A Trail of Ink (11 page)

Sir Thomas reached reluctantly for the coat before him on the bench. It was as if he thought the foxes it was made from might return to life and snap at his fingers. The chamber grew silent as he lifted the garment, peered at the lining, then looked to Sir William. I saw a smile cross Lord Gilbert’s florid face and he folded his arms across his chest.

“Uh, I remember now,” Sir William blurted. “Aye… twas Andrew Adrian, of the Walbrook Street who made my coat. I asked it be dyed to resemble weasel. I, uh, wished to be thought… uh, above my station,” he admitted.

“But…” Sir Thomas protested. Before he could say more Lord Gilbert spoke again.

“The letters embroidered there are not twin `A’s, are they, Sir Thomas?”

“Nay.”

“They are `G’ and `A’, for Geoffrey Adrian… of Watling Street, not Walbrook Street, as Sir William so mistakenly now remembers. Your memory, Sir William, is exceeding poor for one so young.”

Onlookers guffawed again. This time Sir Thomas was not so quick to silence the mirth. He knew it would do no good.

It was Lord Gilbert who quieted the spectators, and without a word. He turned and glowered at the observers and all fell silent.

“You are a justice of the King’s peace… is this not so?” Lord Gilbert growled at Sir Thomas.

“Aye, m’lord.”

“By king’s writ you have power of Oyer et terminer.” Lord Gilbert stood, arms akimbo again, was silent for a moment, then spoke quietly but with menace. “Then set this man free. There is mischief here for you to discover. That coat,” he pointed to the garment before Sir Thomas, “was not stolen by Master Hugh, but ‘twas about to be stolen from Master Hugh by that thief.” He pointed to Sir William, who seemed ready to shrink behind Sir Simon.

The hall was silent. All awaited Sir Thomas’ response. My heart skipped several beats before Sir Thomas spoke.

“My Lord Gilbert persuades me that Master Hugh de Singleton is wrongly… uh, mistakenly accused of theft. The charge is dismissed.”

I looked to Lord Gilbert with a smile of gratitude. When I glanced back at the bench Sir Thomas was gone, about to pass through a door at the side of the hall. My coat lay on the bench, and I moved to retrieve it.

From the corner of my eye I saw Sir Simon and Sir William edging furtively along the wall toward the same door which had swallowed Sir Thomas. They had twice Sir Thomas’ distance to cover, and another also saw their attempt to flee the chamber.

“Halt!” Lord Gilbert bellowed. They halted, eyes wide with concern. A knight should not display fear, but Lord Gilbert is of such rank and stature that even a true knight might regret causing him displeasure.

Sir Simon and Sir William stood motionless, backs against the stone wall of the chamber. Lord Gilbert advanced toward them and did not halt until his face was but a palm’s width from Sir William’s nose. He spoke in a whisper, but my hearing is yet acute, and Lord Gilbert’s whisper, when he is angry, might deafen a man at ten paces. Lord Gilbert was indeed angry.

“What Sir Thomas may make of your perjury I know not. But this I know; do you seek to do ill again to my bailiff, I will see you suffer for it. And do not send some companion to revenge yourself on Master Hugh. Any harm which comes to him I will construe as from you. Is this understood?”

Sir William gulped air and nodded. Lord Gilbert then turned to Sir Simon, who had observed this threat with detachment. Lord Gilbert said no more, but simply glared at Sir Simon under dark brows. The man finally spoke: “Aye, m’lord.”

We made a procession leaving the court chamber; Lord Gilbert, me, the grooms, Kate and her father, and Master Wyclif. Our parade did not halt until we reached the castle forecourt, where a groom had remained with the horses. As we entered the forecourt Arthur arrived upon his wheezing palfrey. Lord Gilbert turned to me and spoke.

“This business is a puzzle to me. Why did that scoundrel accuse you of stealing his coat when he knew it was not so? Has he aught against you?”

“Sir William? Nothing, I think.”

Lord Gilbert frowned and pulled at his beard. “Then why did he wish to see you entertain the commons with the sheriff’s dance?”

“‘Twas not Sir William, I think, who desired that end, but Sir Simon.”

“The sheriff’s son? What have you done to raise his choler? Has this to do with Master Wyclif’s books?”

“Nay. I think not.”

“But that was the business which brought you to Oxford, was it not? What else might provoke Sir Simon’s wrath?”

“There was other business brought me here. You and the Lady Petronilla advised me on the matter.”

“We did?”

“Aye. You suggested I seek a wife in Oxford.”

Understanding washed across Lord Gilbert’s square face. “Ah… and that quest has caused this trouble?”

“I fear so, m’lord. Sir Simon and I court the same maid.”

“Hmm. Sir Simon is a proud man. Like his father.”

The others of our party were privy to this conversation. One of them spoke. “No more, m’lord,” Kate said.

Lord Gilbert peered over my shoulder at Kate Caxton, then met my eyes. “This is the lass?”

“Aye,” I grinned. I thought I understood Kate’s words and could not suppress my joy.

Lord Gilbert inspected Kate again. I turned to follow his gaze and saw her blush and curtsey in response to his scrutiny. His eyes, I thought, lingered upon her longer than was meet. Like most of his station, Lord Gilbert admires a fine horse and a comely lass. Men of any rank are much the same.

It seemed to take Lord Gilbert some effort to draw his eyes from Kate and turn them again to me. I understood his trial. I have the same difficulty when in her presence.

“I applaud your choice, Master Hugh,” he beamed. “I would hear when the banns will be read.”

“Ah… my suit is not yet come to such a happy conclusion, m’lord.”

