Tutus est. It is safe. But what did it mean? Perhaps he was writing about Eoferwic, but why then didn’t he mention the city by name, and in any case how could he be so sure that it was safe?
The priest sighed deeply as he turned again, startling me. His face was pressed against the mattress, his grey hair hanging limp across his eyes. His body lay contorted like a hunchback’s as he mumbled some words in English, his brow creased as if he were deep in concentration. Then he settled again, his breathing slow and even as before.
I kept as still as I could, watching him until I was satisfied that he was indeed asleep. But there was no advantage to be had in staying here any longer. I had what I wanted, even if I didn’t yet understand it.
I rolled the vellum back into a scroll, tying it in the same way as it had been before, or as close to it as I could manage, then I replaced it as I had found it. An owl began to hoot outside and I took that as my sign to leave. I remembered ?lfwold’s pack lying on the floor and took care to step around it.
At the door I paused, checking that I hadn’t left anything behind that might later betray that I had been here. Then, shutting it slowly behind me, I made my way across the landing, back to my room.
Twenty-seven
I AWOKE LATE the next morning – later than I had done in a long while, in fact, for when I opened the shutters, the morning light spilt in and I saw that the sun was already high. I dressed as quickly as I could, tugging my tunic on over my shirt before pulling on my braies and heading down to the hall.
The others were gathered around the table, and they greeted me as I made my way over to them. More food had been brought to us: small loaves of bread and cheeses; as well as eels, salted and dried, perhaps caught from the river by the nuns themselves. It was a generous provision for guests, particularly since during these winter months they themselves would receive nothing until after the noon service.
I was about to sit down to eat, when I realised that the priest was not there.
‘Where’s ?lfwold?’ I asked, looking about to make sure I had not missed him. Unless he was still abed, though at this hour that seemed unlikely.
‘He went to speak with Eadgyth,’ Wace said. ‘She returned from Wincestre this morning, apparently. One of the nuns came to fetch him.’
At last she was here, then: the woman we had come all this way to see. ‘When was this?’
Wace shrugged and glanced at the others. ‘Not long ago,’ he said. ‘We heard you rousing a little while afterwards; we thought you might have heard him.’
‘And you didn’t think to go with him?’ After everything we had been saying the night before, I would have expected them to keep a closer watch over him, and especially over his business with Eadgyth. Tutus est, I remembered – whatever it was supposed to mean. Only she and Malet would know.
‘He said he wanted to speak with her alone,’ Eudo put in. ‘He wouldn’t allow any of us to go with him.’
‘Where has he gone?’ At least he had only just left.
Eudo and Wace shook their heads, and inwardly I cursed. They ought to have woken me earlier; I would have made sure, somehow, that the priest was not left on his own. But then I spotted Philippe glancing uncertainly at his two comrades.
‘You know, don’t you?’ I asked them, wondering at the same time what else they might have been withholding from me. ‘Where has he gone?’
They exchanged looks, as if they did not know whether or not to tell me, but Philippe must have seen that I was not about to be swayed, for he spoke up.
‘They’ll have gone to Eadgyth’s private chambers,’ he said.
‘And where are they?’
‘The up-floor in the dormitory …’ he began, but if he said anything else, I did not hear it as realisation dawned upon me. The three of them had been here before now. They must have known all along: about Eadgyth and who she was, who she had been. I felt suddenly foolish. Why hadn’t I seen this?
‘This isn’t the first time that Malet has sent you here, is it?’ I said. ‘When were you going to tell me this?’
‘We didn’t think it was important,’ Radulf said sullenly. I met his stare. Ever since we had met he’d been testing my patience, and I confess that I had even less liking for him at that moment.
I strode towards him; he rose from his stool to face me but before he could raise his hands to defend himself I had grabbed him by the collar of this tunic. I heard Philippe and Godefroi shout out in protest, heard the clatter of wood upon stone as they leapt up from their stools, but I ignored them.
‘What do you know of the priest’s business with Eadgyth?’ I demanded.
Radulf had gone white; no doubt he had not been expecting this. The blood was roaring through my veins now. Before me stood a trained warrior, a man of the sword, a knight of Normandy, and he was afraid.