The Witching Pool: A Justice Belstrang Mystery (Justice Belstrang Mysteries Book 2) Page 5

  The next day, I resolved, I would go again to the Witching Pool, unhindered by the presence of another. There I would hunt about - for what, I did not know. But the notion of doing nothing was too grim to contemplate.

  ***

  The following morning it rained heavily, yet I was undeterred. Having passed a restless evening and a night of broken sleep, over breakfast I told Hester of my plans. She looked somewhat askance, but passed no remark. Thankfully Childers had supped and was elsewhere, which spared me a warning about venturing out in the rain. But it proved to be only a May shower, which eased off as I rode down to Powick village.

  After crossing the bridge, I followed what was now a muddy track, and a short while later drew rein at the edge of the trees. There I dismounted, left Leucippus to graze and walked through wet grass until once again the wood closed about me. Birds squawked angrily at the intrusion and somewhere an animal scurried off. I soon reached the pond, where I halted, allowing the woodland sounds to flow about me.

  And quite soon, any unease I may have felt melted away. For this time the Witching Pool seemed utterly peaceful, even welcoming. Had I been a man of fanciful nature, I might have put it down to the fact that I bore neither fear nor ill-will. Whatever the cause, I found the glade tranquil and the water still, save where rainwater dripped from the trees. It might even be a place for contemplation, such as the ancients sought. And once again, I found it hard to believe that young Susanna Cobbett had come here to do what she did.

  The thought was uppermost in my mind, when the peace was shattered.

  From out of nowhere came the sound of something hissing towards me, prompting me to whirl round. I ducked, then let out a gasp: only inches from my head, an arrow was embedded in the trunk of a tree, its shaft quivering.

  ‘Who’s there?’ I shouted, reaching for my sword.

  There was no response. I stared into the trees, yet saw no-one - whereupon, to my dismay, came the same sound I had heard on my last visit: a bark of laughter. But this time it came not from across the pool; it was uncomfortably close. In alarm, I turned about to see a ragged figure emerge from behind a great oak - and the next moment recognition dawned.

  ‘By heaven, I’ve seen you!’ I exclaimed. ‘You were up before me, when I was magistrate.’

  ‘I was, Master Justice Belstrang… sir,’ came the growled reply. ‘You levied a fine on me, one I was hard-put to pay. Do you recall how much it was?’

  I was too stunned to answer. Instead I watched as the man came forward, stepping through the undergrowth as surely as only one accustomed to the wilder places can. His clothes were drab and patched, his hair roughly cropped, the beard tangled like briars. In his hand was a short bow, on his back a quiver of arrows fletched with hawks’ feathers. And at last the name I had heard from Edward Mason, and only the day before from Agnes, struck home: Edwin Berritt, known as Ned, poacher and occasional thief… how could I have forgotten?

  ‘You know me now?’ he demanded, drawing close enough to make me flinch. ‘Then, you sentenced so many poor bastards in your time, why should you?’

  I struggled to gather my wits. But when I raised a hand to point to the arrow in the tree, I was cut short.

  ‘Calm yourself, Master. If I’d wanted to split your skull, I could have done so with ease. Let’s call it a woodman’s welcome, shall we?’

  ‘How long were you observing me?’ I asked, drawing a breath.

  ‘Heard hooves, a while back. Like that other day you came… it’s a fine horse you have.’

  Our eyes met, and I was at pains to discern the man’s demeanour. I saw resentment, but no real anger… whereupon, as the memory arose, I barked a question.

  ‘Those birds hung about the trees. Are you the-’

  ‘What birds be they?’ Berritt broke in.

  I looked about, seeking the sights I had observed before: the dead crow and thrush. But even as I did so an opinion was forming… somewhat ruefully I faced the poacher again.

  ‘You removed them, did you?’

  ‘Don’t know what you mean, Master Justice.’ Berritt’s stare was as blank as any I have seen. Despite the differences in our rank and station the man was unafraid, even disdainful. I decided to abandon the topic.

  ‘Well… no matter.’ With a wry look, I tried to summon some shreds of authority. ‘Now that we meet, I would have words with you. I’ve talked with Edward Mason, and…’ I broke off, unwilling to speak of Agnes, but Berritt was ahead of me.

