Lilies for Love (16 page)

'No!' Emma shrugged her off. 'No, I thank you,' she continued more calmly. 'I beg your pardon for answering sharply, mistress . . . Sister.' She cast a quick, bemused glance at Janna's habit. 'I'm not myself at present. But I will come with you to see Anselm, to . . . to pay my respects. I'm afraid I hardly had a chance to look at him before I fled the scene to be sick.' She shuddered, the horror still fresh in her mind. 'After that, my only thought was to find Peter. I knew the steward would raise the hue and cry once he learned about the fight.'

'You told him to hide himself?'

Emma nodded. Her eyes were bleak as a storm-filled sky as she said, 'I suggested he leave Wiltune immediately, flee back to our manor and hide in a . . . a tumbledown barn where we used to meet . . . privately. I said I knew someone who might be able to help us, and that I'd come back to find him as soon as it was safe, once the man responsible for my brother's death was safely locked away. I came straight here to find Hugh.' She straightened her rumpled kirtle, then raised trembling hands to her veil, which was also much awry. 'I must look a fright,' she whispered, as she adjusted its folds.

Even in her misery she looked beautiful. 'Not a fright, just very distressed. But be sure, mistress, that my lord will do all in his power to help you, as will I,' Janna comforted her.

As they entered the mortuary chapel, Janna steeled herself for her first sight of Anselm. She remembered, only too vividly, the death of her cat, what it had looked like after its throat had been cut. A shiver of distress ran through her at the memory.

Sister Anne was already there, bent over the dead youth. By the look of the cloth she wielded and the basin of dirty water beside her, she was doing what she could to clean away the blood and muck from the ditch to make the body more presentable. She glanced up as they approached. 'Come and help me, Johanna,' she said, then straightened slowly as she noticed who else was present. 'My lord, you should not be up and walking about,' she scolded Hugh.

'I had to come, Sister.' Hugh gestured at Anselm. 'My dearest friend lies here and I have sworn to do what I may to avenge his death.'

Sister Anne looked thoughtful. Then she beckoned him closer. Janna and Emma followed Hugh, and all bent over to inspect Anselm. Janna drew a breath of surprise as she recognised his face. This was the desperate youth she'd seen at the cockfight. She'd wondered if he would wager his soul and now it seemed that he had. Pity washed through her at the terrible waste of his life, and the havoc his death might yet wreak on the innocent.

Save for the jagged gash across his throat and a nose still red and swollen from its earlier contact with Peter's fist, Anselm's face looked unmarked and peaceful. Janna raised the sheet that covered him and peered at the naked body beneath.

'Sister Johanna!' Sister Anne looked absolutely scandalised. Janna quickly dropped the sheet.

'I'm looking for scratches or bruises, anything that might tell us if there was a fight before he died. If there was, his assailant might also bear the marks of it,' she explained hurriedly.

'There was nothing to see. I would have noticed while I was washing him,' Sister Anne said stiffly.

Janna picked up Anselm's hands, one by one, and inspected them carefully, giving his nails special attention. She put them down. 'It seems he's made no effort to defend himself. Either he was taken by surprise or he knew his assailant.' She looked at Emma.

'It wasn't Peter. And it wasn't me, either!'

'No! No, of course not. But you mentioned someone who raised the hue and cry, someone who knows you all. Could he . . .?'

Emma thought about it. 'No. I can't think of any reason why Odo would want Anselm dead.'

'Do you know him well enough to be sure?'

'I know him as well as anyone else on the manor. He's been there as long as I have, probably longer in fact, for I think he was born there. He is but a villein, but I believe he is liked and trusted by all.'

'Is anyone else here from your manor?' Hugh asked.

Emma shook her head. 'I haven't seen anyone I recognise, but there was such a crowd at the fair that anyone could hide if he didn't want to be seen.'

'Can you think of anyone, anyone at all, who might wish Anselm harm?'

'No. No, I cannot. You know what he was like, Hugh?' Emma gazed up at him with tear-filled eyes. 'Everyone loved him.'

Except Peter Thatcher, Janna added silently.