“No matter, no matter. Lady Petronilla will know of it so soon as may be. Your chamber off the hall in the castle will be too small for a man with a family, I think. We will move you back to Galen House. What say you, Hugh? Will that suit?”

Nobles believe they must order all men’s lives, else the world come undone. But, it is true I had had similar thoughts regarding my habitation should my pursuit of Kate Caxton succeed.

“Well? Cat got your tongue?” Lord Gilbert laughed when I hesitated to reply.

“Nay, m’lord. It would suit very well… but other matters come first.”

“Aye, indeed. Have faith, Hugh,” he clapped me upon my back, “and seek your future. God will grant it, I think, to so loyal a servant of His as you.”

I did not reply to that assertion. It seems to me God does not always grant the requests even of His saints. The Apostle Paul sought the removal of his “thorn in the flesh”, but the plea was not granted.

Robert Caxton’s head swiveled from me to Lord Gilbert and back again. As Lord Gilbert put foot to stirrup I turned to the stationer to see the effect of this conversation. I was gratified to see a smile play across his lips.

Lord Gilbert and the grooms, but for Arthur, mounted their steeds and clattered across the cobbles. Arthur, Robert Caxton, Master John, and I seemed drawn to the same theme and turned as one toward Kate. Whether she was yet crimson from Lord Gilbert’s examination or blushed anew, I know not. An awkward silence followed, until Master John, rarely lost for words, spoke.

“I must return to Canterbury Hall. Hugh, after you have seen Mistress Kate to Holywell Street I would speak to you about the books. But no need for haste,” he added before he turned away.

Arthur glanced about him briefly, decided that it was not so long past dinner that he could not discover a morsel at Canterbury Hall kitchen, and announced that he would accompany Master John and leave the palfrey at the Stag and Hounds. I offered my arm to Kate and we set off behind her father for Holywell Street.

We walked silently until our steps took us from the Canditch to Holywell Street. I searched my mind for some light topic of conversation but nothing offered. This was not the first time I found myself so. The presence of a comely lass will usually strike me dumb. Perhaps Kate had worked this distraction on other lads and understood the effect.

“‘Twas Sir Simon, you think, who set the plot against you?” she offered.

“Aye, so I believe.”

“Because of me, then.”

“The evil another does cannot be laid to you.”

“I should not have agreed when he first began his suit… but he did not seem a wicked sort then.”

“What man would show the baseness in his soul when in pursuit of a maid?”

“‘Tis later, I think, when the maid becomes a wife, that she knows all about her husband,” Kate sighed.

“A man also, will not truly know his wife ‘til they be wed,” I agreed.

“Aye,” Kate sighed. “It is a wonder folk wed at all… such are the hazards.”

“Are there no rewards?”

She was silent for several paces, and slowed her steps so that her father was two houses ahead before she replied. “I think, if the proper mate be found, the risks in marriage be small and the compensation be great.”

“We are of like mind,” I replied. “I remember my parents’ hall, before the great death. There was much bliss in their eyes when they were together at table, or of an evening by the fire.”

“It was so with my father and mother,” Kate replied with somber tone. “I was small when my mother perished, but I remember. ‘Tis why I seek a man like my father.”

“A stationer?”

“Nay,” she laughed. “It is not the ink on a man’s fingers which draws me.”

“Then what?”

“It is a man’s right to rule his house, yet I would seek a husband who will govern justly, as did my father.”

“I wish you success. Your beauty will attract many suitors. You may sort through the swarm until you find such a fellow.”

“Perhaps I have already done so… and ‘tis not Sir Simon,” she said firmly.

“It would give me joy to know it was so. I know I have many challengers for your hand. I wish for no new suitors for competition.”

“A suitor? Why, Master Hugh, do you speak of a suit?”

“Has your father not told you? I asked his permission to pay you court. Did he not say so?”

Kate averted her eyes, and color again rose in her cheeks. “Aye. I jest with you. He did so.”

“And your response?”

“You ask me to uncover a secret between a man and his daughter?”

“Nay… but I would know your heart. Do I have grounds for hope, or do I squander my time and affection?”

We had reached Caxton’s shop, and stopped before the open door whence the stationer had entered a moment before.

“Your hope is pleasing to me, Master Hugh. Do not think otherwise.”

“Then I am Hugh, not Master Hugh.”

“Very well, you shall be Hugh, ‘til God and Holy Church make you my master.”

“God and Holy Church? You have also a choice in the matter, Kate.”

“My choice is made,” she whispered, and held my arm close.

“Shall I then speak to your father?”

“It would please me.”

And so my happiness was sealed while Kate and I walked the Holywell Street to her father’s shop. In but half a day I had gone from fear for my life to success in love. I was much pleased with the turn in my fortune.

We entered the shop as Caxton raised his shutters and prepared to tardily open his shop for the day. Kate looked up to me with expectation, then announced that she would prepare a meal. She disappeared through the open door to the workroom and left me standing before her father. We exchanged stares. It was my obligation to begin this conversation. I sorted through remarks I might make to open the parley. None seemed to suit. Generations of young men have faced the same trial. Caxton guessed at my distress and eased it.

“We are relieved, Kate and I, that Lord Gilbert arrived in Oxford in time.” In time for what he did not say, nor did he need to.

“As am I,” I smiled.

“We slept little last night. Kate shed many tears when she learned you were arrested.”

No man wishes to be the cause of his beloved’s tears, and I was about to say so when Caxton added, “She sobbed that she was to be made a widow before she might be a bride.”

Caxton had pushed open a door. I was not so addled that I could not see and walk through it.