The Witching Pool: A Justice Belstrang Mystery (Justice Belstrang Mysteries Book 2) Read online

  ‘What’s been said, Master Edward?’ I enquired. ‘Come, I’ve given you hospitality and brought you home. Will you not return the favour by satisfying an old man’s curiosity?’

  He hesitated, then: ‘I’m loth to speak of it, sir – I mean, after what’s happened. But some say this was a place where witches held their Sabbaths - midnight revels, with their familiars and such.’ The man almost shuddered. ‘Can we not leave now? It will grow dark soon, and my wife will wonder what’s become of me.’

  His unease was such, I could only indicate my assent. I recalled now that I might have had heard such tales myself - and hence I could not resist posing a question which occurred.

  ‘Your mother, Agnes… did she ever come here?’

  At that, the other was aghast. ‘In God’s name, Master Justice, do you too believe she’s a witch?’ He cried. ‘That she could do the wickedness she’s accused of – you of all people? If that’s so, why do you-’

  But when I held up a hand, he stopped himself.

  ‘I’m very much in doubt of it,’ I said. ‘But you must expect such questions to be asked of your mother, when she comes to trial. I merely wish to gather facts.’

  I sighed, and could not help experiencing a shiver; then, the air was growing cool. ‘But I agree that we’ve tarried here long enough,’ I continued. ‘Shall we retrace our steps?’

  Mason showed his relief and turned away – whereupon a noise from somewhere across the pool made us both stop in our tracks. It was a rustling, as of branches being disturbed. I swung round, peering into the trees, but could see nothing – until a sound rang out that startled even me.

  It was laughter: a short, barking laugh, eerie enough yet unmistakably human. Swiftly I looked round at Mason, expecting him to be terrified – but instead, the man had relaxed.

  ‘That’s Berritt,’ he said. And when I raised my brows: ‘Old Ned Berritt… been a part of these woods since I was a boy. Does a bit of rat-catching, fishes for eels in the river, and not averse to poaching. Likely he’s been watching us, ever since we got here.’

  He gestured towards the path. ‘Now will you come to my house sir, and take a mug of ale before you ride home?’

  ***

  A short while later I was seated by the fire in Mason’s small cottage nursing a mug of farm-brewed ale, somewhat embarrassed by the reproach the man was receiving from his young wife. Isabel Mason was small and plump, her face somewhat ruddy, its hue heightened by indignation. To that she had already given some vent, standing over her husband who sat in an old oaken settle opposite me.

  ‘You said you’d walk into Worcester, see Mother Agnes and get yourself home soon after noon,’ Mistress Mason chided. ‘Yet now I hear you never even saw her - so how do we know what condition she’s in? Instead you went a-bothering Master Belstrang, to no purpose I can see…’ She stopped herself, took a breath and faced me.

  ‘I ask pardon, Master Justice, for I mean no slight to you. I’ve heard how you’ve been kind to folk, like you’ve been good to Edward today. Only the matter is…’ She glanced at her husband. ‘The matter is, sir, I’ve been at my wit’s end since Agnes was taken, and that’s the plain truth. Scarce an hour goes by when I don’t expect more bad news – even that we could lose our home! He knows it as well as I do.’

  She indicated Edward, who sat so dejectedly, had matters been different I might have felt inclined to laugh. But this family’s case being so grave, I chose the moment to speak.

  ‘I know that Giles Cobbett is your landlord, Mistress,’ I said. ‘But do you not hold a secure lease on this land? I speak now as a man of the law. If the lease is for a fixed term then it would be difficult for him to evict you for any reason, so long as the rent is paid. On the other hand, if it’s a Tenancy at Will, he has the right.’

  I turned to Mason and asked him if he was the copyholder.

  ‘My father held the lease, sir,’ came the reply. ‘On his death it passed to my mother, by his will. But if she’s convicted for murder, I fear Sir Giles will have grounds… might it be so?’

  I pondered the matter. ‘If there’s anything in the lease a lawyer might seize upon, then I suppose it might,’ I allowed, which caused both of them to draw breath. And though I had no wish to alarm them further, I thought it best to continue.

