'Ah yes, this mysterious vanishing thief who appears to have stolen . . . what was it? Ah yes, precisely nothing. It was you who raised the alarm, was it not, Master Raffaele? What exactly did you see?'
Raffe didn't hesitate. This much he had already rehearsed in his head. 'I saw someone coming round the back of the kitchen, but his face was in shadows. At first I thought him to be a servant, but as soon as he saw me, he ran for the gate, so I knew it was someone with no business at the manor. But it wasn't the girl, of that I'm certain, the figure was too tall and broad for that.'
And what made you think —' Osborn began, but he was interrupted by shrieks and bellows from the track outside.
Several of the manor's burlier servants tumbled through the open gate. They were dragging a man and a woman between them, but they were having difficulty holding the man, who was wriggling like an eel.
Raffe's heart gave a sickening lurch. Blessed Holy Virgin, let it not be Elena or the boatman.
But as the servants gave the man a violent shove forwards, Raffe saw that their prisoner was Athan who, despite his hands being lashed behind him, was putting up a furious struggle.
The two servants behind were having an easier time of it, for their captive was putting up no resistance at all. Cecily, Elena's mother, was shuffling meekly between them, her head hanging so low it seemed that if they released her she would instantly burrow into the earth and hide from the shame of it all. But neither Athan nor Cecily was responsible for the noise. All the shrieks and wails were emanating from a third figure, Athan's mother, Joan, who was scurrying behind the servants and taking every opportunity to slap, bite and kick the men holding her son.
Osborn gestured to the ground and the two prisoners were forced to their knees in the muck of the courtyard. It had the effect of immediately silencing everyone, even Joan, who stood fish-eyed behind the group, her fists pressed to her mouth, gazing at Osborn.
He took his time, pacing back and forth in front of Athan and Cecily, staring hard into their faces until both were visibly trembling. Finally he spoke.
'Elena has run away from the manor. As villeins I trust
I need not remind you how serious an offence that is in itself, but if that were not bad enough, she is a convicted murderer and under sentence of death.'
Osborn continued to pace back and forth between Athan and Cecily. As you well know, anyone, anyone who assists a convicted felon to escape puts themselves under the same sentence as the prisoner they try to aid. Nevertheless, last night someone was foolish enough to help a murderer escape justice.'
As if his words were a child's counting game, on the word justice Osborn halted abruptly in front of Athan and, without warning, seized a handful of the kneeling man's hair, yanking his head upwards. You, as the girl's lover, are the obvious suspect.'
Athan's normally rosy face was ashen. 'On my life I swear I didn't, my lord. Remember .. . remember it was us, me and my mam, who told you that Elena had done away with my son. What cause would I have to rescue her?'
Osborn pulled Athan's head back so far, Raffe thought he might snap the lad's neck. 'Don't tell me what I remember as if I'm in my dotage, boy. What I remember is that you told me nothing at all. It was your mother who did all the talking yesterday. You were besotted with this girl. I'll always love you, wasn't that what you swore —'
Joan could contain herself no longer. 'My lad thought that harlot as wicked as I did. It was his own dear bairn that evil woman murdered. Poor lad's beside himself with grief. It's as certain as a stone wall to a blind man that he'd not lift a finger to help that murdering slut. Besides,' she added with an angry lift of her chin, 'he was at home with me all night, never left the cottage till daybreak.'
Osborn snorted. You can't really imagine that I would take the word of a doting mother as proof of her son's whereabouts? You'd no doubt swear your son could spin straw into gold, if you thought it to his advantage.' But despite his words, Osborn let Athan's head drop.