talked with her friend. Whatever happened now, she might never see Boio again.

The only way she would know his fate was by waiting to pick up gossip from her neighbours. The thought made her head spin.

She made herself a meal but found she had no appetite to eat it.

When she left the house, someone was waiting outside for her.

‘Hello, Asmoth,’ said Gervase gently.

‘What are you doing here?’ she said, instantly alarmed.

‘There is no need to worry. I will not harm you. I brought an escort but I made them wait a distance away so that they would not frighten you. I just wanted to talk to you, that is all.’

‘Have you brought news of Boio?’

‘He claimed right of sanctuary at the abbey in Coventry.’

‘They have taken him in?’

‘Yes.’

She heaved a sigh of relief. Her efforts had all been worthwhile.

‘I came to see you yesterday,’ he said.

‘Here?’

‘Yes. A man down the road told me that you would not be here.

You had borrowed his horse and cart to take your father to Warwick.’

‘That was right.’

‘But your father was still here. I talked with him.’