[Mediaeval Mystery 06] - Cast the First Stone

by C. B. Hanley

  ‘Don’t you remember? The sheriff is in dispute with the lord earl about his taxes. The last letter my lord sent to him was quite sharp, so he’d probably use this as an excuse to get back at him.’

  Sir Roger sat down heavily next to him. ‘Of course.’ He crossed himself. ‘A sad state of affairs that your fate would depend less on your innocence than on a quarrel between two powerful men.’

  It was the nearest he’d ever come to voicing even the slightest criticism of the earl, and Edwin looked at him in surprise. ‘You’re worried.’

  Those blue eyes met his own, and for one moment Edwin could see into the depth of the knight’s soul. ‘You …’ he began, and then tailed off.

  ‘Say it. Whatever you were going to say, say it.’ Sir Roger was now staring straight ahead.

  ‘You’ve lost your faith. After … after what happened in Sandwich, you’ve lost faith in the Lord’s mercy, and now you don’t know what to do because you thought the path in front of you was clear, and now it isn’t.’

  Sir Roger buried his head in his hands and said nothing for a few moments. Then he nodded and spoke, his face still hidden. ‘You have it.’

  Edwin wondered if the situation he was in could possibly get more bizarre, as he – the man about to face a charge of murder – tried to comfort his friend, the man who was supposedly in control of the castle, the village and everyone in it.

  Eventually Sir Roger raised his head. His face was white and drawn, but it was dry. ‘I must go,’ he said. He gave an approximation of a laugh. ‘I have a funeral to go to. Father Ignatius is burying Ivo this morning, and someone should be there.’ He stood and squared his shoulders. ‘We’ll meet again at the court, where I hope … I hope very much that I will not lose someone else who is dear to me.’

  Edwin knew that he wasn’t talking about Ivo, and he nodded. ‘All I can do is speak the truth, and trust it is enough.’ He hesitated a moment. ‘Shall we … I mean, would you like to pray together for a few moments?’

  Sir Roger was still facing away, so Edwin couldn’t see his expression. ‘No. No, not now.’

  He walked out, shutting the door behind him.

  It seemed only moments before a party of guards came to escort Edwin down to the village, but in reality it must have been at least a couple of hours, as he vaguely recalled eating something at dinner time, which would have made it late morning.

  He felt all eyes upon him as he came to the village green. The jury sat to one side, the benches full; Aelfrith had been summoned along with others who lived out of the village. The rest were in the usual huddle, except for Alys, Cecily and old Agnes, who stood apart. Edwin had always liked Agnes, and now he felt nothing but warmth and gratitude that she should go against the rest of the village on his behalf. Of course, given that she was both the priest’s housekeeper and the smith’s mother she would never be in any real danger, but there were ways of being unpopular in the village that didn’t necessarily involve physical violence.

  Proceedings began. The reeve, still looking uncomfortable, voiced the same accusation as had been made the previous evening – that Edwin had murdered the bailiff out of jealousy, and that, to support the accusation, a witness had seen him threatening Ivo on the day before his death.

  Edwin had seen Jack Jackson among the group of guards marching down from the castle, and he expected him to step forward, but instead Sir Roger called Everard, the senior man in the garrison.

  ‘You have heard these accusations, and specifically that Edwin threatened Ivo in the inner ward while you were there. What have you to say?’

  The sergeant-at-arms stared straight ahead. ‘Didn’t see any of that, sir. Edwin came to sit down next to him while he was eating, and I called my men away because it was time for drill. I did look over that way some time later, but Edwin was gone and Ivo was sitting there finishing his dinner by himself, no harm done, certainly no violence.’

  Edwin breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps this was all going to blow over. But now Everard was being dismissed and Jack was standing forward. Edwin suddenly – vividly – recalled his father, Old Jack, being hauled up before the manor court some years ago for assaulting a neighbour while he was drunk. He’d had to pay a hefty fine, imposed by Edwin’s father. But that had been entirely justified: surely Jack couldn’t hold a grudge after all this time?

