The Vanishing Witch (3 page)

He had acquired his wealth painstakingly over the years, for though he was a numbskull in matters of love, he was shrewd in business. He’d bought a stretch of the land on the bank of the river Witham from a widow after her husband’s
death, having persuaded her it was worth little, which you could argue was the truth: the ground was too marshy even for sheep to thrive on it. But a Lincoln merchant must have boats to send his goods to the great port at Boston and boatmen must have somewhere to live close to the river: Robert had built a few cottages on the wasteland and earned a good sum renting them to those who carried his
cargoes. If ‘earn’ is the right word for money that a man demands from others but never collects in person. And, believe me, there were many men in England that year who had cause to resent all such landlords . . .

Robert banged his pewter beaker of small ale on the long table. The slumbering members jerked upright, glowering at him. Had not the newcomer the common courtesy to let a man sleep
in peace?

‘I say again,’ Robert announced, ‘we must petition King Richard to give us leave to raise an additional tax in Lincoln to rebuild the guildhall.’ He gestured to the ominous cracks in the stone wall, which were almost wide enough to insert a finger in. ‘If another wagon should crash into the pillar below, it will bring us all tumbling down into the street.’

‘But the townspeople will
never stand for it,’ Hugh de Garwell protested. ‘Thanks to John of Gaunt whispering in the young King’s ear, the commonality have already been bled dry to raise money for these pointless wars in France and Scotland.’

Several council members glanced uneasily at one another. It was hard to determine how far you could criticise the boy-king in public without being accused of treason, and while King
Richard might yet forgive much, his uncle, John of Gaunt, had spies everywhere and was known to deal ruthlessly with any man who so much as muttered a complaint in his sleep. And since Gaunt was constable of Lincoln Castle, no one in that chamber could be certain that one of his fellow council members was not in that devil’s pay.

Robert regarded Hugh sourly. They were, for the most part, good
friends, but it irritated him that Hugh seemed convinced a city could be run on pennies and pig-swill. He heaved himself from the chair and paced to the small window, trying to ease the cramp in his legs, as he stared down at the crowds milling below.

‘See there! Three carts trying to barge through the arch at the same time and none of them willing to give way to another. The people may not want
to pay, but if this building collapses on top of them, dozens will be crushed in the rubble. Then they’ll be demanding to know why we didn’t do something sooner.’

‘So tax the guilds to pay for it, not the poor alewives and labourers,’ Hugh said. ‘The Guild of Merchants alone is wealthy enough to build a dozen new halls, if they were to sell some of the gold and silver they have locked away. They’ve
grown as fat as maggots on the carcass of this city, so they . . .’

But Robert wasn’t listening. His attention had been caught by a woman standing quite still among the bustle of the crowd, staring up at the window. She was clad in a dark blue gown, over which she wore a sleeveless surcoat of scarlet, embroidered with silver threads. Even at that distance, Robert could tell from the way the cloth
hung, accentuating her slender figure, and from the vivid, even quality of the dye that it was of the best. His thumb and fingers twitched as if they itched to feel the weave.

Ever the merchant, Robert always took more notice of the cloth a woman wore than her face and he probably wouldn’t have taken another glance at her, except that she was gazing up at him intently. He stared back. He couldn’t
distinguish her features clearly enough to determine her age, though the gleaming black hair beneath her silver fret suggested youth.

She seemed to make up her mind about something and, with a nod towards him, she threaded her way through the jostling pedlars to the door that led up to the council chamber and disappeared.

A merchant who prides himself on his calm and calculated reasoning is
not a man to act on impulse but, to his surprise, Robert found himself striding rapidly to the door and out onto the staircase, leaving Hugh staring after him open-mouthed.

Robert, descending the steep spiral stairs with care, fully expected to encounter the woman on her way up, but he reached the bottom without passing anyone and found only the watchman squatting in the doorway, picking his
teeth with the tip of his knife blade. On sensing Robert behind him, he hauled himself upwards against the wall, and made a clumsy half-bow.