'You yourself said that he'd got into bad company, and that he was drinking too much,' Hugh reminded her. 'Could it be that a drunken fight got out of hand?'

Emma shrugged sadly, but didn't reply.

'I noticed him at the cockfighting pit on the first day of the fair,' Janna said, thinking it was time to reveal what she'd seen. 'I think he'd just lost his wager for he seemed in great distress.'

'Could he, perhaps, have been unable to pay his debts?' Emma asked, ready to clutch at any straw that might be offered. 'Could this be a money-lender's revenge?'

'No, no, it's nothing like that.' Sister Anne was bursting to tell what she knew. 'I heard that he got in a fight over a young woman. The steward seeks his assailant even now. 'Tis said the woman is very beautiful. The pity of it is that such beauty would so inflame men's passions as to lead them to . . . Why are you pulling such faces at me, Johanna? I beg you to remember that you are in the house of God.'

Janna was sorry she'd called attention to herself, yet relieved that she had, at least, succeeded in stopping the nun's prattle. She couldn't help feeling amused by the revelation that Sister Anne, too, was not averse to listening to gossip, yet she was sorry that Emma was there to hear it.

'She's pulling faces because this is the young man's sister.' Hugh indicated Emma standing silently beside him. 'The fight was between her brother and . . . and her betrothed.'

'Oh, mistress, I do beg your pardon!' Sister Anne clasped her hands together, unconsciously praying for forgiveness.

'Where are Master Anselm's clothes?' Janna asked, feeling sympathy for the infirmarian's embarrassment and seeking to divert attention from it. 'Maybe they can tell us something.'

Sister Anne drew herself upright, her body rigid with disapproval. ''Tis the steward's task to investigate this terrible crime,' she said frostily.

'Please, Sister, allow Johanna to do whatever she may to help us understand what has happened this day. She has a keen eye and a quick mind, that I know from past experience, and she may well see something that the steward has missed.'

Janna flashed Hugh a grateful glance, while the glow of his approval heated her cheeks. Sister Anne studied her thoughtfully while she made up her mind. 'Over there,' she said at last, and flung out a hand to indicate a pile of bloodstained garments on a nearby bench.

'May I?' But Janna didn't wait for Emma's nod of acceptance. She moved across and picked up Anselm's soiled tunic, inspected it carefully and then turned her attention to his hose. She learned nothing from the garments, and looked around for his belt. A blood-stained sheath hung from it, and Janna drew out the dagger safely concealed within. It looked clean enough. Janna sheathed it and glanced about for a purse or scrip, for Anselm would surely have had some sort of pouch to carry his money and possessions. But there was only a cut string. Janna remembered the cutpurse she'd seen on the first day of the fair, and wondered if he'd grown more desperate as the days progressed. If so, he would have to answer to a crime far worse than theft.

'My lord,' she called to Hugh. Emma followed him over, and Janna showed them what she'd found. 'Did you see any sign of a purse when you undressed Master Anselm, Sister Anne?' she asked.

'No, I did not. I wondered about it at the time, but I'm afraid it went out of my head once I started to tend this poor young man.' Sister Anne fussed with the sheet, rearranging it carefully around Anselm's shoulders and tucking it in to make sure no-one else would be tempted to take a peek.

Janna told Hugh and Emma about the cutpurse she'd seen. 'My guess is that your brother won some money at the cockfights after all,' she told Emma. 'No-one would bother to steal his purse else.'

'But why didn't the robber just cut his purse and run away? Why kill him?' Emma wailed.

Janna could think of one very good reason, but she didn't say it out loud, not in front of Sister Anne. She waited while Hugh and Emma bowed their heads and said a prayer for the dead man. She would talk to them later, and see if they agreed with her opinion. She glanced at Sister Anne, and wondered how best to put forward her most convincing argument. For Janna was determined that, when Hugh and Emma left the abbey to pursue the killer, she would accompany them.

