Blood Runs Thicker Sarah Hawkswood (great novels .TXT) 📖

‘Go on. I can see there is more.’

‘Well, I already had reason to know he had done for her. After the lady died, the lord Osbern did not wed for a year or so, but he was not a man to lie alone. He took one of the girls, old enough to wed mind, and she had told me he raved in his dreams, raved about his faithless whore-wife, raved of his love for her still though he snapped her neck. Well, that was words that would have got her an’ me both dead, and so I told her. When the poor girl found herself with child she did not want to stay, and he would not keep her, so he sent her to his manor at Tredington and she wed the widower steward. I heard as it has been a happy union, and she deserved it. When I told Winflaed, she said as he had never cause and his lady was pure, and so she went and told him, she did, about the poor woman’s fears. I thought her mad to do it, for he might have killed her on the spot, but she would have the lady’s name restored. Near broke him, I think, knowing he had killed her innocent, not guilty, and that is why I think the church is new, and why that poor lady in the hall now could never please him. I think he made confession when he knew, mind you, because our young priest, Father Theodosius, he left us shortly after and went back to the monks in Evesham. The sort who is burdened by great confessing, he was.’

‘And the steward of Tredington’s wife knew only what the lord Osbern had said, that his wife betrayed him and he killed her.’

‘She could not have known what Winflaed knew, and I was only told after the girl went to Tredington. I have told none, none but you, my lord, and that is because you are who you are.’ She sighed.

‘Go and rest, oldmother.’ Bradecote did not tell her she had given him the answer he needed, or so near that he must guess what Catchpoll would bring back with him as knowledge. He smiled at the thought of how annoyed Catchpoll would feel having ridden to Tredington and back in a day, only to bring a tidying of ends, and went to ask the lady de Lench how she fared.

Walkelin did not follow Baldwin de Lench too closely, for that would be merely lighting the tinder of his wrath and inviting a boot, and Walkelin had a strong feeling Serjeant Catchpoll would tell him that a sheriff’s man ought never to put himself in the position of making much of his rank whilst sprawled upon the ground chewing dust. He simply kept the man in view and within about ten paces, ignoring the occasional glare, as Baldwin prowled about his bailey and finally went into the barn, where the noise of the threshing flails declared the labour of the villagers. Fulk stood to one side, arms folded, and not stood as straight and tall as he would normally. When he saw the lord Baldwin enter his cheek paled a little, but he stood his ground.

Edmund the new father, secure in the knowledge that he was indeed a father, handed his flail to a lad and approached his lord to tell him, proudly, of the birth of his son. Walkelin watched but could not hear the words over the sound of the flails. The lord Baldwin merely grunted, which was all the congratulation Edmund would receive. Baldwin had things upon his mind and uppermost was the realisation that he had not seen that miserable bastard the lord sheriff’s serjeant all day. The question was posed to Edmund and the answer given freely.

‘Why he left before the sun was up proper, my lord, being off to Tredington and wanting to get back today, doubtless.’

Baldwin de Lench stared at the man, who lowered his eyes, gazed at the earth and then requested permission to return to the threshing. The lord of Lench remained staring, now into space, even after he had done so. Then he turned and left the barn, walked, without any sense of purpose, to the stable, whence the dutiful Walkelin followed him, entering not the darkness of a stable but of unconsciousness, as he was hit upon the head with a piece of wood.

Bradecote felt a huge sense of relief. What they had missed was not something they had failed to ask about, or see, but a tangle so old and deep it might well have remained hidden. At least they were right in thinking that the immediate cause lay in Tredington, though why the steward’s wife would reveal her knowledge, that just happened to be wrong, Bradecote could not comprehend. Nor could he work out why it had made Baldwin ride off and avenge his mother, since he would not have faulted his sire’s actions against a faithless wife, as he had since proved with a lash.

He went to the hall and found the lady in the solar, looking pensive and watching her son laying out his possessions upon his bed in neat order. He was telling her what he would take to Evesham for the Almoner to give to the poor, and what he would give to Kenelm the Groom, who had cared for his hawks.

‘… and the blanket will go to the girl Hild, so that she can use it when the sick need to be kept very warm. That is a good act of charity. I will take my box with me, and show Abbot Reginald my writing. I would like to work in the scriptorium.’

‘You are making your preparations straight away, messire?’ Bradecote was a little surprised.

‘You said that I could leave tomorrow, my lord.’

‘Yes, I did.’

‘Then I want to be ready. I will ride, not walk, for although