Lost Innocents (A Servant of the Crown Mystery Book 3) (14 page)

Alain waited until Oswald fell silent before shifting his flat gaze from Faucon to his cousin. "Ah, then it must have been you who passed through Alcester a little while earlier and drew the attention of the townsmen. As I arrived, one of the aldermen mentioned seeing Bishop William's knights riding through. Thus did I come to the abbey. William has stayed here on other occasions, and I thought it would be he I caught here this night," he said.

"I beg pardon for disappointing you," Oswald replied, still displaying his empty smile. Then he startled his cousin by adding, "By your greeting to him, I take it that you're already acquainted with my kinsman, Sir Faucon de Ramis?"

Never once in all the years of Faucon's life had he heard Oswald so boldly claim a connection to any of his far less prominent—thus less useful—relations. More to the point, that Oswald made his claim so publicly suggested that both he and their uncle knew just how much illicit profit Sir Alain had lost when the royal court forced a new Keeper of the Pleas on him. That also explained Oswald's strange introduction. It was their uncle speaking through his secretary. Bishop William was doing what he could to protect the lowly and unknown relation he'd recruited to become the first of Warwickshire's new Coronarii.

What neither of Faucon's kinsmen knew was that the reason Alain wanted his new Crowner dead went far deeper than his purse. Rarely did either of Faucon's prominent relatives make a misstep, but this time they couldn't have erred more greatly. Rather than protection, all Oswald's words did was warn the sheriff he'd best be very covert about how he rid himself of his new Crowner. And that only complicated matters for the man they meant to protect.

The sheriff stared down from his saddle at the well-born coxcomb who served his erstwhile friend and former traveling companion. Alain's grizzled brows shifted, the movement minuscule, then he glanced at Faucon. "Aye, Sir Faucon and I are acquainted. Indeed, we grow ever more familiar with the other as the weeks pass."

It was both a careful dodge and a hidden promise of a future confrontation. Sour amusement tugged at Faucon's lips. Oh aye, the two of them were a pair, indeed. The time for hiring the single soldier he could afford had been yesterday.

There was a touch on Faucon's arm. He shifted in sharp surprise, his hand instinctively dropping to his sword hilt. Alf the Miller didn't so much as flinch at the aggressive reaction.

"What are you doing here so far from home, Alf?" Faucon demanded swiftly, his hand falling back to his side.

Alf scrubbed at his brow as if to wipe away his exhaustion. His bloodshot eyes were filled with concern. "A second cousin of 'Wyna was married yesterday in a hamlet not far from here. I came with her as her escort, for her sisters had traveled ahead of her, and Haselor is farther than she was comfortable traveling alone with a child," the former soldier said in explanation, then hurried on. "Sir Faucon, I know you have no cause to grant me a boon, but I beg you—"

"I know you," Alain interrupted in English, dismounting as he spoke to the taller man. "You hail from Priors Holden. You're Halbert the Miller's workman."

The former soldier offered his sheriff a quick and respectful bow but when he straightened, his expression was carefully blank. Alf had his own reasons for being wary of Sir Alain. "Aye, I was Halbert's workman, sir. But as you well know, I no longer serve him. His son's widow and her aunt now run the mill," the tall man lied.

Faucon blinked at that. Why lie when Alf knew the sheriff was aware of who he was and to what Alf was entitled by right of birth? Alain's only reaction to the commoner's reply was another of those brief quirks of his brows.

Alf didn't wait for Sir Alain's response. Instead, he directed the same urgency he'd displayed toward Oswald onto both his Crowner and his sheriff. "Sir Faucon, my lord sheriff, I beg your aid," he began anew. "Last night, Halbert Miller's granddaughter Cissy wandered away from the church in Haselor where a wedding was being celebrated. We don't know how long she was gone before we returned from the shivaree to discover her missing, but we've been searching for her since that moment, scouring the fields and wastes. To no avail. Night is almost upon us and we have yet many furlongs left to walk if we wish to complete the task before dark cloaks all."

He glanced across the faces of his betters. "Sirs, she's but a wee thing, and she's already been lost out there for too long. Please, we need to find her and we need more men to help us if we're to complete our task. Help us convince the monks to assist us in our search."

"You I told! The monks not depart their abbey to seek a child," Oswald replied sharply in his clumsy English. He waved a hand, dismissing the commoner and the lost child, then glanced eagerly toward the abbey's gateway as if ready to be shed of all life outside of the comfortable walls of this house.

"The bishop's secretary is correct, Alf," Faucon seconded, as reluctant as Oswald to let anything distract him from entering the abbey, albeit for different reasons. "You're better off asking in Alcester. The townsmen are far freer to do what you need."

"We have asked them," retorted the common-born priest who accompanied Alf as he pressed his way through Oswald's armed escort to once more stand next to the tall miller. When he continued, he aimed his gaze in the direction of the nearby town, although it couldn't be seen through the trees.

"There is not a charitable heart to be found in that greed-infested place. The alderman we spoke to not only refused us, he threatened to drive us from their walls when we persisted in our pleas. That's why we came here." The priest's tone was resentful.

Again, Alain's brows shifted a little. The sheriff glanced from Oswald to Faucon. His gaze caught and lingered on his new Crowner as he replied to the priest. "Why, if you have no other who will help you in this, Father," he said, "then it must be your sheriff and your keeper who come to your aid. Is that not right, Keeper? We are both free to accompany these men on their quest, are we not? Mounted men will make short work of such a search."

As Alain paused, the corners of his mouth lifted ever so slightly even as he kept his gaze on his Crowner. It was the mockery of a smile. "Aye, it's only right that we go together, do you not think? I and mine will seek the living child, as we must, now that our king has commanded that my only purview be the living. Meanwhile you, Sir Faucon, will ride as the court demands of you, seeking out a dead lass against the possibility that she has already passed." The faintest trace of humor and satisfaction filled his voice.

