London - Edward Rutherfurd [125]
A second later, Osric, peeping down the chute, saw to his delight that his delivery had landed precisely on the overseer’s head.
From below there was a cry of terror, then, as Ralph put his hand up, of stupefaction, and then, as he saw and smelt what was on his hand, of utter horror. But by the time he looked up to the orifice above, its occupant had vanished.
With a scream of rage, the Norman raced round the building and up the staircase. He rushed to the garderobe, then ran from the hall to the chamber, the crypt, and even into the darkness of the strongroom. He found nothing. Bellowing in fury, he returned to the main hall, and was about to cast about further when a sudden and even more awful thought occurred to him.
In a few moments, the first of the masons would be entering the Tower to begin their work. They would see him covered with this smelly and unsightly mess. He would be the laughing stock of the Tower, of all London. With a cry of despair, therefore, he raced out of the building and, moments later, was glimpsed running into the morning mist towards the city.
Osric waited. His legs, pressed hard against the wall, held him securely in a sitting position some ten feet up in the shadows of the great fireplace. He heard Ralph’s cries and smiled. He heard the Norman’s disappearing feet.
Then, after a time, he came down.
A few days later, Dorkes, to her great surprise, found herself accosted by the cheerful armourer’s wife. At first, as they walked together towards Billingsgate, the girl was reserved and noncommittal, but gradually, as the older woman’s warmth and understanding conquered her, she admitted a little; and finally, without wanting to, she broke down.
Yet none of this was as surprising as what happened next.
Calmly and kindly the woman explained to her that she and her husband were Osric’s friends; she told her how Alfred had tried to buy Osric out of serfdom. “He may even succeed one day,” she added. Then she made her offer.
“We’ll look after your mother. Even Ralph doesn’t want a pair of useless hands. We’ll see she doesn’t starve, and if Ralph allows, we’ll take her in to live in our house.”
“But . . .” The girl hesitated. “If I have children and Osric . . .”
The woman completed the sentence for her. “If Osric dies?” She shrugged. “In so far as possible, we’ll look after them. I don’t think they’ll starve.” She paused. “You may get a better offer, of course. If so, you should take it. But it’s something at least.” She smiled. “My husband is a master armourer. He has some standing here.”
As they walked back, Dorkes was silent. She hardly knew what to think or what to say. But at last, being young, and weary, she replied: “Thank you. Yes.”
And so it was that a few nights later, Osric looked up in astonishment to see, by the soft glow of the brazier, a small, pale figure approaching him.
A year passed before Dorkes’s mother was taken into the armourer’s house. During this time the main floor of the Tower was completed and the huge oak rafters for its ceiling prepared.
Osric and Dorkes, having made what private space they could for themselves in the lodgings, lived together undisturbed. There was no marriage ceremony, no official sanctification of any kind, but in those conditions none was expected. The other inhabitants of the place referred to Dorkes simply as young Osric’s woman, and to him as her man. There was nothing more to say.
Except when, a short while after her mother had left, Dorkes quietly told Osric that she was going to have a child.
As the months continued to pass, it seemed to Alfred the armourer that he and his wife had done a fine thing and that, all in all, life in Norman London was tolerable enough.
Or would have been, but for a nagging problem that now began