  ‘About his mother?’ He regarded me through narrowed eyes. ‘That’s why you come digging, is it? I heard you’d too much time on your hands, since you lost your place as magistrate. Do you mean to have a part in hanging the witch now?’

  ‘By heaven, I have no such intent,’ I retorted, with some heat. ‘I’m trying to help her, and moreover-’

  ‘Why, has she come into money?’

  ‘What? You insolent rogue…’ I drew myself up, hand on my sword. The man’s nerve was more than I could bear - but once again, I was wrong-footed.

  ‘Easy, sir - ‘twas a jest.’ There was mirth in Berritt’s eyes, though he was still alert. It struck me that, in the absence of witnesses, had I drawn sword I would likely have come off worst: the man wore a skinning knife at his belt that looked sharp as ice. With an effort, I reined in my temper.

  ‘See now… we appear to have made a poor start,’ I allowed. ‘Be assured that I mean no harm. I seek intelligence, nothing more… and as for the woman you call a witch, I believe she’s wrongly accused. Perhaps you’re unaware of the particulars, but were I to tell you…’

  I stopped myself. Berritt’s expression had changed, along with his manner. He let out a sigh, and looked aside.

  ‘There’s naught you need tell me,’ he said quietly. ‘I know what’s been done, and it chills me as it would any man.’ He faced me again. ‘You seek intelligence, you say? Well, mayhap I could aid you - but I’ll not set foot in any court of law.’

  ‘I understand,’ I said, after a moment. ‘And as I once fined you - though I’ll admit I do not recall the sum – I would pay you something now. Would a shilling serve? A day’s wage, for many.’

  I waited, half expecting him to demand more, but it seemed his mind moved elsewhere. ‘Agnes Mason is a good woman,’ he said. ‘There’s some hereabouts have reason to be grateful to her… she’d do no harm, not even to a cockroach.’

  He had relaxed somewhat, and my spirits lifted. If he had knowledge I could use, even a scrap of evidence…

  ‘I share your opinion,’ I said. ‘Though, along with her family, you and I seem to be the only ones. Can you tell me anything – something you’ve seen or heard?’

  ‘I might…’ Berritt glanced about warily, as if there were anyone near, when it was obvious there was not. I had thought him a fearless man; could I have been mistaken?

  ‘Whatever you tell me, none shall know from whose lips it came – I swear it,’ I told him. ‘But if you can help Agnes in her plight…’

  ‘You’ve seen her, then?’ the other broke in.

  ‘In her prison cell. She’s calm, but afraid… everything stands against her.’

  ‘I’d wager crowns on that, right enough,’ Berritt snorted. He seemed to be debating with himself.

  ‘The night Giles Cobbett’s daughter is said to have come here,’ I ventured. ‘Would you know anything of that?’

  He hesitated, and I found my gaze drifting to his bow, which was still strung. That was how he took rabbits, as no doubt he could take any other creature he chose. I must have betrayed my thoughts, for the man bent the weapon’s tip to the ground and unstrung it. Without a word, he then stepped to the tree with the arrow and, after some tugging, removed it.

  ‘I would,’ he said, turning to face me. ‘And don’t ask me why I was out that night. Yet hear this: I never poached on Mason’s acres. They’re poor folk.’

  ‘However, we’re on the edge of Humphreys’ land, are we not?’ I countered. ‘Have you any scruples on
his acres?’

  Berritt merely busied himself tucking the arrow away in its quiver. Whereupon I reached for my purse, opened it and drew out a silver shilling. ‘Take it,’ I said. ‘Whatever you tell me, it’s yours.’

  I proffered the coin, which was accepted in silence. Stowing it in a pocket, my informant spat on the ground, then spoke.

  ‘If that maid came here, I didn’t see her. I was some way off… but if she did, she wasn’t alone.’

  ‘Do you mean you saw someone?’

  ‘Not close… only shadows. But there were men – two or three. They carried no lights, the way they were crashing about. Then, there was moonlight enough to see by.’

  ‘But this is important,’ I blurted. ‘You must-’

  I caught my breath, for Berritt’s blank look was back. He would not testify, he had said, and though he could be compelled to it, I had agreed to keep his anonymity.

