She grimaced. 'All men are drunk at night, sir. I could smell wine, not ale, but he could walk well enough - and do me until I ached.'
Her mother tutted under her breath, but John felt that she was not particularly distressed about her daughter's activities.
'Did he take you by force, girl - or did you go willingly?'
Again the plump-faced girl looked covertly at her mother. 'I had little choice, sir. In turn, he has been through most of the girls in the laundry and the kitchen. One who refused got a thrashing from him and was turned out of her job - so her father thrashed her again for being a heavier burden on the family. Sir Hugo always gave us a penny or two afterwards, so we didn't mind all that much.'
She sniffed and wiped her running nose. 'After tournaments was the best. If he won, he was in a right good humour when he came home. He once gave a maid in the kitchen four whole pence on one of those nights!' she said with wistful wonderment.
De Wolfe felt that they were wandering from the point.
'Now, when he had finished with you, what happened? Was he quite well when you left him?'
According to Agnes, after he had had his way with her in the hay, Hugo had produced two pennies from his scrip and told her to go home.
'So you left him in the byre alone?'
'He was still lying in the hay, sir. He sounded sleepy.
I remember he yawned as I took the money. It was almost dark in there, but I could hear him yawn.'
'When you left, did you see anyone about the place?'
'Not a soul. I came straight home, up the road past the manor gate, where there were people talking in the bailey. But it was almost night, so I couldn't see very well.'
'She did come in then, sir,' cut in the mother. 'I was at the gate talking to my neighbour when she came. There was just a streak of light left in the western sky.'
John scratched his bristly face as he considered the sparse information. It had the ring of truth about it and, apart from anything else, he failed to see why Agnes should have murdered someone who occasionally gave her twopence.
'Do you own a knife, girl?' he asked.
She shook her head, almost grinning at the daft question. 'I've got a wooden spoon my father carved for me. I do my eating with that.'
'Broth and pottage is about all we have - there's little need for knives for the kind of food we have,' said the mother bitterly.
De Wolfe was running out of ideas now, but looked at the clothes that Agnes was wearing - a shapeless kirtle of brown wool, darned and ragged at the hem, with a soiled linen apron over the front. Her hair was plaited into a pigtail down her back and she wore no head-rail. The apron appeared free of anything that could be bloodstains.
'Have you changed your clothing since last night?, he asked.
The girl gave a hollow laugh. 'Changed! What into, sir? This is all I have - and this was my sister's before she died of the yellow ague.'
As she sat stroking the head of her infant brother, John saw a tear glisten in her eye, but whether it was for her dead sister or her own miserable lot, he could not decide. With some throat-clearing noises to cover his feelings, he prepared to leave, but as he moved towards the door he fumbled in his belt-pouch and produced two pennies.
Giving them to the sad-featured woman, he mumbled at her as he passed.
'She doesn't need to earn this in the same way. Get her something better to wear.'
'Sir Richard has returned to his own manor, Crowner.
We cannot presume too much upon his kindness, he has his own affairs to attend to.'
Something in Odo's voice caused a worm of unease to wriggle in John's mind, though he could not quite say why. He had been brought back to the manor house from Agnes's hovel by the bailiff and was now sitting at a table in the hall. He had a jug of ale and a platter of cold meats, cheese and bread before him. He would have to stay the night, as it was now too late for him get back to Exeter, and in spite of the obvious reluctance the Peverel family showed to his continued presence, the rigid rules of hospitality overrode any overt antagonism, though Ralph's attitude came perilously close. Gwyn and Thomas had been taken off to the kitchens behind the house to be fed, and John had been offered a mattress next to the hearth for the night.
'We regret we have no vacant chamber, Crowner,' continued Odo. 'But the ladies occupy one each upstairs, as I do, being unmarried. Ralph and his family have a separate dwelling at the back of the compound, which Joel also shares.'
John was indifferent to his own comfort, having spent half the nights of his adult life wrapped in his cloak in barns, hedges, forests or deserts across the known world. 'I need to speak to you all before I leave in the morning,' he said. 'May we begin now, and perhaps later you will see if the ladies will be so kind as to present themselves?'
