Sir Hugh Corbett 11 - The Demon Archer

his kindness by tidying up the sanctuary and sweeping the floor. She promised herself that, tomorrow, she would return to her own house and bake some pies, recompense for this gruff priest’s kindness.
    ‘Do you think it will end soon?’ Her father broke into her thoughts.
    ‘Sir Hugh is a good man. He will execute the King’s justice without fear or favour. However, he keeps his thoughts to himself. I suspect, Father, there’s more to this man than you and I can ever imagine.’
    ‘And the other one?’ her father teased, trying to lighten his mood. ‘Who walks and looks like a cat? He is much smitten by you, Alicia.’
    ‘And I by him,’ she admitted.
    ‘Would you become handfast to such a man?’
    Alicia glanced away. ‘And what would you do then, Father?’ She tugged at the Franciscan robe he wore. ‘Become a priest?’
    ‘I don’t know what I will do,’ Verlian said. ‘But, when this is all over, I am finished with the Fitzalans!’
    ‘And now you want to marry me off?’
    ‘He’s an ambitious young man.’ Verlian grasped his daughter’s wrists. ‘Alicia, you don’t favour him because you have something to hide?’
    She blushed. ‘I have nothing to hide, Father. Ranulf-atte-Newgate is a personable young man. I have never met his like before. Oh, some of the forest people are kind but Lord Henry was really no different from the rest, except he had the power and the wealth to pursue his lust.’
    Alicia studied her father’s face. She loved him so deeply. He was gentle and kindly, being both mother and father to her. A man who loved the forest, he’d taught her everything she knew. Even as a little girl he would take her out to show her a badger’s sett or a fox’s lair, even climb a tree to study the thrush’s eggs. How could she tell him about her secret?
    ‘You wouldn’t become a nun?’ he teased. ‘Not one of Lady Madeleine’s ladies?’
    ‘I don’t know, Father.’
    Verlian’s heart sank. He’d meant it as a joke but she didn’t object as he had expected.
    ‘I have...’ She stumbled over her words. ‘I know what I do not want to be. I... I wish...’
    ‘Do whatever you want, child,’ he reassured her.
    Alicia was going to reply when there was a loud rapping on the front door. She made to rise but Verlian, embarrassed by his own fears, shrugged a shoulder and got to his feet.
    ‘Stay there, daughter. It will only be one of the forest folk looking for Brother Cosmas.’ Pulling the cowl over his head, Verlian limped towards the door and opened it. ‘Who’s there?’ he called.
    Outside a cold breeze had sprung up, setting the fallen leaves whirling like lost souls. Verlian smelt the fragrance of the forest; his anger curdled to be locked away from it. He walked out on to the porch. Behind him the door swung open. Verlian stepped forward, then realised he had made a mistake. No one was about and he was a target against the light behind him. He turned but, even as he did, the arrow caught him full in the heart.



Chapter 15

    Corbett contemplated the corpse laid out in its Franciscan robe. The coffin was no more than a wooden casket, probably an arrow box; thick, white bandages bulged over the dead man’s chest. These closed the wound, yet death was never presentable: two coins kept Verlian’s eyes closed but the face was sunken, unshaven, the mouth slightly open. The man’s hands lay across his chest clasping a wooden crucifix. Corbett heard the sound of weeping. He went and stood in the entrance in the rood screen of St Oswald’s-in-the-Trees from where he saw that Ranulf sat on the bench with Alicia.
    The young woman’s grief over her father’s murder was uncontrollable. Her eyes were red-rimmed with crying, her face pallid, her beautiful hair fell into tangles to her shoulders. She sat head forward, hands clasped in her lap. Ranulf had one hand on her shoulder, whispering to her, but she seemed not to listen to what he was saying. Corbett went over and knelt down.
    ‘Mistress Alicia, I am truly sorry. I am also sad that there’s nothing I can say, or do, to ease your terrible grief.’
    ‘My father was murdered.’ Alicia brought her head up. ‘He was a good man, clerk. It was so sudden,’ she gasped. ‘We were sitting in the priest’s kitchen. There was a knock on the door. Father went on to the porch, he called out then I heard him fall. I ran out but no one was there, nothing but the forest.’
    Corbett patted her gently on the hands before