Unhallowed Ground (16 page)

K
ing Edward requires that all the commons be proficient with the longbow, and Lord Gilbert has placed upon me the responsibility for seeing that his tenants and villeins are not found wanting should war with France resume. Perhaps I should write “when war with France resumes.”

On the Wednesday before Corpus Christi I had tacked a notice to the church door that the following Sunday there would be archery practice and a competition.

So the day after my abortive journey to Cote, after the mass and a convenient interval for dinner, families began to gather at the castle forecourt. I assigned two grooms to bring the butts from the castle storeroom, had in my pouch six silver pennies for the competition, and required of the castle butler a cask of fresh ale to quench the thirst of the competitors.

The day was yet windy, so archers were sorely tried when they attempted to place their shafts in the target from much beyond sixty paces. Much good-natured banter was provoked by arrows gone astray in the breeze. By the twelfth hour the ale was gone, the pennies awarded, the butts returned to the storeroom, and my mind – freed for a time from thoughts of murder and flames – returned to ways I might root out a felon.

I felt no need to require Arthur or Uctred to accompany me when I mounted Bruce on Monday morn and set out for Alvescot. Walter, was he guilty of Thomas atte Bridge’s death, would cause no tumult before his father and brother.

The warm sun and brisk breeze had in three days so dried the roads that Bruce raised dust rather than clods of mud as he plodded his way toward Cow-Leys Corner. I reined the old horse to a stop at the oak where Thomas atte Bridge had dangled near six weeks past, and studied the tree. The halt puzzled Bruce. He stamped a great hoof, impatient to be on his way.

What did I expect to learn from Walter Forester? If I asked him plainly had he to do with Thomas atte Bridge’s death, he would surely deny it. He might be speaking truth, or he might speak falsely. How might I know? What could I ask of him that might lead to the fellow incriminating himself? I had proof of nothing, only suspicions. The King’s Eyre does not deal with suspicion but with fact. I had none. If Walter would not confess to the felony, I could offer no sure evidence of his guilt.

I had no reason to wish Walter guilty for, unlike John Kellet, the man had done me no harm. If John Kellet did not do the murder, nor Geoffrey Homersly, nor Walter Forester, I was left to sort out a felon among friends.

There was also Edmund Smith, but if he did harm to Thomas atte Bridge he had felt no haste to work his vengeance. And if he was guilty I had no more evidence than for Walter Forester. Six weeks I had contended with my ignorance. Ignorance seemed triumphant.

I turned Bruce and set him plodding back toward Bampton and the castle. Wilfred the porter was doubtless surprised to see me return so soon after departing, but a good porter pays little regard to the coming and going of his betters. That they wish to come or go must be enough for him.

Kate, however, required explanation.

“You are going to lay aside the pursuit of a murderer, then?” she asked when I explained my sudden return.

“Unless some new information, some new gossip or rumor, comes to my ear, I know not what more to do.”

Kate did not respond, which was a clear sign she had no better idea than I as to what I might next do. If she has such notions she is not hesitant to speak them for my benefit.

Sleep did not come that night. In the past, when I was a bachelor bailiff for Lord Gilbert, residing in the castle, if I experienced a wakeful night I would prowl the castle parapet, considering the issue which robbed me of sleep. It was near midnight when I crept from my bed this night to walk again upon the parapet. I tried to quit our bed without disturbing Kate, but I believe she slept uneasy as well, for she sat up and asked, when she understood I was drawing on my chauces, what I was about.

I told her, hoping she would not volunteer to accompany me. She was soon to become a mother, and must have rest, and I wished to consider my failure alone. Bad enough to be ineffectual, but to be so in the eyes of one’s beloved is doubly distressing. I was relieved when she murmured a drowsy response and drew the bedclothes up to her neck.

Wilfred and his assistant were snoring in their chamber in the gatehouse. I heard them in duet through the door which Wilfred leaves open in all but the harshest weather so he may be more easily awakened in the night should need arise to open the gate and lift the portcullis. I thought for a moment to wake the porter and tell him what I was about, so that should he leave his bed and find some shadow atop the castle wall he would not raise an alarm and disturb the sleep of others. But the rumbles and snorts from his chamber convinced me that discovery from that quarter was unlikely. I passed by the door and mounted the steps to the parapet.