  Sir Roger asked him what had happened up in the castle that day, and he was keen to speak. ‘I was closer, sir, and I saw it all. Edwin came and sat next to him, spoke to him, made him stop eating. Then they had an argument. I couldn’t hardly believe it at first, not Edwin – all his life he’s been timid as a mouse. But there he was, telling Master Ivo he didn’t know how to do his job properly.’

  There was a murmur of surprise around the court.

  Jack was appreciating having an audience, and now he started to play up to it. ‘I know – who would have thought it? But there’s more.’

  The onlookers were now openly encouraging.

  ‘So Master Ivo, he says he’s the bailiff and everyone should recognise his authority. And that’s right, to my mind.’ He looked around for the expected nods of assent, and was encouraged to continue. ‘And he says “how dare you” to Edwin.’

  Edwin wasn’t quite sure that was the order in which things had actually been said, but he didn’t think that interrupting was a good idea. Better to listen to it all and then refute what he could, logically.

  The man was in full swing now. ‘But you haven’t heard the worst bit yet.’ He paused for effect. ‘So, we had to get up and move off, but I was still close enough to see and hear it. “I don’t want my father’s work destroyed”, he says. Then Ivo said something – didn’t quite catch that bit – and Edwin stands up, leans over him, and threatens him with a knife!’

  There was uproar. No, no, no, that wasn’t what happened! Edwin really had to say something now, and he tried to interject, but he couldn’t make himself heard over the hubbub.

  Jack was bellowing over the noise. ‘“Don’t you ever say anything about my father again”, he says, while he’s waving the knife in his face, and if that’s not a threat, I don’t know what is.’

  The racket continued. Sir Roger appealed for calm. He didn’t get it, so he stood up and signalled to the line of guards. They drew their swords, which shut everybody up with immediate effect.

  The knight kept his voice level. ‘But you did not see any violence? Ivo was whole and well when Edwin left him?’

  ‘Yes, sir. But of course, he’s hardly going to kill him right there in front of everyone, is he? That’s why he waited until after dark when nobody was around.’

  This time the shouts – of surprise, of anger, against him or in his support, Edwin didn’t know – could not be quelled until the guards banged their swords down repeatedly on to their shields.

  ‘I will have silence!’ Sir Roger cast an angry glance around the court, then addressed the man. ‘You may go.’ He turned to the jury. ‘You will remember his words about what he actually saw and heard; you will ignore his last accusation.’

  Some of the men turned to each other and murmured. But Edwin knew that they wouldn’t forget it: the damage was done.

  Sir Roger was now speaking to the whole assembly. ‘We are here to determine exactly what everyone saw and heard, what they know to be true and what they are prepared to swear on the holy bible, at the peril of their souls.’ He spoke these last words with such force that several of those present crossed themselves. ‘I should not have asked something as open as “What happened?” – from now on I will ask direct questions and those called will answer those questions, and those questions only. Is that clear?’

  He spoke with the voice of authority and rank. Only Edwin knew how brittle it was, how close Sir Roger was to cracking; it was enough for everyone else, there were no dissenters, and it was a more subdued crowd that waited to hear how Edwin would respond.

  Sir Roger sat down again and composed himself. ‘Edwin. After the m
anor court, did you walk up to the castle and speak with Ivo, sitting down next to him at the table?’

  Edwin knew that he had to set a good example if they were to avoid the court descending into chaos, so he merely said ‘Yes, Sir Roger.’ He expected that he would now be asked to recount the conversation, but it seemed this was not to be.

  ‘You told him he didn’t know how to do his job?’

  ‘Well, maybe not in so many words, but –’

  He was halted by Sir Roger’s raised hand. ‘Your exact words.’

  This was not going to sound well, given the lack of context. But he couldn’t lie. Hopefully he would be able to explain it properly later when everyone had calmed down.

  Edwin exhaled and prepared himself. ‘He said, “My lord’s interest is best served by everyone recognising his authority in the person of his bailiff”, and I said, “Not if the bailiff isn’t doing his job properly.”’ He winced as he realised how that must sound, especially to those who were hostile anyway.

