The Reeve's Tale (20 page)

Whoever had done it likely was damned, unless he turned penitent, made confession to a priest, and did penance, Frevisse thought, but aloud asked Perryn, “Why didn’t you recognize your hood and the belt when you went for the body?”

‘I didn’t see them. Nay, I saw the hood but didn’t heed it, didn’t look close at it, not to know it was mine until I saw the crowner had it and thought back.“

‘You didn’t look closely at it until then?“ Frevisse asked doubtfully.

Perryn shifted, gave a sideways look at Dickon. “I was heeding him.”

‘I was crying,“ Dickon admitted, a little defiantly, refusing to be ashamed despite he likely was. ”Simon took me away while I did and we didn’t see anything of Tom’s b… body being put on the hurdle. Then there was a blanket over it.“

‘When you found the body,“ Frevisse said, ”did you see the hood and belt then?“

‘The hood was lying in the grass on the ditch side, not all the way to the bottom.“ Dickon frowned, thinking. ”Like it had been tossed there, maybe. Tom looked like he’d been rolled down into the ditch and the hood looked like maybe it’d been tossed after him.“

‘But it was you put it over his face?“ Perryn asked gently.

‘Aye.“ Dickon swallowed thickly. ”The birds had been at his… eyes. I didn’t want to leave… leave him… to them…“ Hot color rushed up his face with memory and still-fresh anger. ”They could at least have rolled him over, whoever put him there! Left him face down so the birds couldn’t… couldn’t…“

He shut his eyes and bent his head, to keep in or at least hide tears, and Elena came quickly around the table to him, to lay her hands on his shoulders from behind and say with some of the same anger, “They should have. You’re right. It was cruel not to. You did best for him and bravely, too.”

Perryn took hold of his nearer arm and gave it a kind shake. “You did well, Dickon. Better than most would have.”

Dickon raised his head, wiping tears. “I didn’t see any belt there except what he was wearing and that was just his old one.”

But the other men had seen Gilbey’s and yet had said nothing, not then or afterward. Why? Frevisse wondered but asked aloud, “Perryn, did you or anyone look around for any signs of whoever else had been there?”

‘I looked a little after the body was moved, but there was nothing. The ditch is all grass that wouldn’t keep tracks, and the lane near to there is hard dirt besides being used enough no tracks on it would mean much.“

‘It had rained the morning before.“

‘Not so much everything hadn’t dried by Monday noon.“

Long before Hulcote’s body was brought that way.

She looked to Dickon again. “What did you hear about the hood and belt while you were at the crowner’s court? Who said they were found with the body? Who gave them to him?”

‘I don’t know,“ Dickon answered toward his bare feet, wriggling his toes uncomfortably. ”When I was let go in, the belt and hood were lying there, and the crowner already knew whose they were and all.“

‘Is this taking us anywhere of any use?“ Gilbey bulled in impatiently.

‘It’s taking us out of knowing nothing into knowing something,“ Frevisse said back at him. ”And every something we know takes us a little farther toward maybe knowing enough. Perryn, when did you last have your hood?“

‘When?“ He thought, with an absent nod at Elena offering to refill his goblet while he did. ”It’s been warm. I’ve not needed it since it last rained. That was…“ He stopped, seeing what he was about to say.

Gilbey said it for him. “Monday morning. Today’s the first it’s rained since then.” He held out his goblet for his wife to fill.

‘You’re sure that’s when you had it last?“ Frevisse asked. ”That you had it then?“

‘Certain of it,“ Perryn said. ”I went before milking to see how things were at the church. I mind I stood in the house doorway putting on my hood, watching the rain and wondering if there’d be enough to help the corn along.“

‘When and where do you last know you had it?“

‘At my house, when I’d come back from the church that morning. The rain was stopped and the hood was wet, and I took it off before I sat down to breakfast.“ He thought a moment longer. ”I’ve no thought of it after that.“

Frevisse looked to Gilbey. “Your belt. When did you last have it?”

‘Sunday,“ he said. ”After that…“ He shrugged and looked to his wife questioningly.

‘He wore it Saturday when he went to fetch the doctor and was wearing it when he came home again,“ Elena said.

