Heartstone

meaningfully, then turned to Fulstowe. 'It was an extraordinary scene, was it not, Ambrose?'

Fulstowe nodded gravely. 'Master David was there as well, he looked terrified.'

'What was Hugh's reaction, Master Hobbey?'

'He was afraid. Both boys said later that Calfhill just appeared from the old nuns' cemetery.'

'He must have been hiding there,' Fulstowe added. 'It is very overgrown.'

So you see,' Dyrick said, 'Michael Calfhill was a pervert. Probably thoughts of what he would like to do with Hugh had been roiling in his mind for years and driven him mad.' He reached across the table and slapped his hand down on a moth which had fallen to the table and fluttered there, desperately beating its burned wings. He wiped the mess on a napkin. 'Forgive me, Nicholas, but it was annoying me. Now, Brother Shardlake. How do you wish to proceed with the depositions?'

I addressed Hobbey. 'I would like to talk to Hugh, of course, and yourself and your wife.'

Hobbey nodded. 'So long as Master Dyrick is present at all the interviews.'

'And Master David.'

'No,' Dyrick said firmly. 'He is a minor. Hugh is too, but the court will wish to see his evidence despite his youth. David is a different matter.'

I went on, 'And Fulstowe, and such servants as have dealings with the boys.'

'God's death,' Dyrick said. 'We will be here till the leaves fall.'

'Fulstowe certainly.' Hobbey leaned forward, speaking in the same quiet, even tone but with a steely note now. 'But my servants know the boys only as masters.'

'The Court of Wards would not permit random interrogation of servants,' Dyrick said firmly, 'unless they had particular knowledge. It undermines the relationship between master and servant.'

Dyrick was right; I had been testing the water. I could not force the servants, or David, to give depositions unless I believed they had particular evidence. I would, though, have liked to talk to David; there was an uneasiness under his spoiled foolishness. And Abigail had spoken of the servants murdering them in their beds, while Dyrick had told me Hobbey wished to enclose the village lands. If the servants were village folk, that might explain Abigail's fear. It might also mean some would be willing to talk to me.

'We will leave David and the servants,' I said, 'for now.'

'For good and all,' Dyrick said emphatically.

'Then there is the feodary,' I added. 'Sir Quintin Priddis.'

Hobbey nodded. 'I have written to him and had a letter back today. At the moment he is in Christchurch, but he is coming to Portsmouth on Friday. I would suggest we go to see him there.'

'I would prefer to meet him here,' I answered. 'Over the next couple of days I would like to see Hugh's woodlands, then I hoped Sir Quintin and I could ride Hugh's lands together. So that I might ask him about the stretches of woodland which have been cut, how much each part fetched.'

'I doubt he would be able to do that,' Hobbey replied. 'Sir Quintin Priddis is an old man, infirm of body though not of mind. And those woods are hard going. If lands have to be ridden his son, Edward, usually does that. And I do not know whether Edward Priddis is with him.'

Dyrick nodded agreement. 'I think the court would expect you to accommodate Master Hobbey where possible, Brother Shardlake. Can you not see Sir Quintin in Portsmouth? If his son is with him, perhaps he could ride back with us if you insist on riding Hugh's lands.'

I considered. The King's party would not be arriving for ten days. Portsmouth was still safe for me. 'Very well. Provided, Master Hobbey, that you write to him making clear I may request him or his son to come here afterwards.'

Hobbey looked at me seriously. 'I wish only to cooperate, Master Shardlake, to meet all reasonable demands.' He emphasized the 'reasonable'. 'I will have my books of account sent up to your room,' he added.

'Thank you.' I rose. 'Then until tomorrow, sir. Fulstowe, I would like to take this letter to Barak. His wife has a baby due soon. Perhaps you would tell me where his quarters are.'

The steward stepped forward. 'Certainly. He is in one of the old outhouses. I will take you there.'

'I will not trouble you. I can walk round.'

'It is dark out there now,' Hobbey said.

'No matter. I was brought up in the country.'

* * *

WE LEFT THE great hall. Master Hobbey bade us goodnight and climbed the stairs; Dyrick gave me a curt nod and said, 'Till tomorrow.' I followed Fulstowe outside. He stood on the steps, looking up at the stars.

'A fine night, sir,' he observed, smiling deferentially. I thought, this is a proper steward, loyal to his master, not an oaf like Coldiron. But I did not trust him an inch.

'Indeed. Let us hope this better weather continues.'

Fulstowe indicated a row of substantial buildings against the side wall of the enclosure. 'Your servant is in the fourth building down. You are sure you would not like me to accompany you?'

'No, thank you. I will see you tomorrow.'

He bowed. 'Then goodnight, sir. I will leave the door open a little for you.'

I walked down the steps. I took a deep breath, relieved to be away from them all. I breathed in the country scents, grass and the rich fragrance of flowers from Abigail's garden. I had still not got used to the silence after those days on the road.

There was a footstep behind me, I was sure. I looked round. The only light came from the moon, and a few candles shimmering at the priory windows. I could see nobody, but the lawn was dotted with trees behind which someone could hide. Fear came on me again, the fear that had been with me since the corner boys' attack, and I realized how much I missed the security of riding with Leacon's company. I hurried on, turning back every few seconds to signal to anyone looking that they had been heard. I counted along the squat, functional outhouses, knocking heavily on the door of the fourth. It opened and Barak looked out, dressed in his shirt.

'It's you. God's teeth, I thought someone was trying to batter the door down. Come in.'

I followed him inside. A mean little room with a truckle bed in the corner, lit by a cheap, smoky, tallow candle. I took out the letter.

'News from Tamasin?' he said, his face suddenly bright.

'I have had a letter from Guy, he says she continues well.'

Barak tore open the letter and read it. He smiled broadly. 'Yes, all is well. Tammy says she is doing everything Jane Marris tells her. I'm not sure I believe her, though.'

'Is not the letter written in Guy's hand?' I asked curioulsy.

Barak flushed, then looked at me. 'Tamasin can barely write, did you not know?'

'No.' I was embarrassed. 'I am sorry, I thought—'

'Tamasin is a woman of low birth, she was taught little more than to sign her own name.' His tone was sharp, I had annoyed him. 'Did Guy tell you how Ellen was?'

'Guy had not visited her when he wrote.' He grunted. 'No Feaveryear for company?' I asked in an effort to lighten the atmosphere.

'No, thank heaven. He's next door. I heard him at his prayers through the wall a while ago.'

'Well, we cannot grudge him his belief.'

'I grudge his deference to that Dyrick. He thinks the sun shines out of his arse.'

'Yes. 'Tis well said that a faithful servant shall become a perpetual ass.'

Barak looked at me closely. 'Are you all right? You seemed scared when you came in.'

'I thought I heard someone following me. I was probably mistaken.' I laughed uneasily. 'No corner boys here.'

'We still don't know who set them on you. Do you think it could have been Hobbey?'

'I don't know. He is a hard man for all his civility.' I shook my head. 'But there was no time for him to instruct anyone.'

'What of Hugh Curteys? How does he seem?'

'Well. I have just dined with the family. I think he would like to go and join the army.'

Barak raised his eyebrows. 'Rather him than me. When do you think we will get home?'

'We have to go to Portsmouth on Friday to see Priddis, the feodary. Then we shall see.'

'Friday? Shit, I thought we would be on the road home by then.'