Ralph Delchard was eventually satisfied with his improvisation. It had proved conclusively to him that the wolf captured by Hugh de Brionne had not been the killer. He now turned his attention to the yew tree which had brought both men to that spot in the first place.
Alric had come to deposit silver coin, but Wulfgeat was there in search of something to take away. Ralph was about to thrust a hand into the dark hollow when a sixth sense warned him. He used his sword to probe around and the steel saved him from a very painful end. The sack into which it cut suddenly burst into life and threshed around inside the trunk. Pushing Gervase back out of the way, Ralph jabbed his sword point into the sack, then lifted it right up and tossed it onto the open ground. Its angry inhabitant became even more agitated and the sack twitched violently.
Ralph’s curiosity made him reach forward to tug at the twine around the neck. He stepped back instantly, but there was no response at first. It seemed as if the creature inside the sack was either dead or spurning the opportunity to escape. Gervase moved in for a closer look, but Ralph’s blade stopped him in the nick of time. Out through the folds of the sack came the head of the snake, its eyes alert and its tongue darting. Its slither was slow and measured until it saw them, then it quickened its pace considerably, making a determined wriggle towards Ralph’s ankles. Its fangs were bared to inflict a venomous bite, but it never got close enough to him. His sword point came down with stunning accuracy and pierced through the back of its neck, sinking deep into the ground and leaving it impaled lifelessly.
“That creature was waiting for Wulfgeat,” said Gervase.
“How do you know?”
“Look at the sack.”
“Another from the mill.”
“It was put there to welcome Wulfgeat’s hand.”
“Who would want to set such a trap?”
“Alric’s accomplice.”
“And who is that, Gervase?”
“The same person who gained entry into Eadmer’s mint.”
“You told me that it might be a boy.”
“It was. Cild, son of Alric. This is also his work.”
They handled the sack to make sure that it had come from the same mill and noted Alric’s mark upon it. Ralph now retrieved his sword to make further careful investigation of the yew tree, but there were no more poisonous snakes guarding the absent treasure. All that remained was the block of wood and purse that he himself had put back inside the original sack. Wood and sacks were replaced inside the tree as the two friends considered their next move.
“We must question this boy closely,” said Ralph.
“Not yet,” argued Gervase. “Cild needs time to recover from the shock.
He conducted Wulfgeat to this part of the forest, then waited while he came in search of the chest. The boy expected to find him dying from a snakebite and instead stumbles on his half-eaten remains. No wonder he was still reeling with horror when he returned to the house.”
“Speak to him when you judge it to be fit. You have access to the place. A softer tongue than mine is needed in a house of mourning.”
“I will wait and watch. Cild is still a boy, but he has the cunning of a grown man. He will not confess easily. It will have to be wormed painstakingly out of him.”
Ralph nodded, then turned back to the tree, staring down at the thick tendrils which encircled it with such proprietary zeal. Gervase gave a wry smile.
“This town was well christened,” he said.
“Bedwyn?”
“Its name derives from the Latin for bindweed. Look at this yew tree and you have a symbol of our stay here. All is intertwined confusion.” He gazed back in the direction of the town itself. “A simple assignment brought us here. There was an irregularity in the abbey returns. That is all we knew. Yet from that one tiny seed of doubt has grown this endless convolvulus that twists and turns its way through the whole community. We have met death and decay, fraud and forgery.
And much more may await us before we are done.”
“You are too philosophical,” said Ralph bluntly. “I am no gardener, but I know the way to deal with bindweed.” His sword flashed and the yew tree was freed from its coils. “Cut it away without mercy.”
Gervase was ready to head back to the town, but Ralph was in an exploratory mood. He wanted to see more of Savernake. If the dead wolf had not been responsible for the two deaths, then something else had, and the only place they would find it would be in the forest.
With his sword still at the ready, he climbed farther up the hill until he reached the top. He and Gervase could now survey a wooded slope that swept down into a valley that was more densely timbered. His inquisitiveness was inflamed even more.
“Let us go down there,” he volunteered.
“It will take too long, Ralph.”
“Are you frightened?”
“Of course not.”
“Do you wish to borrow my weapon?”
“I have a dagger in my belt.”
“You are afraid of the exercise, then?”
“That is not so, Ralph.”
“So why do you drag your feet? Am I to tell Alys that you were either too weak or too worried to take a walk among the trees?” He gave a coarse laugh. “If she were with you at this moment, you would stroll through the forest all day.”
“The hunt has already been through here this morning,” said Gervase reasonably. “What can we possibly find that thirty men and a pack of hounds contrived to miss?”
“A great deal,” promised Ralph. “Follow.”
The gradient was steeper on the other side of the hill and they had to grasp at the trunks of saplings to steady themselves. When they reached the valley floor, they heard a stream bubbling nearby and they traced the sound until they found the water. It was a much deeper and wider stream than the one which they had just left and it provided them with a meandering path through this thicker part of the forest. Trees rose up all around them and the overhanging branches sometimes excluded all light, giving a sense of privacy in the half-dark. Birds and insects abounded and smaller animals would occasionally dart from cover for a second before vanishing just as swiftly.
Ralph felt a vague sense of menace that kept his sword up, but Gervase began to warm to this new habitat and to be glad that his friend had made him come on the visit. This section of Savernake was enclosed and well protected. It held no threat for him.
While Ralph Delchard shouldered his way unceremoniously through the undergrowth, therefore, Gervase Bret took the time to look and listen. He played with leaves, he fingered bark, and he picked the wild fruit. He liked the brush of grass against his shins and the swish of bushes against his arms. There was so much to see and enjoy that he wanted to slow down to absorb it all properly, but Ralph was restless. When they stepped into a small clearing, the older man gave it no more than a glance before crossing towards a clump of birches.
“Wait!” said Gervase.
“Why?”
“Hold there!”
“For what reason?”
“Can you not see?”
“No. Let us move on.”
Gervase grabbed him. “Look around you, Ralph!”
He did as requested but still saw nothing that should detain him.
The clearing was oval in shape and no more than thirty yards in diameter. Around its perimeter was a number of mounds of earth that had grassed over. Ralph Delchard had dismissed them with a glance, but Gervase Bret was intrigued. Running to the first misshapen lump, he bent down to examine it, then pulled away the turf which had been used to cover it. What had looked like a natural mound was, in fact, a piece of red sandstone set carefully in the earth. The stone was no more than eighteen inches high, but it had been crudely dressed to shape. Gervase was thrilled with his discovery. He scam-pered around the clearing and snatched the turf away from each of the mounds until all were uncovered, then he moved to the centre of the clearing with Ralph. The grassy lumps on the ground were now revealed as a circle of stones set at regular intervals. Gervase was fascinated.