‘For all the good it did to bring that fool,“ Gilbey grouched. ”I had to pay him above his fee to make him come at all, and then when he’s here all he says is that the thing has to run its course, keep them in the dark and their fevers down, and then he offered some medicine we could have for a gold piece but if that swill was medicine, I’m a peascod. I wouldn’t have taken the filth myself if I was dying, let be give it to the boys.“

‘Nor did we,“ Elena said. She had set the pitcher down after Frevisse had refused more to drink and went now to stand behind Gilbey, putting her hands quietingly on his shoulders much as she had with Dickon. ”What Mistress Margery gave us…“

A thin, unhappy wail from overhead turned all their heads toward the stairs, and, “That’s Ned,” Gilbey said, rising. “I’ll go, before he can have James awake.”

Frevisse hoped she covered her surprise that he would go to tend to a sick child and maybe to two if the other awoke, but Elena only said to him as he went, “Send Agnes down if it’s possible. She’s as like to know about your belt, about who’s come and gone from the house since Sunday, as anyone.”

‘Aye,“ Gilbey agreed, disappearing up the stairs.

Suddenly not trying to hide how tired she was, Elena sat down in his place, her hands dropping into her lap, her shoulders slumping; but she managed her lovely smile, shadowed though her eyes were, and said, “I’m sorry. It’s not been a good week.”

Frevisse smiled back at her with full understanding and agreement. “No, it’s not been.” But that did not change what had to be done now, as quickly as might be before Montfort made things worse. “What else do you remember about Sunday and Monday? Who came and went from here is what matters, I suppose. Or maybe we should begin with what you last remember about the belt.”

Elena put a hand to her forehead and shut her eyes, thinking before answering, “I remember it Sunday night, Gilbey taking it off. We’d given the doctor our bed.” She gestured toward upstairs with a small twitch of her head. “Gilbey was going to sleep down here and Agnes and I with the boys, but Gilbey and I stayed talking a time before I went up after Agnes. He was angry about the doctor. I was angry he’d gone for him at all. Mistress Margery…” She broke off, said with a smile, “That’s neither here nor there. About the belt. I remember him taking it off while we talked because he was starting to ready for bed. He coiled it up and put it down here on the table.” She reached out to lay a hand on the nearest corner of the broad tabletop, fell silent with more thought, then shook her head. “I don’t remember seeing it after that. The doctor went very early the next morning. He’d brought his own man with him, so Gilbey didn’t have to go back with him. Ned and James were worsening by the moment by then, and I hardly heeded anything else all day. Or the next or next. I never thought about the belt at all from then until now.”

An older woman came down the stairs, sidewise as if she did not trust her knees on their steepness. Like Elena, she showed both the tiredness and untidiness of too many days spent caring for someone else and not herself, but when she turned from the stairs, the look she gave them all was sharp-eyed enough to show she was ready for more, if need be, and after a deep curtsy to Frevisse and while making a lesser one to Perryn and Elena together and ignoring Dickon, she said, “They’ll settle again now their father is there. He said you wanted me for something, mistress?”

By her speech she was from Banbury, rather than country bred, had probably come from there with Elena who nodded her toward one of the joint stools, saying, “Sit while you have the chance. Dame Frevisse has questions she wants to ask us about Monday last.”

‘Monday last?“ Agnes sat frowning over Monday last. ”That fool of a doctor was here who couldn’t tell you more than I already knew.“

That sounded like something Agnes would talk about at length, given the chance, and Frevisse put in quickly, “After he left, did anyone else come here that day?”

‘Monday,“ Agnes repeated, thinking about it. ”The boys were sickening by the moment that day, worse and worse, poor little things.“ She fixed an accusing stare on Dickon. ”You’re still well enough, it seems.“

‘I was meseled when I was little,“ he said uneasily, as if it were a matter of guilt. Or something he had had to explain too often of late.