  Sir Roger looked surprised, even pained, but they were in front of everyone and he was speaking in the earl’s name, so he had to continue.

  ‘Did you threaten him with a knife?’

  This was something Edwin could answer with complete honesty. ‘No, Sir Roger.’

  The knight looked round at the man who had previously given evidence. ‘You did not? You’re sure?’

  ‘Yes. Ivo banged his hand on the table, his knife fell off it, and I picked it up to give it back to him.’

  Sir Roger spoke loudly enough to make sure all could hear. ‘Very well. I can see how that gesture could have been misinterpreted by someone who was not close enough to see properly and who had his mind on his other duties.’ He sounded easier as he continued. ‘And that was the end of the conversation?’ He was almost turning away.

  But Edwin was on oath. Oh dear. ‘Not quite, Sir Roger. I said I knew that the estate had been run well these thirty years, and I didn’t want Father’s life’s work destroyed. And he replied “Oh, your father. Yes, I hear about your sainted father wherever I go. It seems to me that he was lucky to retain his position if he was as lax as he seems to have been.”’

  There was shock around the court, and an instant buzz of voices. Edwin could make out some that might be sympathetic to him – Father having been popular and well-liked, and the villagers not wanting to hear him spoken of thus – and others that were darker. Any man, on hearing his father insulted so, might be tempted to commit an act of violence.

  Sir Roger sounded like the words were being dragged from him. ‘And your reply to this was?’

  Edwin looked at the ground and back up again. ‘I said “We will speak more, but let me tell you, if you ever insult my father again …” and I walked off.’

  ‘You walked off.’

  ‘Yes, Sir Roger.’

  There was conversation around the court, but Sir Roger seemed glad it was no worse. Edwin’s eyes sought Alys. She tried to smile, but she was too worried. Dear Lord, what had he dragged her into?

  But the worst seemed to be over. Sir Roger had no more questions for him and was conferring with Father Ignatius. ‘And now, to the night of Ivo’s death. We heard at the previous court of the discovery of the body, so we will concentrate now on Edwin and his movements.’

  Edwin tried to unclench his fingers. This would be fine. As his wife, Alys would not be able to testify on his behalf that he had been at home with her, but there were other witnesses who knew that he had had to be summoned from his cottage. Indeed, this was surely what was going to be discussed next; Sir Roger resumed his seat and called out, ‘Call the boy Hal, son of Alwin.’

  Edwin watched as Hal reluctantly dragged himself forward to stand in the middle of the space. All his usual cheekiness and confidence had drained away; he was an overawed child in front of a crowd of adults and a man of higher rank than any he had ever encountered.

  Father Ignatius stepped forward with the bible. Hal’s hand was shaking as he placed it on the book.

  The priest tried to make his tone kind as he told the boy to swear an oath that he would speak the truth, but Edwin could see that it didn’t help his nervousness. But he would be fine, surely? For what could he have seen and heard that would be of any interest?

  Sir Roger looked conflicted. Edwin knew that his instinct would be to comfort a frightened boy, but he also knew that the court was becoming dangerously rowdy and that the knight would be concerned above all that discipline should be maintained and authority upheld. And, moreover, he had to keep his own mask of calm and neutrality, despite his devastating loss of faith. Thus he spoke in a stern tone.

  ‘Now, Hal. You understand what I said? I will ask you questions and you will answer them truthfully, and without adding anything?’

  Hal licked his lips and nodded, too overcome to say anything.

  ‘When the body of Ivo was found, you were sent to fetch Edwin. Is that correct?’

  Hal nodded.

  ‘You must speak, Hal, you must say it out loud for the jury to hear.’

  Hal took a deep breath. ‘Yes, sir. I mean my lord.’

  ‘“Sir” will be fine. Good. And you ran to Edwin’s house, you ran as fast as you could, and you knocked on the door?’

  The very ordinariness of the question seemed to reassure Hal. ‘Yes sir. And then –’

  Sir Roger held up his hand. ‘Ah! Don’t add anything, remember?’