Robert eyed him with disgust. His tunic was open and covered with the stains of ancient meals and his hairy belly was so large that it hung over his breeches. Robert was portly, but a wealthy man was expected to look sleek and well-fed. A watchman, on the
other hand, was supposed to be as fit as a battle-hardened soldier, ready to defend his betters against danger. This blubber-arse looked as if he’d collapse if he was obliged even to lift his pike, never mind fight with it.

‘Did a woman come to the door a few moments ago?’ Robert demanded.

‘A woman, you say?’ The watchman scratched his navel, gazing absently at the passing crowd. ‘Aye, there
was a woman. Matter of fact, she were asking for you, Master Robert. But I told her, I says, Master Robert’s an important man. He’s in council, and he’ll not thank you for disturbing him and the other gentlemen.’

Robert frowned. It was not unheard of for women to buy or sell in the cloth trade, especially if their husbands were absent, but why should she come to the guildhall, rather than his
place of business? Robert’s son, Jan, who was also his steward, would still be hard at work in the warehouse at this hour, which was why Robert could afford to waste an afternoon on the city’s affairs.

‘Did this woman leave a message, her name? Where am I to find her?’

He had asked the man three questions at once, which was like throwing three sticks for a dog: it wouldn’t know which to chase
first. The watchman pondered for an age, then admitted he couldn’t answer any.

‘You should have asked her business,’ Robert snapped.

The watchman gave Robert a resentful look. ‘They pay me to keep people out as shouldn’t be in there, not to ask their business, which is their own affair.’

Frustrated, Robert lumbered back up the stairs, steeling himself to re-enter the stuffy chamber.

The debate
had not moved on by a jot or tittle since he’d left. He wondered, not for the first time, whether the Common Council ever managed to reach agreement about anything. He pictured them still sitting round that table in a hundred years, their beards grown to the floor, cobwebs hanging from their ears, wagging their gnarled fingers and repeating for the thousandth time what someone else had said not
five minutes before.

Robert had never been accustomed to consulting others. Once he had made up his mind to do something, he began it at once. He’d no more patience for these endless discussions than he would have to stitch a tapestry. Perhaps that was why he found his thoughts constantly wandering to the still figure who’d stared up at him so intently. He couldn’t drive her image from his head.

If you fear that you are in the presence of a witch, clench both your hands into fists with the thumbs tucked under your fingers. Then she cannot enchant your mind.

I did not intend to fall in love. In truth, I had not set eyes on Master Robert before that hour when I stood outside the guildhall. I didn’t know then that he was the man looking down from the window. But
on that sultry September afternoon, Robert of Bassingham and I were about to find ourselves both pieces and players in a game of romance, both slayer and sacrifice. But of all the players who were to be drawn with us into that dangerous game, none could have guessed who would finally call checkmate.

Although I did not know Master Robert, I knew well his reputation and had come to the guildhall
that day for the sole purpose of speaking with him. My children and I were newly arrived in Lincoln and I had no kin in the city to whom I could turn. Many men, and women too, delight in seeking out the vulnerable to gain their trust, only to rob them of all they have. I was determined not to become their prey.

But if I had believed the gossip of my neighbours, as they waited for the butcher
to slice a piece of cow’s tongue or the fishmonger to knock a live carp on the head, I would have concluded there was not a single man of sound character left within the city walls. A woman called Maud, who lived in the same street as I, was the worst of the tale-bearers, with a tongue as sharp and malicious as the devil’s pitchfork. Before long I knew which men drank, who beat their wives and who
had a string of whores. I learned the name of every feckless husband who’d lost his money in wagers on the fighting cocks, and all the miserly fathers who made their children wear splintered barrel-staves on their feet to save on shoe-leather.

But I knew how to sift the words of others and so it was that, in spite of what the witch, Maud, had said about him and his little weaknesses, or perhaps
because
of what she had said, I came to believe that of all the men in Lincoln the one I should seek out was Robert of Bassingham.

