He straddled his chest and held a dagger to Trouville’s throat.
‘A forester taught me that fall,’ said Ralph, still panting.
‘Get off me!’
‘Not until you tell the truth.’
‘You heard it. I did not kill Grimketel.’
‘I fancy that your men will sing a different song.’
‘Look,’ pleaded Trouville, breathing stertorously, ‘we sit in commission together. I expect help from you. All that happened was this, I swear. When I got to the house, Grimketel was locked up inside. He let me in when he saw that I brought a warning and he begged me to leave men to guard him. He was terrified of Boio. When I refused to help him, he grabbed me and began to yell at me. I tried to push him off, that is all, the merest shove.
Then his head struck the floor.’
‘Tell the same lie to the lord Henry at your trial.’
‘If you help me, there will be no trial. Please, my lord. We can work out a story between us. What is the death of an insect like Grimketel? It is nothing. Forget it. I look to be a sheriff soon. I can be a valuable friend to you. Help me out of this situation and you can call on me for anything. What do you say?’
‘Good night, my lord!’
Ralph’s punch landed on his chin and knocked him senseless.
There was no sign of her when they reached Roundshill and neither her father nor her neighbours had any idea where Asmoth might be. Gervase and Golde searched the immediate vicinity, then gave up. They were about to head back towards Warwick when Gervase remembered the first time he had met the woman.
‘I know where she might be, Golde.’
‘Where?’
‘I will show you.’
The overhanging trees managed to shield them from most of the rain but they still got thoroughly wet before they reached the forge. A light was flickering in the half-dark. Someone had lit a fire.
Asmoth was there, sitting in the forge where she had sat so often to talk with Boio and simply enjoy his company. The flames gave her light but nothing like the surging warmth of the blacksmith’s fire when he made it roar. Lost in reverie, she did not hear the horses. When Gervase stepped in with Golde, Asmoth jumped up with a start. He calmed her and introduced his companion whose smile immediately helped to melt some of the woman’s reserve.
‘Is there any more word of Boio?’ said Asmoth.
‘He will be fine,’ Gervase assured her. ‘I have seen to that.’
‘The abbey will not hand him over to the lord Henry?’
‘No, Asmoth. We called on Thorkell of Warwick. He has gone to Coventry in person to make sure that no harm comes to his blacksmith.’
‘Does that mean Boio will come home?’
‘Probably not. Too much has happened.’
‘I know,’ said Asmoth, head drooping in resignation.
All three of them talked on but Gervase slowly dropped out of the conversation, leaving Golde to win the other woman over with her mixture of concern and soft questioning. It was a lengthy process. Every time that Asmoth got to the verge of a confession, she drew back out of fear. Golde did not hurry her. Complete trust had to be established before the truth came out. When she judged that the moment had arrived, Golde reached out to touch the woman’s arm.
‘You saved Boio’s life. Do you realise that?’ she said.
‘He would have done the same for me.’
‘I know. He loves you, Asmoth.’ The words brought a rare smile out of the woman. ‘What did he tell you? When you met him yesterday what did you talk about?’
‘Everything.’
‘Was he an honest man?’
‘Very honest.’
‘He held nothing back?’
‘No, my lady.’
‘What did he say?’ whispered Golde. ‘It will not get either of you into trouble, whatever it was. Boio is safe and nobody but a few of us know that you were the friend who helped him to escape.
But we, too, have laboured hard to help him, as you know. We have done all we can. We would like to think that we may be entitled to the truth.’ She looked into the woman’s eyes. ‘Are we?’
Asmoth gazed from one to the other, assailed by last-minute doubts yet clearly distressed by the burden of the knowledge she carried. She wrestled in silence for a long while before coming to a decision and blurting out her story. There was mingled guilt and pride in her voice.
‘Boio is my friend,’ she said. ‘When others laughed at me, he was kind. That is why I came here so often to see him. Boio liked me. He wanted me here. We told each other secrets.’ She winced at a memory. ‘Everything was fine until this man came along.’
‘What man?’
‘Was it Martin Reynard?’ guessed Gervase.
Asmoth nodded. ‘He treated Boio like dirt. He thought he was so stupid that he would not understand anything. This man was reeve to Thorkell but he came to the forge to meet someone from the castle. One of the men-at-arms. Boio could see who he was.
They used the forge because it was halfway between Thorkell’s manor house and the castle. Boio was always thrown out while they talked but he was not stupid, my lady. He could not understand them when they spoke French but he guessed what they were doing and he saw the reeve giving things to the man from the castle.’
‘What sort of things?’ asked Golde.
‘Documents?’ suggested Gervase.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Boio did not know what to do. He was certain that the reeve was betraying Thorkell in some way but it was only his word against the other’s. And the man was clever. It upset Boio. It was not right, what the reeve was doing. Boio wanted to stop him but he did not know how. And then …’ She buried her face in both hands.
Golde slipped a consoling arm around her shoulders.
‘Take your time, Asmoth. There is no hurry.’
‘And then,’ resumed the girl through a sob, ‘something else happened with the man. The reeve was not very nice. He was cruel and hard. Everyone disliked him.’
‘Why was that? Did he bother them?’ Asmoth nodded. ‘Did he bother you as well?’ The woman nodded again and sobbed more loudly. ‘Did he do more than bother you?’
Asmoth could not look at them. Her eye remained on the fire.
‘I was bathing in the stream. The man came up behind me. He did not see my face or it would have turned him away as it turned away every other man but Boio. I know I am ugly; I have got used to it. But the reeve grabbed me from behind and dragged me into the bushes …’
They waited until she had cried her fill. Golde held her throughout and asked for no details. Gervase realised why the woman had been quite unable to confide in him earlier and felt uneasy at being there now. Golde helped her to dry her eyes.
‘Did you tell Boio?’
‘Not at first.’
‘But you did in the end?’
‘Yes.’
‘What did he do?’
‘He went to see the reeve. They had an argument. People overheard them. The man was angry because Boio had shown no respect. He got drunk that night and came to the forge to teach Boio a lesson. He brought a club. He hit Boio with it.’ She hunched her shoulders. ‘Boio had to defend himself. He struck out. The man taunted him about me and hit him harder. Boio took the club off him and they began to wrestle. The man was saying foul things and Boio just squeezed …’
There was a long pause. Golde glanced over at Gervase.
‘Did he carry the body to the forest that night?’ he asked.
‘Yes,’ said Asmoth.
‘Did he go back again next morning at dawn?’
‘No. Grimketel was lying.’
‘Did you know any of this when I came to the forge with Brother Benedict and you swore to us that Boio was innocent?’
‘He is innocent. He did not intend to kill anyone. He was forced to it.’
‘Did you know, Asmoth?’
‘No!’
‘Would you have helped him escape if you had?’