Golde laughed. “Be off with you!”
“Pine for me.”
“Just take care, Ralph,” she said, giving him a kiss. “This man is dangerous. He will not scruple to kill.”
“Nor will I.”
He let himself out of the house and she waved him off through the open shutters. Golde was about to go into the kitchen when she heard the baby crying upstairs again. It was a noise which had punctuated much of the night. Osbern came down the stairs in a state of consternation.
“What is the matter?” she asked.
“The baby. Something ails him.”
“Do you wish me to go to him?”
“Eadgyth is nursing him in her arms. That seems to soothe him from time to time. But the pain returns.”
“Pain?”
“In his ear,” said Osbern. “He keeps putting his little hand up to it. I slept in a chair beside Eadgyth. The crib was in the bedchamber with us. We must have woken a dozen times in the night to see to the baby.”
“Poor little child!”
“I’ll send a servant for Helto the Doctor.”
“There are none here, Osbern,” she said. “Two have gone to market to buy food and the third is saddling my husband’s horse in the stables. Let me go for Helto.”
“You do not know the way, my lady.”
“Teach me.”
“This is too menial a task for you. I’ll go myself.”
“You are needed here,” argued Golde as a fresh burst of noise came from above. “Stay with your wife and child. Now, where does Helto live?”
“At the end of King Street. It is not far.”
“Give me directions.”
When the reeve had explained the route to her, Golde put on her gown, adjusted her wimple and slipped out of the house. She was soon caught up in the morning throng. Anxious to do what she could to relieve the recurring anxieties in the household, she thought only of Eadgyth and the baby. After such a disturbed night, both would need the services of a doctor. Golde was so preoccupied with helping them that she forgot to consider herself.
As she pushed her way through the gathering crowds, it never occurred to her that she was being followed.
Fortune favoured them. They had not expected to get their opportunity so soon. Instead of having to contrive a way to lure Golde out of the house, they found her a willing accomplice in their scheme. They moved in closer. She had almost reached King Street when they struck. Stopping to check her bearings, Golde was suddenly grabbed from behind by strong hands and shoved down a muddy alleyway. Her struggles were pointless against two burly men and her scream went unheard as a large hand was clamped over her mouth.
They were proficient at their trade. She was bound and gagged in less than a minute and an evil-smelling sack was dropped over her head. One of them lifted her bodily and carried her over his shoulder while the other led the way down the alleyway and into a narrow lane to avoid being seen. Hundreds of people were within earshot but Golde could call to none of them. When a bell rang nearby in the parish church of St. Alphege, it sounded to her like a death knell.
Golde had been kidnapped. She did not know why or by whom but she was in serious danger. Yet even in the blind panic of her abduction, the thought that was uppermost in her mind concerned others. What would they think at the house when the doctor did not come to attend to the baby?
Alain heard the commotion from a mile away. It was not just the daily tumult of the city. It had a military ring to it. As he got closer, he could pick out the jingle of harness and the march of feet. Westgate seemed to have been turned into a small garrison.
A troop of soldiers came trotting toward him and he scurried off the road at once, hiding his face from them as they passed, and being spattered by the lumps of mud thrown up by uncaring hooves. He struggled on his way.
He was forty yards from Westgate when the soldier ambled toward him with his hands on his hips. The man spat on the ground with contempt.
“Be off with you!” he snarled. “We want none of your filth here!
Go to the wood and graze with the other swine.”
Alain was not unused to such abuse. It went hand in hand with the fear of leprosy that everyone felt. Some gave alms to assuage their conscience, some passed by on the other side of the street and some took pleasure in treating him like a stray dog who had to be chased away. Alain felt no anger. Resignation was an easier way to cope.
The soldier took a few menacing steps toward him.
“Take your rotting arse away from here!” he yelled.
“I have come to see someone,” said Alain.
The man was taken aback at first to hear the sound of French coming from a creature he assumed must be Saxon. It did not increase his sympathy or lessen his scorn.
“Find somewhere else to beg!”
“But I have to see a friend in Canterbury.”
“You have no friends.”
“His name is Master Gervase Bret.”
“Crawl away, you cur!”
“He is a royal commissioner.”
“Ha!” The man let out a peal of mocking laughter. “You’ll be asking for the Archbishop of Canterbury next!”
“I must see Master Bret.”
“Meet him at court in Winchester.”
“I have an important message for him.”
“I have one for you-fart off!”
“Let me wait at the gate until he comes out.”
“And infect the rest of us?” sneered the man, taking his sword from his scabbard. “Disappear before I help you on your way. Go!
Go!”
He rushed at Alain with his sword flailing and the leper turned tail at once, rushing away so fast that he tripped and fell headlong into the mud. The soldier bellowed his coarse amusement. When Alain got up painfully to skulk away, the man hurled a final taunt at him.
“I’ll give your regards to the royal commissioner!”
Alain had never missed Bertha more than at that moment.
Concern set in after thirty minutes. When there was no sign of Golde or the doctor after an hour, that concern turned to great agitation. Osbern the Reeve stood outside his front door to look up and down the street. Gervase Bret was with him.
“They should have been here long ago,” he said.
“Perhaps Golde lost her way,” suggested Gervase.
“It would be difficult.”
“What if Helto was not at home? She might be waiting for him at his house.”
“She is much more likely to have left a message for him and come back here to explain the delay. I am worried, Master Bret.
I’ll hasten to King Street this minute.”
“Then I’ll keep you company.”
On the hurried journey to the doctor’s house, Gervase tried to reassure Osbern but he knew that he was really hoping to reassure himself. Golde’s disappearance was ominous. When Eadgyth vanished, it was on impulse. This was very different.
Golde was running an errand which should have taken her no more than ten or fifteen minutes.
When they got to Helto’s house, neither she nor the doctor was there. The servant told them that his master was making his first call of the day on Alwin the Sailor in Worthgate Ward because of the seriousness of the patient’s condition. Nobody had come in search of the doctor while he was away.
Gervase and Osbern were baffled. They left instructions that Helto was to be sent to the reeve’s house immediately on his return, then they made their way slowly back, scouring every street, lane and alleyway they passed in case Golde had strayed into one of them by mistake. The search was fruitless. When they reached the house in Burgate Ward, they were more dismayed than ever.
“This is dreadful!” said Osbern, wringing his hands. “I cannot believe that any harm would befall her on the short journey to Helto. Unless she herself was taken ill.”
“No,” said Gervase. “Golde was in the best of health.”
“Could she have met with some accident?”
“I think it unlikely.”
“Then what is the explanation?”
“I do not know.”
“Assault? Foul play?”