  ‘Have you any inkling who they might be?’ I asked instead. But for answer, he merely shook his head.

  ‘Then, did you hear their speech?’ I persisted. ‘Any noises… a splashing, for instance?’

  ‘I’ve said I was some way off,’ Berritt answered. ‘If there was, likely I wouldn’t hear it, for the trees muffle such sounds.’ He paused, then: ‘I disappoint you, but that’s all I can say. Save for one thing, if you’ll hear my opinion.’

  He eyed me, then spoke words which would change my perception of the entire matter.

  ‘If you seek to know how that maid came to drown herself, Master Justice, I’d not be poking around here, for the water keeps its secrets. I’d be searching for her swain – her beau, if you will. His name’s Howell Rhys, from the Welsh borders - and he was so smitten with love, he would swim across the river to meet her, night after night.’

  And as I stared, the poacher slung his bow across his back and turned to go. ‘Now I’ll bid you good-bye. Likely we’ll not meet again - for I’ll hear you long before you see me.’

  With that he was gone, melting into the trees and leaving no trace but the sound of rainwater dripping into the pool.

  SEVEN

  Back at Thirldon I took time to reflect on what had passed, seated in the garden after a good dinner. I could have been a hundred miles from the Witching Pool, with its secrets. For that matter, I could have been a hundred miles from the gloomy cell where Agnes would, in my mind at least, be sitting hunched on her rough pallet. Having spent the best part of an hour in grim contemplation, I heard footsteps on the gravel path: Hester and Childers were advancing upon me.

  ‘Master Justice, we would speak with you,’ my steward said. Whereupon, despite misgivings, I gestured them both to take vacant stools at the old table.

  ‘I’m troubled, sir – as are we both,’ he continued, wearing his gravest expression. ‘Touching upon the business of the witch… I mean Mistress Mason,’ he added. ‘If you’ll heed the advice of those who are most concerned for your safety…’

  ‘My safety?’ I echoed tartly. ‘Why, what kind of danger do you suppose I am in?’

  ‘Not bodily danger, perhaps,’ Hester said. Sitting upright, she faced me across the board. ‘But there is a threat to your standing. We thought you should be aware of it.’

  ‘Indeed?’ I frowned. ‘What are the gossips saying, then?’

  ‘It’s more than a matter of mere gossip, sir,’ Childers said. ‘There’s troubling talk in Worcester… Mistress Hester bore the brunt of it this morning.’

  I turned to her. ‘I didn’t know you were in the city today.’

  ‘Only at market. Where I was accosted by someone known to us both, if slightly: the wife of Justice Standish.’

  I stiffened, as she went on somewhat quickly: ‘She was harsh. She said you do yourself no good, taking up the case of the witch – those were her words. The town will turn against you, she said. Her husband is most displeased that you visit Mistress Mason, taking her food.’

  I remained silent.

  ‘I pray you, tell all of it,’ Childers urged, in some agitation. Whereupon Hester drew breath and added:

  ‘You remain in her cell longer than is fitting, it’s said, so that folk wonder what passes between you. They speak of the woman’s charms, which are of diverse nature.’

  ‘My God – do they think she’s bewitched me, or seduced me?’

  On a sudden I wanted to bang a fist down in anger. Instead I sat upright and, as I would do in my magistrate days, placed my hands flat. Childers looked wary, but Hester was calm.

  ‘It appears that some do,’ she replied.

  ‘And what of you?’ I eyed each of them in turn. ‘For if you have any suspicions about my motives, perhaps now is the time to voice them.’

  ‘Sir, I swear… you know better than that, I hope,’ Childers said. ‘But you must compass how the matter’s viewed by the common sort - even by your equals.’

  ‘Like Justice Standish, you mean?’ I snapped. ‘Well, by the Christ, it’s time I went to see him - lay the entire matter before that slippery old goat. I have new evidence…’

  I stopped, seeing how both of them stared. There was a cup of sack on the table, still unfinished, which I now took up. Having drained it, I set it down and gave a sigh. ‘Let me tell you what’s passed, since we last spoke,’ I said.

  And I told them what I had learned, from Agnes and from Ned Berritt. By the end of it, both were silent. Such silences, however, never lasted long where Childers was concerned.

