Sir Hugh Corbett 11 - The Demon Archer

her.’
    ‘So she could be in Rye ?’
    ‘It’s possible.’ Red Hair spoke up. ‘But Mistress Roheisia is correct. Lord Henry had a fancy for the girl. He lay with her on a number of occasions and then she was gone.’
    ‘Is this customary?’
    ‘If a lord likes a wench, he can buy her indentures and rent her a private chamber for his own personal pleasure.’ Roheisia shrugged one shoulder then winked at Corbett as a sign that she wished to say more but not here. ‘So,’ Roheisia said as she got to her feet. ‘If, sir clerk, you have no more questions for my sisters, they need their rest.’
    Corbett looked round the different faces but could detect no sign or gesture that these ladies of the night were prepared to help him. He thanked them, handed two pieces of silver to Roheisia to buy each a goblet of wine and followed her back into the parlour. Roheisia closed the door behind him and stood, clicking her tongue.
    ‘I am sorry.’ She smiled. ‘But your silver has just jogged my memory. Françoise was close to Cecilia but, like any of us, would never stop one of her sisters’ advancement. To become the mistress of a manor lord marked the beginning of a prosperous career.’
    ‘But?’ Corbett asked.
    ‘Cecilia left about two months ago. One evening I found Françoise here, in the parlour, in a terrible rage. She wouldn’t tell me what had happened except what you learned in there: how Lord Henry had bundled Cecilia aboard a ship and sent her to foreign parts.’
    ‘Why?’
    ‘I don’t know. But Françoise declared she had made careful searches among the different ships which berth at Rye . Apparently she learnt from a captain of a cog what Lord Henry had done.’
    ‘And?’
    ‘All Françoise said was that she’d teach that reprobate to treat Cecilia as he had. I asked what she meant by that, she didn’t reply.’
    ‘Did Françoise leave any private papers?’ Ranulf asked. ‘Documents, letters?’
    Corbett took out a pure gold piece from his purse. Greed flared in Roheisia’s eyes.
    ‘Françoise could write and read her letters.’
    ‘And could Cecilia?’
    ‘It’s possible.’
    ‘What did this Cecilia look like?’ Corbett asked.
    ‘Oh, young, slender, very beautiful, hair like spun gold. It fell down almost to the floor, very proud of it was Cecilia. Françoise used to comb it for her. Very popular with the lords was our young Cecilia. Françoise made them pay heavily for her favours.’ She looked at the gold coin. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’
    She left the parlour, asking if they wanted refreshments, but Corbett refused. A vague suspicion stirred in his mind.
    ‘What do you make of this?’ Ranulf asked once Roheisia had gone.
    ‘I don’t know. But let’s see what our lady of the night can find for us.’
    ‘We should go after her,’ Ranulf urged. ‘Search this place from garret to cellar.’
    Corbett shook his head.
    ‘First, Ranulf, that would only alienate our good ladies. Secondly, Françoise has been missing for a month. I am sure the good Roheisia has already been through her documents and papers. She knows there is something which might interest us and she’s gone to find it. If we start stamping our feet and rattling our swords, I don’t think it will be handed over to us.’
    Roheisia came back, a sheaf of greasy-edged parchment in her hand. She thrust these at Corbett but held on to them until he handed across the gold piece. By the light of a candle he quickly went through the different pieces of parchment. One or two were items of purchase, one a letter, enigmatic and curt: Corbett suspected it was a message to one of her clients, or at least a draft that had never been sent. He glanced up. Roheisia was watching him closely.
    ‘Don’t play games, mistress,’ he warned her. ‘I don’t pay gold for an empty cup. You knew all this when we first arrived!’
    ‘Oh, there’s something there,’ she admitted. ‘Not much.’
    Corbett continued searching through the papers and then he found it. A draft of a letter to Cecilia Hocklewell at the Chambard tavern in Dieppe . Corbett felt slightly guilty. Françoise had written it as if she were Cecilia’s lover rather than her friend, vowing how she missed her, that she would return. He noticed the phrase, ‘when your glory has been restored’. He glanced at Roheisia.
    ‘ " When your glory has been restored", Mistress Roheisia? What on earth does that mean?’
    She stared blankly back. Corbett rolled up