Before Faucon could form a response, Oswald took a half-step forward almost as if he meant to put himself between his cousin and the sheriff. "But you are right, Sir Alain. We must all go," the bishop's secretary said, that empty smile once more bending his mouth as he returned to his native tongue. "What man can leave an innocent child to perish in the night? If it's men on horseback these commoners require, then I and my knights must also come along. That's four more mounted men, bringing as many more sets of eyes to the task."

Alain made no reply to this, only stared flatly at the well-dressed clerk.

"Pery, tell this man," Oswald continued, speaking to Faucon as he indicated Alf, "that he has won what he needs. Tell him that Bishop William of Hereford has agreed to come to his aid and will find the missing child."

If not for Faucon's certainty that Oswald made his offer to protect him—or rather, to drive home to Sir Alain that Warwickshire's new Coronarius had a bishop's protection—Oswald's pretensions would have had Faucon grinning. Instead, the smile he sent his kinsman was one of gratitude.

"So I shall do, Cousin. And I offer you and Bishop William thanks on this man's behalf. I'm acquainted with him and I know that he's grateful to the depths of his soul for what you've given him this day. But having said that, I think we mustn't delay a moment longer, not if we're to accomplish what he requires."

Faucon cast a quick glance at the sky above. "Sunset will soon be upon us."

He didn't wait for Oswald's response. Instead, he mounted Legate and turned his courser's head away from the abbey. The sooner the girl was found, the sooner he could put a wall of monks, as well as Oswald and three knights, between him and Sir Alain. That would go far to extending the span of his life. At least for today.

Oswald's youngest knight took Alf up behind him while one of Alain's men shared his horse with the priest. That made swift work of the short distance between the abbey and nearest fields around Haselor. As the impromptu rescue party made their way across the furrows and stubble, the priest called out to the searchers, telling them to return to their church. By the time they reached the churchyard, nearly a hundred followed. That so many had participated in this search spoke well of this place. It wasn't everywhere that folk would spend precious time, or have risked even more precious garments to the rain, to seek a child who was a stranger to them, albeit one related by blood to a neighbor.

The church of Saint Mary's and All Saints sat at the center of several wide-spread hamlets including Haselor. Built of stone and small in size, its style suggested an origin more ancient than the arrival of Faucon's ancestors with the Conqueror. The original builders had chosen to set their holy house on a knoll that gave its shepherd a good view of both the area and his flock.

Strewn around the sanctuary were several small cottages, one of which was no doubt this priest's home. There were also a number of sheds and barns, the sort that any rural peasant might have to serve his needs. Sheep baaed from a fold behind one shed, testifying that this priest was a shepherd in more ways than one.

There was no need to command the attention of the foot-bound folk who gathered around the mounted newcomers. It wasn't every day that their sheriff appeared with four armed knights and an expensively-dressed coxcomb. Nor was it every day that they could boldly watch as their sheriff lost an argument to his better. After haggling briefly with Oswald over who would command the venture, Alain gave way to the bishop's secretary.

Thus it was at Oswald's command that each rider took a local behind him to act as a guide while they rode the unexamined furlongs. That was, all save Oswald. Faucon's cousin insisted that someone needed to stay behind to coordinate the effort. Faucon knew his cousin better. Oswald no more wanted to share his horse, a spirited and expensive gray palfrey, with a commoner than he wanted to be in this rustic place, searching for a commoner's lost child, especially a girl child.

Off the knights and soldiers had gone, along with the crowd of commoners to walk the last furrows with them. However reasonable the plan, it proved as ineffective as the earlier search. Just as no amount of beating the brush or peering into thickets over the course of the previous night and day had produced Cissy, neither did calling her name while riding up and down the edges of the fields at sunset. By the time the sky had shifted from orange to pewter and the first star had appeared low in the east, all the riders had returned to the church. Faucon and the youth assigned to guide him were the last to arrive, making their entry to the yard on the piercing shriek of the owl perched atop one of the sheds.

"Did you find her?" Oswald called out to him. Shouting sent his high-strung mount into another fretful dance. That set the milling commoners in the churchyard into a backward wave of motion as they gave space to the iron-shod creature.

Faucon shook his head, then drew Legate to halt not far from Oswald, as the lad behind him slid off the courser's rump. "We did not."

"May God have mercy on the child's soul," his cousin replied with a relieved sigh. "Tell them, Pery. Explain to them that they must have faith. They must believe that this child is now in their Lord's hands. If our heavenly Father wishes her to be found, she will be. But that moment will come only at a time of our Lord's choosing."

Before Faucon could do as Oswald requested, Alain raised his voice and spoke for the bishop's secretary. He translated Oswald's words, then added his own instructions. "Go home, all of you. There's nothing more to be done here."

"Nay!" came a woman's shriek from near the church door.

Cissy's mother, who had been forced by her kin to stay behind at the church on this last search, now thrust her way through the folk standing between her and Oswald. Her sisters followed, both of them holding their arms at the ready as if they expected their sibling to topple at any moment. All three women were pretty, tall, and golden-haired, although at the moment 'Wyna looked ancient, beyond spent. Her blond hair was torn from her plaits as if she already mourned her child as dead. Her eyes were red-rimmed from crying.

"You cannot leave when my precious babe is still out there! We have to find her. You have to help!" 'Wyna shouted as she reached the forefront of the crowd.

Then she tried to push past a bulky man, as if she intended to confront Oswald more directly. Her sisters wisely caught her by the arms, holding her in place. Lunging against their control, the grieving mother pleaded, her voice still disrespectfully raised, "You cannot go! You cannot leave her out there."