'I've had some thoughts about who may be responsible for Anselm's death,' she said, once Hugh had gone back to bed in the infirmary and they were alone there with Emma. Janna had hurriedly mixed up a potion to give him, for he was pale and drawn. The effort of going down to the chapel to view Anselm had obviously taken a toll on his resilience. She handed him the mug, and he drank the potion down.

'Thank you.' He gave her back the mug, and closed his eyes with a grateful sigh. 'Tell me who is in your mind?' he invited, as he stretched out to make himself comfortable.

'I think it was someone known to Master Anselm. I think it might have been Odo.'

'Odo?' Hugh opened his eyes again.

'Odo?' Emma echoed.

Janna nodded, and turned to her. 'I believe that, at some stage, your brother must have won some money at the cockfights. There is no reason for his purse to be taken else.'

'You can't blame Odo for that,' Emma objected. 'It may have happened that Anselm saw the thief cut his purse and chased after him – and was murdered for it. It could have been anyone.'

'I don't think so. If Anselm saw the thief and chased after him, he would have drawn his dagger, he would have been armed and on his guard.' Janna paused to order her argument. 'No, I believe Anselm knew the thief and that was why he had to be silenced. I also believe he was taken by surprise, and by someone he trusted, for he made no effort to arm or defend himself before his throat was cut.'

Odo – or Peter Thatcher? Her comments could apply to either man, but she knew Emma would hear nothing against her beloved. That possibility was something she must discuss later with Hugh, when they were alone.

'It could be that Odo met Anselm, either by chance or arrangement, near the ditch where he was found,' she hurried on. 'Your brother would have had no cause for concern, no reason to fear a man he knew well, which is why there are no signs of a fight. The attack, when it came, must have been sudden and completely unexpected. Odo had to kill your brother before he could take his purse, for he could not leave him alive to bear witness. But he cut the purse off afterwards, to make us think it was the work of a common thief.'

'If that is so, the purse will be stained with Anselm's blood!' Forgetting his wound in the excitement of the chase, Hugh jerked upright. He subsided with a groan. Sweat broke out across his forehead. Janna hoped the sudden movement hadn't torn apart the newly healing skin.

'We must go after Odo,' Emma said with determination. 'Hugh . . .' Her voice trailed away as she noticed his pallor.

'I'll come with you,' Janna said quickly. 'The fair is over and people are already leaving Wiltune. We must make haste.'

'It's not safe for you to go alone. I'm coming with you.' Hugh swept aside the blanket that covered him, revealing a shirt stained with fresh blood.

'No, sire, you are not.' Sister Anne had entered the cubicle and taken in the situation with one glance. 'Look at the damage you have caused by rising from your bed too soon! You must rest and give that wound a chance to heal or I will not answer for the consequences.'

'I can go in my lord's place,' Janna said quickly, adding, 'if you will give me permission to leave the abbey, Sister?'

The infirmarian looked somewhat doubtful.

'Please!' Emma was anxious to be gone, but fearful of carrying out her task alone.

'You have taken no vows, you have merely sought safety here in the abbey?' Sister Anne questioned Janna.

'Yes.'

'Then you are free to leave whenever you will. But . . .' Sister Anne checked Janna's rush to the door. 'But if you leave, you may not find it quite so easy to return.'

'Why not?' Hugh demanded, before Janna could say anything. 'Surely the pursuit of truth and justice is all part of carrying out God's work?'

Sister Anne nodded thoughtfully. 'There is some merit in what you say,' she conceded.

'Then let Sister Johanna accompany Mistress Emma, for there are questions to be asked before those who might be able to answer them leave Wiltune. They must make haste, Sister! There is no time to lose.' Hugh cast an uncertain glance at Janna. 'But I beg you to be careful,' he said slowly. 'Both of you. And especially you, Johanna.'

J
ANNA FELT AN
exhilarating sense of freedom as they left the abbey. Nevertheless, she couldn't resist a nervous glance over her shoulder as they came to the site of the fair. There were still a number of people about, those who were busy demolishing booths and stalls, plus some of the traders who'd occupied them and were now busy packing away their goods and loading them onto sumpter horses or stacking them onto carts.

