“You said you’d worked the matter out with him, that you’d persuaded him it was best he stay.”
“And when I’m not here to go on ‘persuading’ him”- Reynold gave the word a different twist, broad with threat behind it-“he won’t stay, let me promise you.”
“You’ve promised me much, including help in paying him!”
“If I go, you still won’t have the money for it and he’ll be gone and you won’t persuade him back or any other masons to come instead and where’s your tower then?”
“Where is it now?”
Reynold spread his hands. “Say the word and you’ll have stone here in a day or so.”
“Stolen!” Alys accused. “You’d steal it in Banbury!”
“And why not?” Hugh asked. “He’s stolen everything else he’s brought you.”
Reynold slid him a hard sideways look. “Be quiet.”
Alys found her chest too tight for breath, had to fight for it before she could force out, “What?”
Reynold spread his hands, grinning wryly, asking her to share the jest. “How else could I come by it?”
“Pay for it, like everyone else!”
“The way you’ve paid your masons?”
“I’ll pay them! I’ve never meant to steal from them. There’ll be money for it and soon enough, too!”
“From where?” Reynold mocked.
He always turned to mocking when he thought he was going to win an argument without needing to lose his temper, but this time Alys had an answer and said triumphantly, “We had a miracle in the church this afternoon. Sister Thomasine cured a madman.”
“So?” Reynold asked.
She knew he was being deliberately thick and said, wanting to make him admit to what she had, “He was mute and witless and now he’s on his knees in front of the altar, praying.” Or he had better be. She had given orders for it to be seen to.
“And?” Reynold asked.
“Don’t be stupid, Reynold! Before Sister Thomasine touched him, he couldn’t speak, didn’t know where he was or what was happening to him. Now he’s cured! When word goes out there’s been a healing here and people start to come, there’ll be money enough for the tower and whatever else I want.”
“If they come.”
“They’ll come.” Of that Alys was positive. To doubt it after she had seen the miracle with her own eyes would be the same as doubting God.
“They very well might,” Hugh agreed.
“Be quiet!” Reynold snapped at him again.
“Reynold,” Alys said, “the point is, the straightest way out is for you to go before you drag the priory into more trouble than you have.”
“Than we have, Alys my girl,” Reynold said. “You’ve had most of the profit from my thieving, when all’s said and done and totaled up.”
“But I didn’t know until now that that was what was happening!”
“And so you’ll say, but will you be believed?”
“I’m more likely to be believed if you’re not still here when sheriff and crowner come!”
“And when the Fenners come?”
The constriction in her chest came back, worse than before. She could not always tell when Reynold was jesting, but she knew when he was utterly serious. “Fenners,” she said.
Reynold shrugged. “At least a few.”
That was a jest. There was no such thing as “a few” Fenners. They were like crows-seen solitary sometimes and even sometimes quarreling among themselves but flocking loud and fierce together at any outward threat to one or any of them. There were no “few” Fenners. She looked desperately at Hugh. “It isn’t Fenners you’ve been raiding.” Silently she pleaded for him to tell her that, to tell her that Reynold had not been raiding Fenners and bringing what he stole back here and that he had not killed on Fenner property today.
Hugh made no answer except a level stare directly back at her that was answer enough and too much.
She slammed her hands down on her chair, facing Reynold in a rage. “You fool! What were you thinking of?”
Reynold swung his scabbarded sword up to rest across his knees and leaned forward over it, not touched by her anger, saying earnestly, “Alys, Alys, think about it. It’s a quarrel that’s been shaping a long while. It was time to bring it to a head and be done with it.”
What was he talking about? The quarrel they had with the Fenners had been in abeyance for years, with Godfrey properties finally left in Fenner hands when the legal fees looked to rise higher than the properties were worth.
“That was over years ago,” she protested.
“Not over,” Reynold said. “Only waiting to come to life again. It’s been long enough. It’s time they paid us back for all they cost us.”
“I don’t recall they ever cost you a penny,” Hugh said.
“Neither you nor your father were ever the ones who took it to court.” No, it had been Hugh’s father had done that, Alys remembered.
Reynold ignored him, concentrating on her. “Alys, I’ve raided the Fenners and they haven’t been able to do anything about it. I’ve shown what can be done against them, that they’re vulnerable, and I’ve sent out word I’ve done it. In a few days more there’ll be at least a score more Godfreys here, satisfied I can do what I said I’d do, and then we’ll set a raid against the Fenners-one great raid that will pay back for everything and have back our lands for good measure at the end of it.”
Alys shook her head, wanting to refuse what he was saying. “Why use me for that? Why use St. Frideswide’s?”
“You’re not a place anyone would come looking first when trying to find out who was doing this to Fenner lands. That was a way to buy us more time. And you’re better walled than any of my properties, so a better defense when we’re found out. And even when we are, whoever finds us will think twice about attacking a nunnery and that buys us more time, for more men to join the game. And they will. There’ll be men in plenty and not just Godfreys who’ll come for this sport.”
Alys came around her chair and sank slowly into it, her legs not able to hold up the weight of pain in her head, the weight of pain in her heart. That was why he was here? Because he needed her nunnery. And he expected her to let it go on happening?
“Alys, listen.” He leaned farther forward, reached out to lay his hand on hers. She drew it away from him, refusing to look at him, staring past him into a shadowed corner of the room. He rested his hand on the arm of her chair and went on, “You see how you’ve made it possible to come this near to having at the Fenners? I can’t leave here now. It’s too late to break this off.”
“Of course the dead Fenner villein ups the stakes,” Hugh said. “Thieving is one thing. Killing is another.”
Reynold made an exasperated sound. “Forget the villein. If it ever comes to having to explain it, it was Godard killed him after he struck Godard, and now Godard is dead and there’s an end to it.”
“Our men will go along with that, but I doubt the villagers will,” Sir Hugh said.
“They will if they’re told what will happen to them if they don’t,” Sir Reynold snapped. “Don’t make trouble where there doesn’t have to be.”
“You can’t stay here,” Alys said. She looked at Hugh. “Make him understand he has to leave.”
“He won’t listen to me either.”
“Don’t give me this!” Reynold said angrily. “You’ve been part of this every step of the way, Hugh. Don’t try slipping out of it now.”
“You’ve pushed the thing too far, too fast. I’ve been telling you that,” Hugh answered.
“And if we pull back now, what happens?” Reynold demanded.
“If we don’t pull back now, what’s going to happen?” Hugh returned.