“Much thanks for your help.”
“’Tis I who must thank you. You said that your fee for treating my fistula would be three shillings. I have no coin, no possessions. Abbot Peter must award the fee.”
“He will not do so,” I said.
“I fear not. He’ll use as excuse that I did not seek his permission for your work.”
“It may be nearing time for vigils. I should be away before the office.”
Brother Theodore stood from his bench when I rose from mine and bade me Godspeed, and when I had departed his cell closed the door softly behind me. I cautiously moved from the guest house to the entry, tossed the cowl over my head, and walked brazenly past the abbot’s kitchen toward the reredorter and infirmary. If any man saw me I wanted to appear as a man about his lawful business, not some skulking culprit trying to avoid discovery.
I had entered the orchard when from the church tower I heard the sacrist ring the bell for vigils. I hid behind the trunk of one of the larger apple trees till I was sure that the monks had assembled in the church. When I heard the sound of the office carrying over the still night air I felt safe in removing my shoes and stepping into the ditch to escape the abbey in the same manner I had entered.
I slept that night in Bruce’s stall, cold and wet, or more precisely, wet and cold, since I was cold because I was wet, not wet because I was cold. I piled clean straw in a corner of the stall, burrowed into it, and wrapped the black woolen habit about me to ward off the chill. Sometime in the night I briefly awoke, and, as if in a dream, a scheme to ensnare John Thrale’s murderers came to me.
Next morn I returned the soiled habit to the threadmaker’s wife, purchased a loaf from the baker, retrieved my sack of instruments from the New Inn, and set out for Oxford. Bruce is not a beast to be hurried, but we crossed the Thames at Southbridge and passed through the New Gate well before midday.
My destination was the castle, and a conversation with Sir Roger de Elmerugg. The Sheriff is an old friend to Lord Gilbert, and I intended to present him with the facts of John Thrale’s death and Amice Thatcher’s abduction, then propose to him a plan whereby the felons might indict themselves.
I am well acquainted with Oxford Castle, even its dungeon, having spent some days there falsely accused of stealing my own fur coat. Thoughts of the coat reminded me that I would be more comfortable this day was I wearing it, and that it was nearly the season to remove it from storage in my chest and place it again in service.
I left Bruce in the castle forecourt, found my way to the Sheriff’s anteroom, and asked the clerk if Sir Roger was in. The clerk remembered me as Lord Gilbert Talbot’s man and immediately rose from behind his desk to crack open the door behind him and announce me. The anteroom was empty of supplicants, which surprised me, as the Sheriff is generally besieged by those who seek his favor.
Sir Roger possesses the most impressive eyebrows of any man I know. He invited me into his chamber, asked my business, and as I told him the tale of John Thrale, Amice Thatcher, and Sybil Montagu he scowled till his eyebrows became a single bristling appendage.
“Those squires are surely guilty of murder,” Sir Roger said when I had completed the tale. “But Sir John will prevent their punishment, unless you find more proof against them.”
“I thought as much, and have devised a plan.”
“’Tis near time for dinner. Tell me of it whilst we dine.”
Sir Roger keeps a good table. His cook presented the Sheriff and his guests with a first remove of aloes of lamb, pomme dorryce, and parsley bread with honey butter. For the second remove there was a fruit-and-salmon pie, herb fritters, and cabbage with marrow. For the third remove we enjoyed a pottage of eggs, capon farced, and a cherry pottage. I must remember, when my business requires me again to call upon Sir Roger, to do so at the dinner hour.
I told the Sheriff of my scheme while we consumed the meal, and he agreed with but a few modifications. Immediately after dinner I sought Bruce, hoisted my overfed self to the saddle, and set out over Bookbinder’s Bridge and past Osney Abbey for Bampton. I arrived at Galen House as the evening Angelus Bell rang from the Church of St. Beornwald, dismissed the grooms who watched there, and sent them to the castle with Bruce.
Whether or not my scheme to seize two murderers succeeded depended upon Amice Thatcher. After a supper of pease pottage she put her children to bed, and I drew benches near the fire to explain what was needed of her, if the squires who slew John Thrale and seized her were to be impeached for the felonies. She was at first reluctant, as would be the cheese if asked if it wished to be placed in a trap for rats, for the plot would place her in some peril. But when I assured her that her children would be safe in Bampton, and sergeants from Oxford Castle as well as grooms from Bampton Castle would see to her protection, she agreed.
This was with some hesitation, but as she considered how the villains had robbed her of a secure future, she became more agreeable to the role she must play. Snares, to be successful, must be baited.
I was a little surprised that Osbert also seemed averse to the plan. It did not concern him. So I thought.
Chapter 15
That night, as we lay abed, Kate told me that Amice had lately shown much concern for Osbert’s care, applying the ointment of pears and moneywort twice each day. I had hopes that the salve would not only help the healing of his wounds, but soften them so that he could bend without opening the scars, both now and in the future.
“She is much concerned for Osbert, and when I told her that he must soon be returned to East Hanney she was woeful.”
“The day cannot be put off much longer,” I replied. “He is a young man and is healing rapidly now.”
“And he has a skilled surgeon to treat his wounds.”
After a night in the straw of the stables behind the New Inn I slept well in my own bed. Following a loaf and ale I sought the castle, found Arthur and Uctred, and told them to make ready tomorrow to travel to Abingdon and there meet six of Sir Roger’s sergeants. Together nine men should be sufficient to capture two felons if I was successful in luring them to their ruin.
I am usually oblivious to the behavior of females about me. I speak and read two languages in addition to my own; French and Latin. But I have never been much conversant in feminine. This may be considered strange, as ’tis the speech of half the realm. I think I am not alone in this ignorance. So if Kate had not told me of it, I would likely not have noticed how solicitous Amice had become for Osbert’s recovery.
Next morn I observed her regard for Osbert. The man was healing well under her care. I would soon have to devise some plan to see him safe from Sir Philip’s wrath, but not that day. One scheme at a time.
Early Friday morn, Kate took Bessie and Amice’s two children to the castle, there to remain in my old bachelor quarters till this matter was resolved. Osbert was enough recovered that he could remain alone in Galen House, although he could not defend it. If the felonious squires did not swallow my bait and instead returned to Galen House, they would have no reason to do him harm.
After Kate and the children were established in Bampton Castle, Arthur, Uctred, Amice, and I set out for Abingdon. Uctred drove John Thrale’s horse and cart, and Amice rode therein, while Arthur and I were once again mounted upon Bruce and the old grey palfrey.
It was important that Amice not be seen returning to her home in the company of three men, so she climbed down from the cart while we were yet a mile from Abingdon and entered the town alone. Uctred followed Arthur and me to the New Inn, and immediately after Arthur dismounted from the palfrey I sent him off to the bury, there to watch over Amice until Uctred, I, and six sergeants from Oxford Castle might join him.