'I don't know where to start looking,' Emma said dismally. 'Anyway, Odo probably ran away from Wiltune straight after he attacked Anselm.'

'He stayed to identify your brother and raise the hue and cry for Peter,' Janna reminded her. 'Besides, why would he run away and arouse suspicion when he can bear witness to the quarrel with Peter and know that your lover will wear the blame for Anselm's death?'

Emma was silent for a moment as she digested the truth of Janna's words.

'And he probably has a purse full of coins,' Janna added. 'Surely he'd be tempted to stay on to enjoy his ill-gotten gains, for he won't be able to spend them once he returns to your manor.'

Emma nodded, looking slightly more confident. 'We came together, Odo, Anselm and I,' she confided. 'Perhaps he would not leave without me, for that too might look suspicious?'

'Yes, indeed.' Janna thought she should check, just to make sure. 'There was no-one else here from your manor?'

'Only Peter,' said Emma, thoroughly downcast once more. 'Anselm and I wanted to come to the fair. Odo and Peter were both given leave to accompany us, but Peter thought it wise not to be seen by Anselm, so he came on behind us.'

'Let's try the cockfighting pit first then,' Janna suggested. 'If Odo saw your brother winning there, and if there are still fights going on and wagers being made, he might be tempted to try his own luck.'

They turned their steps towards the pit, and the ditch that ran beside it. The fairground was filthy with discarded produce, rotten and trampled underfoot along with all the mundungus of the birds and animals that had been brought and traded and had left their mark. Janna wrinkled her nose at the smell. She lifted the hem of her habit, and trod more carefully through the refuse.

The cockpit was deserted now, nor were there any signs of men wagering over dice or any other means whereby a quick profit might be made. Janna scanned the scene, then walked over to the ditch. Discarded bits of bread, rotting meat, fish bones and other uninviting objects lay half-submerged in the scummy water. She shuddered. 'Where did they find your brother?' she asked.

'Not here. Further along, near those trees.' Emma waved a hand to show where she meant. Janna set off to see for herself. At once Emma followed.

'The trees make a good screen,' Emma said thoughtfully, as she showed Janna the exact spot where she'd found her brother.

'Yes. Odo may have asked your brother to meet him here, for there's no reason for him to be here else. Unless he came over to relieve himself?' Janna had detected the stink of stale urine in the air. This patch of trees had obviously formed a handy spot for fairgoers. As such, Odo might have been taking a bigger risk than he realised if he had made such an arrangement. Someone answering the call of nature might easily have seen them. But it seemed more likely that the attack had come about by chance, an impulse born of propitious circumstances.

She shrugged. It made no matter how or why they'd met but what had happened once they did. She looked at the stained and stagnant water in the ditch and the bloody marks on the ground where Anselm's body must have rested after they lifted him out. Emma had gone pale. Janna hoped the young woman wasn't going to be sick again. She moved away to inspect the ground nearby, drawing Emma away from the stinking ditch as she did so. She could find no other stains, nor any scuff marks to indicate that a body had been dragged from somewhere else.

She straightened. 'Let's see if we can find Odo,' she said, and began to pick her way back through the filthy fairground once more.

'I wish I could be sure Anselm wasn't behind the attack on Hugh,' Emma said worriedly, as she followed Janna towards the centre of the fair.

'I don't think you need to worry about that.' Janna spoke over her shoulder. 'In fact, I believe I was the intended target.'

'But why?'

'It's a long story. But try not to worry about your brother. After all, there was no reason for him to attack the lord Hugh.'

'My brother is usually calm and open to reason, but he was very angry with Hugh when I spoke to him, angry enough, I think, to take action against even a once-beloved brother-in-arms. He talked about how Hugh had dishonoured our friendship and brought shame to our family. I tried to talk some sense into him, but he wouldn't listen to me.'

Emma's confession made Janna feel a little more comfortable about her own safety. 'You said Anselm was watching the cockfighting. Was he winning or losing then, do you think?' she asked.

'Losing, I am sure. He looked quite desperate.'