  ‘In truth, However, there are other factors you should consider,’ I told them. ‘For one, in the sad event that Agnes is convicted, I believe it would be most difficult for you to remain here. People’s feelings would be so hardened against you, I hesitate to think what might occur-’

  ‘You mean folk would come at us?’ Mistress Mason broke in. ‘With pitchforks and torches? God in heaven, Master, tell us it isn’t so! I’ve two children asleep up in the loft, and moreover-’

  She stopped herself again - and in a moment I understood. I looked at Mason and found his eyes upon me.

  ‘Moreover, there’s another child coming, sir, is what she would have said,’ he muttered. ‘Now you see our condition.’

  I gave a nod. Mistress Mason, for her part, said nothing further, but sat down heavily beside her husband. But if she was moved to tears, she would not allow them. She was a spirited young woman, who had won not only my sympathies but my respect too.

  And all at once I knew my course was clear, as I believe I had known since I spoke with Edward Mason that afternoon. As I now knew that I would not be riding to Powick in the morning with Doctor Boyd, to attend the inquest of Susanna Cobbett.

  ‘If I might venture an opinion, Mistress,’ I said, ‘your husband did right in coming to me, instead of going to the Guildhall. There’s little he could have done for his mother; he might even have been refused leave to see her. You are in a dangerous place, and what paths exist – if indeed there are such – are hidden from you. The Justice who will try Agnes at the Assizes is unknown to me; he may be of the sort who will take against her on sight. But if you’re willing, I will visit her in the morning and see how the land lies. Thereafter, if I believe there is a chance of acquittal, I will try to carry the business forward. Though I must forbear to raise your hopes. This is a delicate matter, for which-’

  But my speech was stilled, for at once Isabel Mason got up and bent to clasp my free hand in both of hers. With such precipitation, I might add, that I was hard pressed to avoid spilling the contents of my mug over my knees.

  ‘May the Lord bless you, Master Belstrang,’ she burst out. ‘For I expected help from no-one – let alone one who once sat as a magistrate! You’ve brought us hope – precious hope, in our darkest hour…’ She looked away. ‘But we cannot pay you, sir. It pains me to say it, but…’

  ‘Isabel!’

  Edward Mason spoke sharply. At last finding his voice, along with some of his self-worth, the man stood up, took his wife by the shoulders and eased her gently back to the settle. He was not angry: his concern had to do with her condition. As she sat down again, he gathered himself and turned to me.

  ‘Our blessings on you, Master Justice,’ he said. ‘Along with our heartfelt thanks, no matter what befalls us. Howsoever you advise us, it shall be done – this I swear.’

  ‘Well, you must know that I cannot make any promises,’ I replied. I was moved not only by the couple’s plight but by their faith in my powers, which I knew were somewhat slight. ‘But I will poke about, as folk say I do, and, well…’

  With an attempt at a smile I trailed off, drained my mug and rose to my feet. ‘I can only urge you not to lose hope,’ I ended, only too aware of how lame the words sounded.

  Thereafter I took my leave of them as dusk was falling, and was soon urging Leucippus to a canter, back towards Powick and thence home.

  An urge was upon me to help this family if I could. Yet quite soon a gloom stole over me, when I thought on the promise I had made for the morrow. Somehow, I had taken it upon myself to visit a woman accused of murder by witchcraft – one who, in the eyes of just about everyone from the Mayor down to the lowliest beggar, was in all
likelihood already adjudged guilty.

  This was a cloud, I realised, that would take some effort to shift.

  THREE

  The next morning was breezy, and somewhat advanced before I at last rode over the bridge and entered the city by the West Gate. For in truth, I had little appetite for the task ahead.

  Worcester was a-bustle, with people of every rank going their ways, a few of them recognising me as I walked Leucippus through the streets. Doing my best to seem of good cheer, I returned their salutations before dismounting and finding a horse-holder. I then made my way to the Guildhall on foot and spoke briefly to the porter. Once inside, I sought out Sergeant Lisle. By good fortune he was found, and after an exchange of greetings, away from the eyes and ears of clerks and others who passed by, I came to the matter in hand.

  ‘Agnes Mason?’ The tall sergeant, solid and heavy-bearded, never seemed to change with the passage of years. Eying me shrewdly, he raised an eyebrow. ‘Might I ask what brings you to see her, Master Justice?’ Lisle was another of those who used my former title as a mark of respect, which was not displeasing to me, coming from him.