I thought carefully about how I should approach him. A merchant like Master Robert would be pestered by all manner of people begging for his precious time and I feared I might be brushed aside. But if you want to capture the attention of a thief you flash a gold coin,
if a scholar a rare book, so I had taken care to dress in a gown that would gladden the heart of any cloth merchant.

I’d meant to wait patiently outside until the meeting of the Common Council ended and ask someone to conduct me to him, so we might speak in the privacy of the empty chamber, but as I waited a man came to the window and stared down at me so fixedly that I was ashamed to be seen
loitering and approached the watchman to ask if Robert was within. I was dismissed as though I were a stew-house whore.

A weaker woman might have given up. Not I. I’d already discovered that Robert of Bassingham had a warehouse on the Braytheforde harbour so I made my way there, hoping he might return.

The banks of the Braytheforde were crowded with warehouses and taverns, chandlers and boatyards.
The screams of the gulls mingled with the shouts of the workers, the hammering and sawing of the boat builders. Men strode past, carrying long planks on their shoulders, and women hurried by, with panniers of fish on their backs. Everyone was scurrying about, so it was hard to find anyone who would stop long enough to point out Robert’s warehouse. Finally a boatman gestured towards the largest
and busiest building on the quayside, a great wooden structure facing the jetty where little boats were moored.

A man with red-gold hair was standing with his back to me in the doorway, directing the men who were offloading bales from a nearby boat and hefting them into the warehouse. He turned as I approached and his mouth stretched into an easy smile, as if he was always ready to call any stranger
‘friend’. I realised he was far too young to be the man I sought.

‘Forgive me for disturbing your work,’ I said. ‘I’m looking for Master Robert of Bassingham. Is he within?’

‘My father? No, mistress. He’s one of the Common Council and they’re sitting this afternoon, but he’ll probably call here before returning home. He usually does, to be sure I haven’t burned the place down or struck some
ruinous deal.’ The young man grimaced. ‘I may be his son and his steward, but he watches me closely.’

I couldn’t help smiling. ‘I’m sure he trusts you, but a good merchant keeps his eye on every detail. No doubt that was how he became successful.’

The young man laughed, showing fine white teeth. ‘You know my father well, mistress. That is exactly what he says.’

‘I know him not at all, but that
was what my own late husband used to tell me.’ I hesitated. ‘Do you think your father would spare me a few words on his return? I seek his advice in matter of some investments. I’m told there is none better, unless, of course, you can assist me.’ I touched his sleeve. ‘I’m sure you must know as much as your father.’

He flushed with pleasure. I had no intention of taking counsel from such a callow
youth, but men are always flattered to be trusted. Compliment them on their handsome appearance – as I might have done now without a word of a lie – and they grow suspicious. Ask a man for his advice and he purrs and preens like a tom-cat.

Robert’s son gave a modest shrug. ‘I’ve worked with him since I was a boy and have run his business for some time now. And I do know—’

‘And what is it you
know, Jan?’ a voice boomed.

Jan’s chin jerked up and a flicker of annoyance crossed his face.

I turned to look at the man standing behind me and saw the expression of surprise on his face that was undoubtedly on my own, for he was the man who had stared down at me from the guildhall window.

There was no mistaking that he was Jan’s father. Master Robert’s hair, though greying, showed the same
red-gold threads as his son’s. Both were tall and broad-shouldered, but while Jan had the trimness of youth, his father’s waist had thickened. Maturity enhances the features of some men’s faces, though, and it had done so for Master Robert. He carried himself with the confidence of a man who knows he has achieved more than most in his life.

He inspected me as if I were a bale of cloth or a fleece
to be graded and priced. ‘Mistress, I believe you came earlier to the Common Council and were refused admission.’

‘Please forgive me,’ I said, ‘I’d no wish to interrupt. I merely hoped to speak to you once your discussions were ended, but your loyal watchman—’

‘An idle cod-wit and an oaf. He’ll not be watchman by tomorrow. That I can promise you.’

Several of the men carrying loads quickened
their pace as if they feared the same fate.

I clutched at his arm. ‘I would not have any man lose his post because of me. It’s his duty to see the council is not interrupted. You’ve many important matters to discuss.’