  ‘This will do no good, sir… forgive me, but I must say it. You intrude on ground that’s best left to others.’

  ‘And who might they be?’ I retorted. ‘Do you think Giles Cobbett would probe any further? From what I see, his only desire is to put the matter to rest, along with his daughter.’

  ‘This young man… Susanna’s swain,’ Hester said. ‘Surely if Berritt knows of him, others do too?’

  ‘I’d wager on it,’ I answered. ‘If, by Berritt’s account, the fellow swam across the river to keep tryst with his beloved, he would likely have crossed Humphreys’ land. I mean to question him too – after I’ve spoken to Standish.’

  ‘Master Justice, no!’ In his agitation, as so often, Childers had forgotten his place. ‘It would be folly to go to Standish. You and he are known rivals. At the least, he would refuse to hear you - he thinks first of his own station, and such favours as he may garner from men of rank and power.’

  ‘Ay, men like Cobbett,’ I countered. ‘So, your counsel remains the same as before: I should step away from this whole affair and look to myself.’ He made no reply, whereupon I faced Hester. ‘Would that be your advice, too?’

  ‘If it were, would you heed it?’ She answered. ‘For it appears you’re resolved to play Sir Galahad and rescue this poor, wronged woman, or perish in the attempt. I speak only of the death of your reputation,’ she added. ‘But then, you seldom give much thought to that.’

  It was a pretty speech, and I confess I was chastened. More, once again I suspected Hester had divined more than she would say. After some thought, I nodded.

  ‘I’ll not go to Standish… not yet,’ I said. ‘I need more evidence. But I’ll go to Humphreys first thing tomorrow. I want to look that man in the eye, and see what moves him.’

  I summoned a defiant expression, but there was no further argument. Both wore looks of resignation, mingled with relief.

  ***

  There was a wind blowing up the Severn the following morning, somewhat damp for May and bringing clouds. Having passed once again through Powick village I rode southwards, but instead of veering off as before I continued along the lane to Abel Humphreys’ farm, which stretched to the river’s bank. Passing through fields, I slowed Leucippus to a walk. I had no wish to frighten the dozen or so cows, of our red-and-white Midlands breed, which grazed nearby. Soon the farm came in sight, at the end of the track.

  Riding into the yard, which was muddy and cluttered, I reined in and looked about. It was quiet, thought there was a labourer slouching in the
barn doorway observing me. I was about to hail him when the door of the farmhouse was thrown open, and the portly figure of Humphreys himself appeared.

  ‘Good morning, sir,’ he called. ‘Are you looking for me?’

  ‘I am.’ Leaning forward in the saddle, I nodded a greeting. ‘May I dismount?’

  ‘But of course!’ With an eagerness that took me by surprise, the man came forward. He wore a plain jerkin and heavy boots, though there was no dirt on them. ‘I knew you at once… you were at Ebbfield. I pray you, come inside and take refreshment.’

  Not having expected such a welcome, I hesitated before getting down. Breezily, Humphreys called to his man to take good care of Leucippus. Then we were walking to the house, my host speaking rapidly.

  ‘I confess I did not know you, on that sad morning – I beg your pardon. Cobbett set me aright later… as if I’d not heard of Justice Belstrang! It was kind of you and your servant to attend. Neighbours should stand together – and we’re neighbours, are we not? Give or take a few miles…’ he chuckled. ‘But let me bring you to my dear wife, who will be honoured to receive you - as are we both.’

  Still talking, or I might say chattering, the man ushered me inside. I found myself in a bare, sparsely-furnished parlour with the remains of breakfast on a table in the window. The farmers I knew were all up by sunrise, and out in the fields by now… I turned to Humphreys, to find him still smiling.

  ‘I pray you, sir, forgive the clutter… we are at present without a house-servant. My wife is obliged to attend to everything as best she can. You, er, you might have noticed her condition, when you last saw us…’

  ‘I did,’ I said. ‘And I have no wish to trouble her. I marked her grief at the burial.’ I paused, then ventured: ‘It affects people in different ways, does it not? Grief, I mean.’

  I was keen to note the other’s reaction. But nothing seemed to shift Humphreys’ grin; and naturally enough I recalled the smile he and Cobbett had exchanged, only two days earlier.