  ‘I’m acquainted with the family,’ I said. ‘They’re much dismayed. I understand it was you who arrested the woman?’

  ‘I did. I was told to take men with me and expect resistance, but there was none. She came as meek as a lamb.’

  ‘Well now, what do you make of the business?’ I ventured. There was no need to waste words with Lisle, though he appeared to dislike the question.

  ‘I don’t quite take your meaning, sir.’

  ‘What I mean, sergeant, is do you believe she’s a witch?’ I returned. ‘That she would cause a young girl to lose her senses and drown herself? For I’ll admit I find it unlikely. What could she possibly gain by such a deed?’

  ‘Master Justice…’ the other gave a sigh and shook his head. ‘You know better than to ask such things of me. I’m not paid to have opinions, only to do my office.’

  ‘I ask not as a former Justice, but as a friend, if I might call you so,’ I told him. ‘We’ve known each other a long time, have we not? As I know you’re not a man to rush to judgement.’

  He hesitated, then looked aside briefly. ‘There are rumours aplenty,’ he murmured. ‘But I’ll not deny that the woman seems harmless enough to me. That’s as far as I’ll go.’

  I was curious now. ‘What kind of rumours would those be?’ I asked. But at that, a look came over the man’s face which I remembered well: one of plain obstinacy.

  ‘I’ve said that’s as far as I’ll go, sir,’ he answered. ‘Now, since you seem determined to see the prisoner, I’ll conduct you to the cellars.’

  He waited, whereupon I allowed him to lead the way. Down the stairs we walked, Lisle ahead with keys jangling at his belt. The floor below was gloomy, stone-flagged and lit by torches. There were few prisoners here, most being confined in the old chamber at the ruined castle. Hence the newest arrival had been given a room to herself, at the end of the passage where we stopped. Lisle fitted the key, opened the door and stood aside, allowing me to enter the tiny cell.

  It was so dark that I could see little, but at last I made out a pallet of straw and a pail in the corner. The place looked empty, until a slender figure materialised from the gloom. I stopped abruptly, whereupon the prisoner spoke – not in the cracked voice of an old crone, which I confess I had expected, but in one as soft and mellow as any I have heard.

  ‘You wish to see me, sir? Then you’re most welcome – how can I aid you?’

  ***

  We stood, she and I, for in the absence of even a stool we could do no other. Having assured Lisle I would call him if I were in need, the sergeant closed the door upon us. He would not lock it, he said, but a watch would be kept, though to my mind such action was needless. For my immediate impression of this woman was not only that she presented no danger to anyone, but rather the opposite. She was a healer, her son had said, the day before at Thirldon. She had thought I was come to ask advice about some remedy as, it emerged, one person who knew her had already done. Hence her surprise was great when she learned the reason for my visit, and almost at once she was asking after her family.

  ‘Edward’s a good man and a good father,’ Agnes Mason told me, after I had given her what reassurance I could. She stood erect and composed in her plain frock and apron, her hair long and unbound. ‘But he’s not much of a farmer. You’ll have seen they’re poor folk, sir. If the worst happens, they won’t be able to put up a fight against Giles Cobbett. Mayhap you don’t know him, but he’s a man who’ll have his way.’

  ‘I know him a little,’ I said.

  ‘For years he’s wanted our piece of land, for sowing he claims,’ she went on. ‘To add to Humphreys’ acres, so he can raise the rent – I speak of my neighbour, Abel Humphreys. Though both of them know the land’s good for little but pasture. We keep pigs, a cow and a few hens…’ she sighed. ‘But you won’t want to hear me complain, sir. I’m thankful, and sore amazed that you’ve come here. What shall I tell you? Ask what you will.’

  I was silent for a while, marshalling my thoughts. In truth, before meeting Agnes Mason I had been inclined to adopt my magistrate’s manner, and put her to question as I would have done anyone suspected of wrongdoing. But now I was in a quandary, for her very presence had dashed aside any prejudices I harboured. So: I will confess it now, and have done with it.