Ralph scowled at him from the other side of the trestle, where the brothers and their steward were lined up. 'And are you intending to question each and every one of the villagers? There are well over a hundred serfs and freemen in Sampford, including the women.'
'They will be assembled at my inquest on Wednesday and can be questioned then,' replied de Wolfe patiently. 'Unless you consider that any particular person has knowledge that I should probe before I leave?'
There was silence at this and no suggestions were offered, so the coroner began questioning each of them in turn. For all the use it turned out to be, he might as well have saved his breath. Odo was courteous enough, but volunteered nothing, answering only direct questions.
'When did I last see Hugo? It was after our supper last night. Unlike many households, we take a substantial meal in the evening, rather than confine our main meal to the middle of the day. Afterwards, we went our various ways, I to my bed quite early. As I went, I saw Hugo leave the hall and that's the last I saw of him - alive.'
'Had he been drinking heavily?'
Odo smiled wryly. 'What is heavily, Crowner? Hugo was fond of ale, cider and wine, as most of us are. But he had no greater capacity than most men. Last night, he took no more, no less than usual.'
John could prise nothing more useful from the eldest brother and turned to Joel, thinking to leave the more recalcitrant Ralph until last. The younger man seemed to treat the serious matter of a murder investigation as a joke and grinned and rolled his eyes as he lolled on his bench while the coroner asked his questions.
'Have you anything to add to your brother's recollections?' he said sternly, privately wishing to give the jackanapes a clout around the ear to wipe the insolence from his face.
'Not a word, Crowner! Hugo was not one to be questioned about his private activities. As the youngest, I have suffered from his short temper since childhood. He allowed no liberties to be taken and many is the time that he gave me a buffet that knocked me on my arse!'
'That doesn't answer my question to you about last night,' snapped de Wolfe. 'What happened?'
Quite unperturbed by the rebuff, Joel replied that after the meal had been cleared away he had had several games of draughts with his sister-in-law Beatrice, then, as it grew dark, he went to his bed in the house at the back of the bailey. He saw Hugo leave the hall while he was playing, and that was the extent of his knowledge about the matter. He related all this with an airy nonchalance that made John want to shake him, but there was nothing of any use in his story.
When he turned to the remaining brother, sitting at the end of the table, he was met with stony hostility.
'Have you reconsidered your quite unreasonable decision to force us to wait two days before we can decently bury our poor brother?' barked Ralph. 'I consider it an insult to the memory of a fellow-knight and manor-lord and I will be reporting your malfeasance to the bishop!'
De Wolfe glared at him. 'The bishop? What in hell has the bishop to do with anything?' he snarled. 'Report what you like, sir, but at least do it to the correct authority. The proper quarter is the Chief Justiciar or the King's justices when they next come to Devon. All you'll get is confirmation of the leg
al procedure, but you are very welcome to present your complaint!' He thumped his fist on the table in annoyance. 'Now, sir, answer my questions. Is your recollection of the events of last evening similar to that of your kinsmen here?'
Grudgingly, Ralph agreed that Hugo had left the room soon after the meal, at which, as usual, he had drunk liberally. He had not been seen again that night and in the morning a search was mounted for him when his wife reported that he had not returned to their chamber all night. John pondered for a moment.
'Before the ladies are called, I will dispose of a more delicate matter. I assume from what I have been told by others that it was not unusual for him to take a wench somewhere for his pleasure?'
Joel grinned. 'Don't we all do the same at some time, Crowner? I have heard that you yourself are not above slaking your natural desires occasionally!'
'Mind your tongue, young man,' snapped de Wolfe. 'I am only concerned with Hugo Peverel's activities.'
Odo broke in with a rather weary voice. 'Whatever the rest of us do - and I am not a married man - Hugo had a strong appetite for life, be it food, drink, tourneying or women! Yes, he often took one of the servant girls for his satisfaction. They were not forced into it, but were often eager for both the experience and for the silver pennies.'
