Sir Hugh Corbett 11 - The Demon Archer

as?’
    ‘Where was your father when the hunt was taking Place?’
    Alicia swallowed hard. ‘My father was with the others, the verderers.’
    ‘No, he wasn’t. He was with you, wasn’t he?’
    Alicia blinked and nodded. ‘My father was terrified that Lord Henry would use the hunt, and his absence, to slip back and...’
    ‘Meet you?’
    ‘No, Sir Hugh, accost me! Kick down the door, force himself upon me. As he tried to do on numerous occasions. I was frightened. My father was agitated. He came back to our house on the estate. I told him all would be well, then he left, hurrying back before he was missed.’
    ‘And during that time Lord Henry was killed?’
    ‘My father arrived at Savernake Dell shortly after the assassin struck. He took one look at what had happened and ran back to me. He wanted to flee, reach one of the ports, Rye , Winchelsea, go abroad.’ The young woman paused. ‘I refused. I said it was unjust to flee from a crime of which we were both innocent.’
    ‘Why didn’t you flee before?’ Corbett asked.
    ‘Sir Hugh, where could we go? My father is a verderer. The roads are full of landless families while Lord Henry’s arm was both strong and very long. Why should we give up our lives because of his lust?’
    ‘Are you glad he’s dead?’
    ‘He can burn in Hell for what he did to me and my father.’
    ‘And now?’ Corbett asked.
    ‘Sir William is one of the same stock . But, deep in his heart, I think he’s shamed by what his brother did.’
    ‘And so, why have you come to me?’
    ‘My father’s in sanctuary.’
    ‘You can still visit him.’
    ‘For how long?’
    ‘Tomorrow,’ Corbett replied quickly. ‘Tomorrow I will hold court in St Oswald’s church. I will summon all those involved in this matter and search out the truth. Is that not correct, Ranulf?’
    Corbett was now alarmed by his manservant: he hadn’t touched his food or uttered one syllable but stared fixedly at Alicia. Usually, in the presence of a pretty young woman, Ranulf was all merry-eyed and quick-witted, ever ready to flirt. Now he sat like a moonstruck calf, though Alicia seemed not to notice.
    ‘I must return.’ She moved back the stool and rose.
    ‘I... I will see you to your horse.’
    Ranulf pushed his trauncher away and rose like a sleepwalker. He took the young woman’s arm and gently escorted her across the taproom and out to the stable yard. A groom led across a sorry-looking cob, the saddle across its back battered and worn. Ranulf made an angry gesture with his hand and grabbed the reins himself. He then helped Alicia up into the saddle.
    ‘You ride like a man?’ He found the question stilted and clumsy. He just wished this young woman would notice him and not ride away. She glanced down.
    ‘You must be Ranulf-atte-Newgate?’
    ‘Yes,’ he answered in a rush. ‘Senior clerk in the Chancery of the Green Wax.’
    She smiled. ‘Do you always stare at women?’
    Ranulf rubbed sweat-soaked hands on his jerkin.
    ‘I’ve never seen anyone like you before.’
    Alicia laughed. ‘With two heads!’
    ‘No, you’ve only got one,’ Ranulf replied seriously. He grabbed the reins again and stared fiercely up at her. ‘Your father’s innocent,’ he said hoarsely. ‘He must be innocent.’ He caught the look of disquiet in her eyes. ‘No, no, you wait and see. Old Master Long Face in there, I mean Sir Hugh, he will discover the truth.’
    ‘Are you looking for a bribe?’ she asked sweetly. ‘Is that why you are here, Ranulf-atte-Newgate? Are you like the rest, your brains in your hose?’
    Ranulf blushed. ‘You misunderstand me, madam.’
    ‘Do I now? I have never misunderstood a man in my life! All sweetness and light, ready to play Cat’s-Cradle?’
    ‘That is not the case!’ Ranulf snapped, spots of anger high on his cheeks. He was mystified, baffled by what was happening, but the young woman’s face, her mannerisms, the shifting moods in those eyes, entranced him. Ranulf quietly cursed. He was tongue-tied. Strange, the woman reminded him of Lady Maeve, Corbett’s wife: she had the same effect. If he was honest, Ranulf felt overawed, even frightened, and this made him angry. He, Ranulf-atte-Newgate, clerk, bully-boy, fighting man! Alicia was still studying him.
    ‘You are telling the truth, aren’t you?’ she said quietly. ‘You really don’t mean any offence? I’ve never seen a man blush before.’ She gathered the reins up. ‘I am sorry if I was brusque.’
    She