  Agnes was but a little short of sixty years old, her hair silvered with age. Yet she had the face, manner and shape of a woman of fifteen or even twenty years younger – and to my great surprise, I was sorely attracted to her.

  There, I have said it. And the mixture of feelings that arose, as she and I talked, threatened to become a trial in my mind. I thought briefly of my dead wife, and of Hester; I had barely looked at anyone of the other sex in ten years, and was content - or so I told myself. Yet here, in an odorous and gloomy cell, accused of a heinous crime, was a woman with cornflower-blue eyes that looked steadily into mine as she spoke, and disarmed me utterly.

  It was almost as if Robert Belstrang were bewitched.

  ‘Ask what I will, you say…’ I gave a cough, shook myself inwardly and tried to behave like the lawyer I had been. ‘Well, perhaps you should give me your version of events, any way you please. Touching especially, perhaps, on your feelings towards your landlord.’

  ‘There’s little to tell,’ Agnes said, after a pause. ‘I was taken by the sergeant, with nothing said beyond the charges, and brought here. As for feelings, I have few of any sort towards Cobbett. I rarely see him, and I see less of his daughters. He keeps them on a tight leash at Ebbfield, even the eldest… or so he did.’

  She lowered her gaze. ‘That poor maid, as pretty as they come. To take her own life – it’s a most hellish thing, which has caused me troubling thoughts.’ She looked up, then: ‘But one thing I swear, Master Belstrang: I’d no more have wished harm on that girl than I would on my own grandchildren.’

  Her voice rose as she delivered the last words, and by instinct I regarded her keenly. At such times, in the past, I always tried to read a suspect’s gaze, seeking any trace of deception. But there was none; I felt certain of it, and my heart turned at the injustice that was being meted out to this woman. I must have given myself away, for in the next moment a slight smile appeared.

  ‘You believe me,’ Agnes said quietly.

  ‘Well now, let’s suppose for the moment that I do,’ I replied. ‘Even so, your case is most difficult, Mistress… some might say hopeless.’ I drew a breath. ‘Perhaps you could venture an explanation as to why Cobbett has taken the terrible step that he has? To accuse you of bewitching his daughter to such a fearful extent that she became mad - mad enough to travel some distance from her home, and drown herself in a stagnant pond?’

  To that Agnes made no answer. Her smile faded, but she continued to look steadily at me.

  ‘Come now,’ I urged. ‘You must know that a man like Cobbett would
never do this unless he believes he has a case? Whatever else he is, he’s no fool. He’ll have to give evidence at trial, for one thing-’

  ‘You are mistaken, sir,’ Agnes interrupted. ‘He is a fool, in some ways – a rich man, but a man like any other. For he too believed I had powers I do not possess, though I’m loth to speak of it.’

  ‘But you must,’ I exclaimed, frowning. ‘Any scrap of evidence could be valuable, when you come to trial. You face the gallows. Whatever has passed between you and your landlord, you should…’

  I fell silent then, feeling something of a fool myself. Any man of a certain age who looked upon Agnes might imagine what had passed. Cobbett was a widower, and there was his humble tenant, a handsome widow… I was about to try and put the notion into words, as delicately as I could, when she spoke up somewhat sharply.

  ‘Oh no – not that.’

  She looked displeased. ‘He never came to me for the reason you’re thinking,’ she said, with a shake of her head. ‘There are some who believe I have unearthly powers, merely because I’m the seventh child of a seventh child. Or because I retain good health for my years, and have some skills passed from my mother in herb-lore and such.’ She drew breath. ‘But I’m not a cunning-woman sir, and never was.’

  ‘Well… in truth, Mistress, I incline to the same opinion,’ I said with some relief. ‘But see now, you must say more if I’m to help you. For I grow convinced that the charge Cobbett has brought is but a scheme. Perhaps, in his grief, he wishes to cast blame away from himself for his daughter’s demise. Or more likely he wishes to take possession of your land - you’ve as good as said so yourself.’

  I waited. For a moment she seemed to debate with herself, then: ‘I’m loth to break my word, when anyone asks me to swear secrecy,’ she said. ‘But it was a fool’s errand. I told him so, yet he wouldn’t listen. I speak of the day he caught me alone on the road - more than a year back, it was. He wished me to use my skills, he said, to find gold.’