'Yes, I thought so too, when I saw him. But his luck might have turned later, perhaps only on the last day of the fair?'

'I don't know.' Emma looked wretched. 'After the fight between Anselm and Peter, I wanted no more to do with my brother and so I stayed away from him as much as I could. He was so angry with me – and with Hugh for refusing to marry me.' Emma gave a half-strangled sob. 'My brother died alone like a pig in a ditch, victim of an unknown hand, but after quarrelling with those who loved him best. I'd give anything . . . anything in the world . . . to have him alive again so I could tell him . . .'

Her voice trailed off into silence.

'That you would give up Peter?'

'No!' Emma's voice was low, but fierce. 'There's no need! It was only Anselm's stiff-necked pride that made a problem of my love for Peter.'

Janna nodded in sympathetic agreement. Her steps quickened. Followed by Emma, she hurriedly picked her way across the still busy marketplace, for she'd espied a bush tied to a pole, marking the site of an alehouse, one of several in Wiltune. It stood close beside the shop of Fulk, the apothecary. The fair being over, both were now open for business, but the alehouse was by far the more crowded. She pushed through a group of men who, with full mugs of ale in hand, stood blocking the door.

'We can't go in there!' Emma sounded scandalised.

Janna glanced behind, and gestured impatiently for her to follow. 'If Odo's not in here, I wager we'll find him in one of the other alehouses,' she said, and marched inside.

She wondered if the alewife would recognise her, for she'd been there before, but her habit turned out to be an effective disguise. In fact, the alewife looked even more scandalised than Emma when she noticed a lay sister on her premises.

'You'll be putting my customers off their drink,' she muttered angrily.

'We're looking for someone, mistress,' Janna explained. The alewife flounced off and left them alone. 'If you see Odo, don't let him know your suspicions, don't accuse him of anything,' Janna warned Emma. 'Pretend you're glad to see him. Say you feel faint, and ask him to buy you a mug of ale. See if he takes the money to pay for it from Anselm's purse.'

Emma hesitated, looking nervous. 'Go.' Janna gave her a nudge to get her moving. 'Don't worry, I'll be right here if there's any trouble.' She stayed beside the door, watching carefully as Emma began to circle the crowded room. She was the butt of several ribald comments, for women did not frequent alehouses alone unless there was a purpose for their presence. With head held high, Emma ignored the lewd suggestions, but Janna could see the flush of colour on her cheeks as she tried to avoid a groping hand only to encounter another. Taking pity on her situation, Janna hurried over to join her, for she knew the alewife was right. Her presence would inhibit the drinkers in more ways than one.

'He's not here,' Emma said, once the circle of the room was complete.

'Then we'll try another, and another, until we find him.'

To Janna's surprise, Emma nodded in agreement. She was glad not to have to argue her case, but her spirits sank lower and lower as they visited one alehouse after another without success. Finally, there was only one left for them to try. It was tucked away down a small lane off the marketplace, a rundown establishment frequented by a bunch of rogues and layabouts, judging by the look of the few who were openly relieving themselves at a side fence when Janna and Emma entered the yard.

They averted their faces and pressed on into the crowded alehouse. 'He's here!' Emma hissed out of the side of her mouth.

'Act naturally.' Janna took her arm. 'Say you want to go home, and that I've been helping you look for him. Don't forget to ask him to buy you something to drink.'

Emma sagged slightly, and allowed Janna to support her over to a table frequented by two men who were busy at a game of dice. Judging from the coins on the table, and the raised voices, the loser wasn't happy about the sizeable gains being amassed by the winner. At sight of Emma, the man who was losing sprang up and made a sketchy bow. 'You should not be here, mistress,' he greeted her.

'No, I should not,' Emma said tartly, 'but I have been looking for you, Odo. I wish to go home to . . . to . . .' Her voice faltered.

'To tell your lord what has happened here,' Janna said firmly, and patted Emma's shoulder to comfort her and let her know she was not alone.

'I'll come at once.' The man scowled at his associate, who sat back on his stool with a smug expression and began to count the pile of coins set in front of him.