  ‘Yes sir, sorry sir.’ Hal was screwing his hat up in his hands so tightly that Edwin didn’t think it would survive. Surely they could just get this very simple testimony out the way and let the boy sit down again?

  ‘Who opened the door?’

  ‘Edwin did, sir.’

  ‘And what did you say? Mind – I want your exact words, not a paraphrase.’

  Hal clearly had no idea what that last word meant, but he had understood the first part. He closed his eyes as if reliving the event. ‘He opened the door sir, and he said “Hal? What’s the matter?” And I said, “It’s Ivo, Master Edwin.”’

  ‘Good. You’re doing well. What did Edwin say then?’

  Hal still had his eyes closed. ‘He said, “What’s he done now?” And then he said “Never mind, just give me a moment to put something on.” And then he went back in, and he came back doing up his belt, and he said –’

  He stopped dead.

  Sir Roger prompted him. ‘And then?’

  With an agonised expression, Hal looked from the knight to Edwin and back again, and Edwin recalled once more what he’d muttered under his breath as he stepped out the door – words it now appeared that Hal had heard. He was already feeling cold, but now his body turned to ice.

  Sir Roger, and some of the onlookers who were quicker on the uptake, had realised that there was something Hal didn’t want to say. The knight gave Edwin a pained look that was both apology and a statement that he had to carry on now that he’d started. Then he spoke sternly to the boy. ‘Hal. You swore on the bible, remember? You must tell us what you were about to say.’

  Hal was still tongue-tied, his pleading face turned to Edwin. Edwin’s heart went out to him and his loyalty. But this was his problem, not Hal’s, and he couldn’t let the boy imperil his immortal soul by telling a lie on oath. ‘It’s all right, Hal. You can tell them.’

  The crowd had now all picked up on the situation and were leaning forward, straining to hear. ‘If you please, my lord.’ It was hardly more than a whisper. He paused before beginning again, staring straight at Sir Roger so as not to have to meet Edwin’s eye. ‘If you please, sir, Edwin said “One of these days I’m going to kill that man.”’

  Chapter Ten

  Edwin sat on the bed in the household chamber, his knees drawn up, and stared at the walls. The thought struck him – but still did not sink in, as it just seemed too fantastical – that it might be the last indoor room he would ever see.

  He still couldn’t process it properly. The jury, men who had known him his whole life, had
found him guilty of Ivo’s murder. They must know that he hadn’t done it, so how had they been persuaded? Had some disease of the mind infected the entire village?

  It didn’t matter. What did matter was that the sheriff would be here within two days, and that he would find both Edwin and Denis – for the jury had not rescinded their verdict on him – ready for him to take away. Would they even be transported as far as York? Would the sheriff bother to investigate the circumstances, or would he just accept what he was told? Maybe he’d simply have them taken out and hanged right here.

  Edwin had seen hangings. He remembered the mass execution of the outlaws earlier in the year, and the boy who had called out for his mother before taking a long time to die. He remembered the more recent hanging in Sandwich, where he’d had to pull the rope himself. At least that one had been quick. What would happen to him, he wondered. Would he be granted the mercy of a swift break of his neck? Or would he strangle slowly, the life being choked out of him as he lost control of …

  He just about made it to the slops bucket in the corner before he vomited up the contents of his stomach.

  He had no thought for anything until he could stop heaving, but then the weight settled on him of all the people who would miss him. Alys, of course – what had he done to her, asking her to marry him and uprooting her from her home only for this to happen? She would be a widow of sixteen, and one who was unpopular in the village, at that. Perhaps they would even drive her out. His friend Martin would arrive back with the earl in time for Christmas, to find Edwin gone. Lord, but he wished Martin were here. All these months Edwin had been trying to stop him finding a physical, combative solution to everything, so that he – with his supposed superior mind – could think things out, but where had that got him? He would give anything, right now, to have the towering, armed figure standing between him and those who would take him to the noose.

  Would the earl even care? Edwin was under no illusions that his lord had the slightest personal interest in him, but he had proven his worth over and over again, and would like to think that the earl might summon up some kind of emotion before he moved on to finding a replacement.