‘And lived. That’s good.“ She looked to Elena who was making the sign of the cross over her breast. ”Ours will do fine now, too. You’ll see.“ But she and Perryn and Dame Frevisse and Dickon all crossed themselves nonetheless before she returned to the point. ”Monday. No, I wasn’t heeding much else than the boys, would I be? Mistress Margery came. After the doctor was gone. Said we should steep balm in water for the boys’ drinking, to help against the fevers rising, and chamomile, and said the nuns were going to send a columbine cordial as soon as it was brewed. She brought that Tuesday morning, yes. And Father Edmund, he was here on Monday.“

‘Ah,“ Elena said. ”I’d forgotten that. Yes, he prayed with us.“

‘And that old cat Esota Emmet,“ Agnes said. ”She came in hard on his heels, to see what was what.“

‘She came to see if she could help with anything,“ Elena said.

‘Since two of her granddaughters are meseled,“ Agnes returned, ”she had more business seeing to them than nosing in here.“

Leaving that argument behind, Elena said, “Jack was in here a few times of course.”

‘Jack?“ Dame Frevisse asked.

‘Jack Fleccher. He sees to the byre and cattleyard and helps out with anything else that’s needed,“ Elena said.

Frevisse remembered mention of him to Montfort and asked something that had occurred to her then. “He’s related to Bert Fleccher?”

‘Bert’s youngest son. We hire his wife, too, sometimes, to help in house or the fields, as need be.“

‘Was she here Sunday or Monday?“

‘Their youngest is sick with the others. I’ve not seen her since Friday, I think. Agnes?“

Agnes pursed her lips, thinking. “No, she’s not been here. There’ve not been many folk in and out, but I can’t be sure who was here which day, things being at sixes and sevens as they are. Was it Monday or Tuesday Joan Whit was here with those baked apples? And Walter Hopper sent that Hamon once, to ask if there was aught help Jack might need. That might have been Monday?”

She asked it of Elena, who shook her head and spread her hands palms upward apologetically to Dame Frevisse. “I don’t know. I would have said Father Edmund came on Tuesday, rather than Monday.”

‘Not Tuesday,“ Agnes said. ”Monday. And Wednesday, too, and again yesterday. It was Mistress Margery came back on Tuesday to see how the boys did, to bring the columbine cordial and be sure we were using the balm and to say we could send to the church for her any time, which thank God we’ve not needed to do. It’s that Esota who hasn’t been back. Monday afternoon. That was when Joan Whit came.“

Dame Frevisse prodded a little with more questions but that was as much as either woman was sure of, except that Agnes remembered the belt being on the table Monday morning, after the doctor and his fellow had gone. “I meant to fetch it upstairs to put away but I didn’t and when next I thought of it, you had,” she said to Elena, then added with sudden suspicion, “Hadn’t you?”

‘No, but it’s taken care of. I’ll tell you later,“ Elena said. ”Be so good as to go back upstairs for Gilbey to come down.“

Agnes’ eyes were sharp with speculation but she simply obeyed, increasing Frevisse’s respect for Elena’s hold over her household. Family servants and husbands were usually the hardest to manage, but she seemed to have both well in hand.

As Agnes left, Elena rose to offer more ale, which Perryn took and this time so did Frevisse. Gilbey came down as she was finishing pouring and retook his chair, holding out his own goblet to be refilled while answering his wife’s questioning look with, “They’re sleeping again and cool, no fever at all.”

Elena briefly closed her eyes, lips moving in silent prayer.

‘What did Agnes know?“ Gilbey asked. ”Anything of use?“

He sounded as if he thought it unlikely.

‘That your belt was here Monday after the doctor left, but neither of us remember it after that,“ Elena said.

Gilbey grunted. “Anything about who else has been here?”

‘Too much,“ Frevisse said, ”and nothing to the point yet.“

‘So we’re nowhere,“ Perryn said glumly.

‘No,“ Frevisse disagreed. ”We’ve brought it down to the hood and belt having been taken sometime on Monday. We’re certain Hulcote was dead by then. That means they were taken of a purpose to make the two of you look guilty of his death.“

‘Where does that bring us except still no place?“ Gilbey demanded.

‘It brings us,“ Frevisse returned, ”to ask who dislikes the two of you so much that they want to make you this much trouble. And to ask, along with that, who wanted Hulcote dead.“