I completed a circuit of the castle wall and was beginning a second when I saw a glow in the sky to the east, over the willows which line Shill Brook and the mill pond. My mind was fixed upon the death of Thomas atte Bridge so the orange tint did not at first register upon my thoughts. ’Twas the moon, rising to the east, so I assumed. But on the north parapet, as I walked west I saw a sliver of new moon hung above Lord Gilbert’s forest.

My thoughts fused abruptly and I spun about to look to the east. The glow above the trees was brighter, and I knew what it must be that caused it, yet I prayed as I ran that it be not so.

I plunged down the parapet steps, burst through the door to the porter’s chamber, and shouted for the fellow to awaken. He did so with much spluttering. When I knew him to be alert and ready for instruction I told him there was fire in the town. He and his assistant must awaken the grooms in their quarters, and all must attend the blaze at once with rakes and hooks and buckets. But first he must open the gate and portcullis that I might leave the castle.

I ran through the forecourt in the dark to Mill Street, thence across Shill Brook. When I came to Church View Street I was joined by three others, for the cry of “Fire!” had spread quickly through the town and many converged on the scene. Galen House was ablaze.

Flames leaped from the thatching, and already men were attacking the roof with hooks, attempting to pull the flaming reeds to the ground where they might be more easily extinguished, and to prevent the flames from consuming the entire structure. If the thatching be pulled down the frame of Galen House might be saved.

This was not to be. The thatch was too dry. Although there had been rain but three days past, the summer sun had dried the reeds and they burned readily. Flames rose high into the night sky and sparks settled upon the roofs of neighboring houses. It was well the conflagration came when all was dark. Did any sparks alight on the thatching of a nearby house the glow was quickly seen. Men placed ladders upon such dwellings and took buckets of water from the well to splash upon these new threats before they could grow and consume another house.

Galen House could not be saved. Daub cracked in the heat and fell away. Wattles then caught fire, and after that the beams of the house were kindled. I shouted over the roar of the inferno that men should leave Galen House, which many were already doing for the intense heat, and seek out sparks which might set other homes ablaze.

As I spoke I felt soft hands upon my back. Kate had come. I turned to her and saw the tracks of tears upon her cheeks in the orange glare of the blaze now consuming our home. There was nothing to be done but to comfort each other, so that is what we did. Clasped in each other’s arms we watched as the beams supporting the upper floor of Galen House collapsed. As they fell a fresh shower of sparks and embers erupted into the sky. By this time the entire town was witness to the conflagration, I think, so any brand which fell where it might ignite another house was immediately found and extinguished. Small boys darted about Church Street and Rosemary Lane, as far as Broad Street, reporting to their elders when any sparks yet unextinguished were discovered.

The night was short, and the eastern sky ere long became pale. Soon the rising sun illuminated the scene of devastation before us. A pile of blackened beams, many yet ablaze and smoking, lay where once Galen House had proudly stood. My new chimney stood tall and unmarred at the south end of the smoldering heap; all else was ruin.

Kate and I had wordlessly watched the flames consume Galen House. What was there to say? When the sun lighted the scene she finally spoke: “Will you now continue your search for a murderer?”

I did not answer straight away. This question was in my mind since the hour I realized our home was ablaze. Was there a man in Bampton or the Weald who did not know we had abandoned our home and resorted to the castle for safety? Many had seen the cart transfer our goods to the castle, and I made clear to many why we had changed our abode. Was town gossip so weak that some, after near a week had passed, did not yet know of it?

This was not creditable. If the murderer wished to burn Galen House even if I no longer resided there, he must desire some vengeance beyond preventing his discovery. Destroying my empty house would not destroy me or cause a halt in my search for a felon.

Perhaps the man who set fire to Galen House was not of Bampton, so could not know I had changed my dwelling-place. Did Geoffrey Homersly do this thing? I could think of no other who might wish harm to both Thomas atte Bridge and me, and who might be from some distant place where my move from Galen House was not known.

