The jingle of harness made him stand up. Eight riders were coming his way. They reined in close by and one of them jumped down and walked toward the wattle huts. Recognising Gervase from his profile and gait, Alain hailed him. Gervase trotted across to the church, relieved to find that he did not have to rouse the leper from his sleep.
“We need your help, Alain,” he said.
“What could I possibly do?”
“Lead us to the orchard where you found that piece of material.
It was torn from Bertha’s apparel. I matched it to her kirtle.
Bertha was there.”
“Why?”
“Assist us and we may find out.”
“In the dark?”
“It is not the orchard that interests us,” explained Gervase,
“but the house beyond. Will you take us there?”
“I have no reason.”
“This is no casual request, Alain.”
“I would rather stay here at the hospital.”
“Bertha’s killer is in that house.”
The leper was stunned. “I’ll take you at once, Master Bret,” he volunteered. “But it is a mile or more and my pace is slow. You will have to be patient with me.”
“Ride my horse.”
“You do not mind?”
“Nor more will he, Alain,” said Gervase. “We need to get there as soon as possible. Lead the way.”
The men-at-arms backed away when they saw the leper coming and they were amazed when Gervase actually helped him up into the saddle. When they set off in single file, fear of infection kept the soldiers several yards behind their pathfinder. Ralph, too, had severe reservations about using a leper as their guide.
Gervase was seated behind Ralph on his destrier, as they moved along the path at a steady trot.
“This is another wild-goose chase,” hissed Ralph.
“Trust me, it is not,” said Gervase.
“I do not want to lead an assault on another house to find that our only prisoners are a priest and his wife.”
“Clerical marriage is forbidden. That is why Reinbald had to keep it secret. The archbishop has insisted on a celibate clergy.
If he knew the truth, he would throw poor Reinbald out of St.
Mildred’s and eject the priest who married them privily from his little church in Faversham. Besides,” said Gervase, as a branch brushed the side of his face, “the raid was not in vain. We learned much.”
“Yes,” conceded Ralph. “We learned that Reinbald has a comely wife. No wonder he risked his neck to reach her.”
“He told us of the man he saw at midnight, riding by a different way to the manor house ahead of us. Reinbald also told us who lives there.”
“Mauger. One of the archbishop’s knights.”
“The sheriff’s officers and the archbishop’s men have searched every dwelling in the area except the ones that are above suspicion. Their own. Philippe Berbizier is completely safe while he is under Mauger’s roof.”
“But how did he get there? Golde was so certain that she met him at Helto’s house. How on earth could the rogue get out of Canterbury?”
“Reinbald has given us the answer to that as well.”
“I did not hear it.”
“Who lives at the manor house?”
“Mauger. One of the archbishop’s …” Ralph caught up with Gervase’s faster mind. “Of course! Berbizier rode through the gates disguised as a soldier.”
“A man who will lend him a house will just as readily supply him with a helm and hauberk. Even Reinbald the Priest would pass unnoticed in those.”
Ralph chuckled. “I’ll wager that he’d enjoy letting that pretty wife of his help him out of them.”
Alain slowed to a halt at the edge of the orchard and they dismounted with the minimum of noise, tying their horses to low branches before setting off through the apple trees with a cautious urgency. Alain trailed after them at a more laboured pace. When the house came in sight, they could see the light through the shutters. They could also hear the horses neighing in the stables, suggesting a larger number of occupants than they had found at the cottage.
Ralph saw a problem at once. Two dogs were patrolling the courtyard, sniffing their way across its uneven surface until some sound in the darkness made them lift their heads. Unable to avoid the animals in order to reach the front door, Ralph decided to make use of them and he sent a hushed command along the line. His men spread out once more to approach from different angles.
When they were close enough, Gervase plucked an apple from the nearest tree and threw it just beyond the dogs. As it rolled across the courtyard and away from the house, they turned to race after it. Ralph and his men ran to take up their places near the front door. Gervase then flung two more apples from close range, hitting the same dog twice and making him bark loudly. As more fruit came hurtling out of the darkness at them, both dogs made such a clamorous noise that a servant came out to explore with a lantern.
One blow from Ralph knocked him senseless. He crept through the door with his men at his heels. They were in.
There were twelve of them in the circle. Philippe Berbizier stood in the centre, conducting a service with mocking echoes of the Latin Mass heard daily in every church and cathedral.
“Introibo ad altare Dei,” he chanted.
“Ad Deum qui laetificat iuventutem meam,” came the response.
“Adiutorum nostrum in nomine Domini.”
“Qui fecit caelum te terram.”
As the dialogue between celebrant and congregation continued, he walked to the young girl who had just been admitted to the circle and who was trembling with holy joy. Placing his hands on her head, Berbizier blessed her and welcomed her into the sect.
She dropped to her knees in an attitude of submission and kissed his bare feet. He looked down fondly at her and stroked her hair.
It was at this point that Ralph burst in with his men, all of them with drawn swords and clear orders. As the service broke up with screams and yells of protest, the soldiers formed a larger circle of their own to hold the group prisoner. Only Mauger himself, a stout man of middle height, tried to fight his way clear, but a swordpoint at his chest persuaded him to resume his seat.
Helto the Doctor tried to bluff his way out of the situation.
Rising to his feet, he gave Ralph an oily smile.
“This is not quite what it seems, my lord.”
“Silence!” snarled Ralph, felling him with a blow from his mailed fist. “I did not like what I found in your cellar, Helto. We will have more words about that before I have finished.”
Helto cowered on the floor and looked up in alarm at Philippe Berbizier. The Frenchman remained calm and poised. Gervase came in to take stock of the situation. He had expected to find Mauger and Helto in the circle but not the three young women, the two priests and the Benedicrtine monk. The rest of the sect was made up of lay members who, judging from the quality of their attire, were men of some substance.
Ralph Delchard was only interested in the leader. He gave a command and his men herded everyone else into a corner so that their master could confront Berbizier. Showing no fear, the Frenchman strolled to the chair at the centre of the circle and lowered himself nonchalantly into it. He smiled helpfully.
“How may we help you, my lord?”
“By standing trial for two murders,” said Ralph.
“Murders? I am a man of peace.”
“Brother Martin did not die peacefully.”
“He took his own life with poison. I watched him.”
“What about Bertha?”
“She was bitten by a snake.”
“I see him before me, trying to hide his fangs.” He looked around with disgust. “So these are your followers, are they? Was Bertha dragged into this lunacy by you?”