WE REACHED THE SQUARE NOT long after the church bells rang for Matins. As soon as we arrived, the man who had guided me disappeared without a word.
I looked over the square. The bright moon revealed a field of empty tables and stalls, deserted by its trader swarms. All lay in uneasy silence, putting me in mind of the abandoned village where I had first met Bear. But here, at one end of the square, stood the palace of the Furnivals. It was huge and dark, save for two windows on the second level. There, some dim light glimmered.
Opposite, at the other side of the square, the great church rose up in all its all majesty, its stained-glass windows glowing faintly like the embers of a smoldering fire.
As I stood and listened, I heard the sound of chanting coming from the church. Priests were at their early prayers. Their blended voices rolled across the square like a rising and falling wind.
“Media vita in morte sumus:
Quem quaerimus adiutorem Nisi te domine?
Qui pro peccatis nostris juste irasceris.
Sancte Deus…”
I made the sign of the cross over my heart, imploring Saint Giles to guide and help me as he had done before. Then I turned to the palace where Bear was being held.
Even as I wondered if he was alive, I spied some movement by the central doors at the lower level.
Shielding myself behind some deserted stalls and tables, I made my way closer to the palace. When I peeked out, I saw two guards standing by the main doors. One of the men was leaning back. His arms were folded over his chest, his head bent down. He gave the impression of being asleep. The other guard was pacing restlessly.
I crept closer and studied the building. It was quite clear that there would be no getting past the main-door guards. How then could I possibly find a way inside? Then I recalled seeing John Aycliffe on the balcony. Perhaps the second level was not so well guarded.
The problem was to get there.
I moved along the square so I could examine the far side of the palace building. There, other buildings crowded in. And in the moonlight, what I discovered was that between the palace and the next building there existed only a slight separation. It was hardly more than a crevice, not big enough for a man to squeeze into.
But I was still a boy.
After waiting until the restless guard moved as far away as he was likely to go, I darted forward and squeezed into the breach I’d found. It was so narrow I went in sideways.
It was too dark to see much. But I could feel around. The palace walls were jagged stone. The wall opposite was made of some rough clay or plaster.
I put down Bear’s sack. If I returned I could retrieve it. If I didn’t return, it wouldn’t matter.
Barely able to turn about—I was like a kernel of wheat between two stones—I pressed my hands against the opposing walls. Using my fingertips to grasp small edges and bumps, I began to move slowly up. When high enough off the ground, I lifted my legs and pushed my feet against the walls so as to gain even more purchase. Straining every bit of the way, I could climb the walls like a spider.
Exactly how long it took me to reach the balcony, I don’t know. It was higher than the roof of the Stromford church. Even when I reached the level of the balcony, I was not where I needed to be. The balcony jutted out beyond the building’s front wall, whereas I was lodged against the side wall.
Pushing my back hard against the palace stone, while my feet pressed against the clay wall, I managed to turn about. Now I was able to wedge myself securely in place even as I freed my hands.
Just beneath the balcony, a stone carving of a lion, its jagged mouth agape, protruded. By stretching one arm to the utmost, I was able to reach the beast’s lower jaw. Grasping it firmly, I released the pressure of my body from the walls.
I swung out, holding to the lion’s mouth with one hand, legs dangling high above the ground and the guards below. With my other hand I stretched up and clutched the balcony itself. Now I was clinging to the balcony with one hand. I moved the other hand up so that now I dangled with two hands. Even as I swung my feet in to gain some purchase, I hauled myself up, pulling and pulling again until I had finally hoisted myself over the balcony railing. To my great relief, no one was there. As far as I could tell, the guards below hadn’t seen me.
Legs shaking from my effort, I stood on the balcony and gathered my breath. Not daring to waste any time, I hurriedly crept inside through an open balcony door. In so doing, I entered a dim and narrow hall.
I neither heard nor saw anything to cause alarm. Only at the farthest end was there some feeble light.
I looked about. The area into which I’d come was nothing more than a shallow entryway. I edged forward, pausing to notice doors on either side of the little hall. I set my ear to one of them. When I heard nothing, I pushed it in.
In the faint moonlight that came through a high small window, I saw only flags on wooden poles.
I turned to the other door, listened, then pushed it open, too. Along one wall was a rack of glaives. Another wall bore broadswords. A third held some daggers.
I took up one of the daggers, then withdrew, shutting the door behind me.
I now moved toward the end of the entry hall, leaned forward to peer in—and gasped.