'I . . . I feel faint. I need to sit down. Maybe a drink of wine or ale will help to revive me?' Emma said quickly.

'This is no place for you, nor for you, Sister.' Odo's mouth turned down in a thin line of disapproval as he looked at Janna. Not giving Emma any chance to argue, he took her arm and led her outside. Janna made haste to follow the pair. She said nothing until they'd left the laneway and were back in the marketplace. As soon as there were people about and it was safe to stop, she called out, 'I beg you, mistress, for the sake of your health, take some refreshment before you set out for home.'

'Oh, yes.' Emma turned, an expression of relief illuminating her face. 'But I'm afraid I spent all of my money at the fair.' She turned to Odo in appeal. 'Do you have a coin to spare for a drink and perhaps a pie from the cookshop?'

'Yes, of course, mistress.' Odo's hand went to his purse. He hesitated. 'I, myself, had a lucky wager on a cockfight,' he mumbled, as he opened it to extract a coin. The purse was new, and made of fine leather. Bought with Anselm's winnings, Janna felt sure of it, just as she felt sure that Anselm's purse was now safely at the bottom of the ditch, or buried in a bush perhaps. How could they trap the rogue into admitting his foul deed when there was no evidence of it save a purchase he might well claim to have bought out of his own coin?

She gazed at the purse, and then at his tunic, noting how clean it was in front compared to his sleeves, which were dirty and travel-stained. Her glance narrowed and focused. A fierce exhilaration pulsed through her body.

'Pray fetch some refreshment for Mistress Emma,' Janna ordered, thinking to set his arrest in train while he was out of hearing.

Odo nodded and set off for the cookshop, moving with alacrity. Janna guessed he was relieved not to be questioned about his newfound wealth. But his turn would come, she promised herself. She looked around the marketplace, searching for any sign of the steward, or one of the abbey guards, anyone who might apprehend the villein on his return. Her spirits lifted when she spied Godric in the distance.

'Godric!' she shouted, waving energetically to attract his attention.

He hurried over. 'My lord Hugh asked me to come looking for you. He's worried about you. And there is news.' He turned to Emma. 'Word has come from the steward that the man who murdered your brother has been arrested, mistress.'

'Odo?' Not understanding, Emma looked about for the villein. He was walking towards them, balancing a pie and a mug of ale and looking very pleased with himself.

'Not Odo. Peter Thatcher.'

'No!' As understanding came, Emma's eyes filled with tears. 'But I told him to hide!' she wailed.

'And it counted against him when he was caught fleeing from here.'

'But he's innocent!'

'If that is so, he will be let free.' But Godric looked less than convinced.

'He is innocent,' Janna affirmed. She felt great sympathy for Emma, and a seething sense of injustice on behalf of the hapless thatcher. 'Where is the steward now?' she questioned Godric.

'At the abbey,' he answered. 'The thatcher has been brought there to await trial at the abbess's court. But his own lord will have to be summoned before the case against the thatcher can be heard.'

'Where are the guards?' Janna looked about for anyone with some authority. 'Have you seen any of them about?'

'I just walked past one of them. He's over there.'

Janna looked where Godric pointed, and felt her spirits lift with relief. 'Ho there!' she called, and beckoned the guard to come to them.

'What has happened? Do you say that the thatcher has been arrested for the murder of your brother, my lady?' There was a definite air of self-satisfaction about Odo as he handed the pie and ale to Emma.

'Yes, Odo, the thatcher has been taken into custody,' Janna answered for Emma. 'But the wrong man stands accused. Hold onto Odo, Godric. Hold him tight!' To her relief, Godric asked no questions but immediately made a grab for the startled villein. He had no chance to defend himself before Janna took a firm grip on his other side, and called out to the guard. 'This is the murderer of the man found in the ditch.'

'We already hold the culprit.' The guard ambled over at a leisurely pace. He made no move to relieve Janna and Godric of their struggling captive.

'This man is guilty – and I can prove it!'

'You are mistaken. Let me go!' Odo strained against their grasp.

'See the blood on his tunic?'

'But I washed –'