carefully.’
‘Is this possible?’ queried Marisa.
‘Oak trees grow for centuries.’ Ralph replied. ‘These were probably here before Rome’s legions left.’ He shrugged. ‘It’s the only answer to the riddle I can come up with. If you think I’m a madcap or wish to return to Ravenscroft…’ He looked hard at Adam.
‘No, no.’ Adam smiled. ‘Let’s begin the search.’
Ralph waited until they were busy then walked across the clearing, straight to the fifth oak tree from his right. He stared up. On the side facing the glade there was nothing but on the other, just before the trunk branched out, he glimpsed a moss-covered hollow. He glanced over his shoulder. Adam and Marisa were busy searching. Ralph paused, whispered a short prayer then, using the knots and gnarls on the trunk, began to climb. After a while he managed to swing himself up above the hollow, ignoring the pain from the cut on his hand.
‘Have you found anything?’ Adam shouted.
‘No,’ Ralph lied. ‘I thought there was a hollow but it’s where a branch has been sawn off.’
He waited until his companions’ attention was once more on their search, then drew the dagger from his belt – he had left his sword on the ground. He scraped away the moss and found quite a large hollow. It was full of fungi. He cleared this away too and put his hand in. Twigs, crumbling remains of acorn, the remnants of a bird’s nest pricked his fingers and the hard wood scored his wrist. He leaned to his left, tightened his grip on the branch and dug his hand deeper. His fingers touched something cold and hard and what seemed to be bits of parchment or leather. He stretched in. The wood scraped his wrist, his fingers were bruised but at last he gripped then pulled the object up.
The cross had been wrapped in a leather sack which had rotted, and its silver chain was broken and tarnished, but the cross itself winked and gleamed in the early morning light as if it had been placed there the previous day. It was pure gold, six inches across, nine inches long, marked and scraped, but still a gorgeously rich ornament. Ralph stared at the glowing jewel in the centre where the crosspieces met and marvelled at the strange symbols cut into the gold by some long dead craftsman.
‘Brythnoth’s cross!’ Ralph whispered.
It weighed heavy in his hands, pure gold at least one inch thick. Bits of the leather sack still clung to the cross. Ralph closed his eyes, unaware of Adam’s and Marisa’s chatter, the sounds of the spinney. He felt as if he was stretching across the centuries, meeting Cerdic the squire who had hidden it here so many years ago. Ralph could imagine the young man hastening from the battlefield, desperate to return, wondering where to hide the cross. Perhaps he had played here as a boy and knew about this hollow…?
‘Ralph! Ralph! What have you there?’
Adam and Marisa were beneath the oak tree staring up at him. Marisa had picked up his sword and tossed it away. Adam’s hand stretched up.
‘You’ve found the cross, haven’t you? You’ve found it! You knew where it was all the time. Pass it down!’ The greed flared in Adam’s eyes, his lips parted.
Ralph let the cross drop. Adam caught it and he and Marisa moved away. Ralph climbed down the tree and jumped to the ground. He picked up his sword then sat with his back to the tree.
‘It’s beautiful, isn’t it?’ he said.
Adam and Marisa came and knelt before him. Ralph noticed how Marisa rested the arbalest against her knee.
‘It’s magnificent.’ Adam cradled it as if it was a child.
Ralph stretched out his hand. ‘Let me have another look, Adam.’
Adam passed it over. Ralph held up the cross up and both the gold and the jewel caught the light, shimmering and glittering as he turned and twisted it.
‘What will you do with it?’ Marisa asked.
‘I will look at it.’ Ralph smiled. ‘Then I shall travel to Canterbury. This belongs to the Church, it’s a sacred relic. I am sure my Lord Archbishop will reward me well.’
‘To Canterbury?’ Adam was incredulous, eyes wide, face pale. ‘You’ll give this over to mumbling priests?’ He leaned closer. ‘It’s treasure, Ralph. Take your dagger, gouge out the jewel, pay a forge to smelt the gold down.’
‘Cerdic hid it here,’ Ralph said as if he hadn’t heard, ‘because it is sacred. It was owned by a brave hero who was determined that it wouldn’t fall into the hands of a pagan invader.’ He put the cross on the grass beside him. ‘We’ve been given this cross in trust, Adam. It’s not for me, or you.’
Adam narrowed his eyes. ‘You knew where it was all of the time. Why did you bring us here?’
‘Why, Adam, if I had left by myself you would have only followed. Better to have you sitting before me than an arrow in my back!’
‘What do you mean?’ Marisa snapped but her eyes shifted to the golden cross.
‘Just look at you,’ Ralph replied. ‘Killers and thieves both, aren’t you?’ His hand fell to his dagger. ‘You show no remorse, no sorrow. Your souls must be as dark as midnight, and to think both of you claim to be my friends!’ He shook his head. ‘You’re nothing but assassins. You knew I was searching for the cross: it can’t be mere legend if Ralph is pursuing it with such zeal, eh? And I was so trusting.’ He balanced the cross in his hands. ‘I wrote down my findings and I’d leave my manuscript on my table and my door unlocked. Who would care if Adam and Marisa, Ralph’s bosom friends, were found in his chamber? I wonder how many times you visited. You must have read every word I wrote. And then that banquet, on May Day, when we all sat out on the green laughing and joking.’ Ralph blinked back the tears and struggled to keep his voice calm.
Both Adam and Marisa were looking at him though even now they seemed more intent on the cross than anything else.
‘I was truly stupid,’ Ralph continued. ‘I let slip that I’d find the cross sooner than later. You decided that I’d led you long enough. You could do without Ralph.’ He picked up the cross and thrust it under Adam’s face. ‘That’s when the darkness in you rose. A hurried discussion, was it? Old Ralph going up on the parapet walk but it wasn’t me, was it? Poor Beatrice! She went there and one or both of you brutally killed her. Adam and Marisa, the loving couple, who’d always be able to guarantee they knew where the other was when something terrible happened.’
‘Ralph.’ Adam shook his head but his hand had moved to the hilt of his dagger. ‘You don’t know what you’re saying. You are overcome with grief.’
‘What are you waiting for, Adam?’ Ralph smiled back. ‘Are you going to reassure me? Wait until I get up and turn my back on you? No, I’ll stay here until my story’s done!’
Chapter 5
‘Not so long ago…’ Ralph stared beyond these killers and was comforted to see some movement in the trees. He only hoped Sir John would follow his instructions and advice. So far, this precious pair had confessed to nothing.
‘Not so long ago,’ he repeated, ‘we were just two clerks. Adam, you had Marisa, I had Beatrice. I mentioned Brythnoth’s cross and what became an interest to you turned into obsession. You realised I was very close to discovering it. Why should I have the glory, not to mention the wealth? You or Marisa visited my chamber. Do you know, even before Beatrice died, I used to smell the perfume in my chamber but I thought it was a comforting trace of her presence. After you had killed her, I still caught the fragrance in my chamber, and also in the Salt Tower. At the time it reassured me. I believed Beatrice was beside me. Now I realise, you used to go to my room, both before and after her death, to study my papers, to see what progress I was making.’ He glanced at Marisa. She was very composed, head down, eyes watching from underneath her brows, a smile on her lips as if relishing her own cunning.
‘I was stupid. I really trusted you. Little Phoebe, she was different, wasn’t she? Did she see you in my chamber? Did she overhear some conversation?’
‘She was a meddling brat!’ Marisa broke in. ‘Ever at keyholes, or her ear pressed against the door!’ She shook away Adam’s warning hand. ‘I couldn’t abide her! Those clever eyes, that smirk, whatever she knew she’d