“I must,” I finally replied to Kate. “Else we may never rebuild this house. As soon as we do the felon will burn it again.”

“Even if we reside in the castle?”

“Even so. Unless Thomas atte Bridge’s murderer is from some far place he will know Galen House was empty this night. Setting it ablaze could do me no injury, yet he burned it.”

“You believe this is so?” she asked. I saw tears once again leak from the corners of her eyes.

“Nay. I think our home was burned by some man who thought we slept this night under its roof.”

Kate turned to inspect the charred beams and ashes which were once a home and shuddered.

I required of Kate that she return to the castle. This she was loath to do while I remained on Church View Street, but I convinced her that she could do little but stir the ashes. Her most important work this day and for many months to come was to give life to our babe. I would search the rubble, when it cooled, for anything of value we might have left behind when we removed to the castle, or for any clue which might identify who had done this thing. While I stood before what had been our door Hubert Shillside approached.

“’Tis well you had foresight to abandon the place,” he observed.

“Aye. But I thought to save my house by leaving it. A man could not murder me by burning my vacant house.”

“Should’a kept watch a few days longer,” Arthur muttered, joining the conversation. “But who would’ve thought the knave would seek to burn an empty house?”

“Who wishes revenge upon you, Hugh?” Shillside asked.

“A bailiff makes few friends,” I replied, “but I can think of none I have injured so much this would be their response.”

“But it must be so. Else why burn the place if you were not meant to die in the flames?”

“Perhaps I was.”

“You think the felon unaware you were abed in the castle?”

“Aye.”

“Well, whoso the villain may be, he might have destroyed half the town seeking harm to you. Do you discover who has done this, it will go hard for him when he is brought before hallmote.”

Arthur had wandered away while we spoke. He found an unburnt rafter, pulled from the roof when it was hoped the blaze might be checked. With this he began to probe the cooling ashes of Galen House for bits of iron, nails, hinges, and anything of worth which the fire might not have consumed. Shillside and I joined him, poking about the edges of the blackened beams which once supported a fine house. It was yet too hot to enter the center of the pile. How little effort it takes for one man to destroy the hopes of another.

Six grooms joined us in sifting the ashes. I did not wish to spend the day waiting for the pile to cool, so set four to work with buckets, hauling water from the well to toss upon the embers. Each bucket produced an upwelling of smoke, ash, and steam, but after an hour of this work the results of each new bucket of water became less dramatic as the remains became soaked.

Near mid-day I led the grooms to the castle for our dinner. We reeked of smoke, but as it was my intention to return and finish the work of picking through the ashes after the meal I did not demand the men change their apparel. Washing of sooty hands and faces must serve.

Nothing of value remained of what had been Galen House but for scraps of iron and the new chimney. The bricks were well made and the mortar strong and neither suffered great harm from the heat. My face, hands, chauces, and cotehardie were black with ashes and soot when I gave up the search and returned to the castle with Arthur and the others. All were black as me, for none stinted in the work. I was some relieved that nothing was found in the ruins, for that meant that Kate and I had been thorough in removing our possessions. Unless we had overlooked some burnable object, in which circumstance, who would know?

After a light supper I sent to the castle kitchen for a dozen buckets of hot water. I filled my barrel with these and soaked away the soot and stench. Even so, my clothes were so saturated with the odor of burnt wood that our chamber reeked. We could not clear the room of the smell until my clothing was gone. Kate bundled the lot while I soaked, and took the sack to the scullery for washing next day.

I resolved next morn to travel to Oxford and seek Geoffrey Homersly. I would first learn where he stabled his horse, and discover if the beast’s stall had been vacant the night Galen House burned. I found Arthur and told him what I intended, and that he and Uctred would once again accompany me, then sent word to the marshalsea to prepare our mounts after dinner. I told Kate that my intention was to return the next day, or in two days at the latest. She, meanwhile, I asked to remain within the safety of the castle. Kate would be curious about what remained of Galen House.