'My brother was no rapist, if that is what you're insinuating,' sneered Ralph. 'Yet this wash-house slut must surely have killed him! Perhaps she robbed him for the extra coins she saw in his purse.'
John, exasperated by the endless obduracy of the man, shook his dark head emphatically. 'There were still coins in his scrip - and the girl possessed no knife at all. Furthermore, her only raiment was free from even a single spot of blood.'
'None of those proclaim her innocent, Crowner. Who knows how many pennies were in his purse before she pillaged it?'
John sighed - nothing he could say would shift this man's stubborn notions, some of which he suspected had been planted by Richard de Revelle.
'Very well, then tell me if there is anyone in the manor - or without it - who had such a grudge against Hugo that they might have wished him dead.' Again there was silence, though each brother cast a somewhat furtive glance at the others. Finally Odo answered.
'Not in the manor, of course not! Hugo was the lord, everyone depended upon him for their very life. The dwelling over their head, the food they ate, their daily employment - all were at his behest. Why should anyone hate him?'
De Wolfe saw little logic in this reply, as the maxim 'The king is dead, long live the king' applied as much to manors as kingdoms. But he seized on one phrase.
'You said no one in the manor, Sir Odo. Does that imply that he may have had enemies outwith the village?'
Ralph broke in, jealous that his brother was hogging the discussion.
'Unlike me, Odo knows little of the tournament scene. Like our father before us, Hugo and I were devoted to that noble sport, where passions often run high. Competition and rivalry are rife, sometimes to the point of personal enmity.'
'We saw good evidence of that in Exeter last week,' drawled Joel mischievously. 'If that Frenchman de Charterai had been in this vicinity last night, I would withdraw my accusations against this slut Agnes.' John noticed that, although the Peverel family had been in England for well over a century, they still considered themselves to be Norman enough for a Frenchman to be a foreigner.
'There are a number of knights who have lost heavily to Hugo on the tourney field,' said Ralph. 'Some have lost sufficiently, both in pride and fortune, to wish him evil. But. I doubt they would come creeping into Sampford at night to stab him in the back!' There was nothing more to be learned from these autocratic brothers - John found that extracting information from them was like pulling teeth. Grudgingly, Odo agreed to have the ladies called down and a few moments later Avelina and Beatrice appeared, chaperoned by their shadowy tire-women. Of Ralph's wife there had been no sign, but the bailiff had told John earlier that she had been delivered of her third child only two weeks before and remained feverish and weak in the house behind the manor. The men rose and waited until the two ladies had been settled in their chairs, then took their places on the stools on either side, the brothers' body language displaying an aggressively protective attitude.
'Keep this short, Crowner,' growled Ralph, his handsome face set in a stony glare. 'Our ladies are distressed and fatigued by these unhappy events.'
In fact, they looked anything but distressed. Avelina sat upright, alert and almost combative, while the newly widowed Beatrice had donned her best blue silken kirtle and snowy wimple. She looked radiant as she glanced covertly at Joel, who was clearly entranced by her interest in him. John wondered how they had comported themselves when Hugo was alive, as surely this amorous relationship could not have blossomed in the last day. With an effort, he brought his mind back to the present.
'Mesdames, I will not detain you for long,' he said politely. Their full attention swung to him and both women felt a tug of interest as they surveyed this tall, muscular man with the face of a black hawk.
They knew of his reputation as a Crusader, an adventurer and a ladies' man. Awareness of his relationship with the Welsh tavern-keeper was not confined to Exeter, and with women's expert eyes they saw that his otherwise saturnine features were relieved by a pair of lips that betrayed his potentially passionate nature. Though Beatrice was too enamoured of Joel, Avelina was almost the same age as the coroner and could not resist a moment of imagination centred on the possibility of an affair with this man she had heard referred to as Black John.
She pulled herself together as she heard those same lips addressing her.
'Lady Avelina, can I trouble you to tell me anything you know of the sad demise of your stepson?' Her story was in essence the same as the others' and equally unhelpful. Hugo had still been in the hall when she retired to the solar upstairs.
'Father Patrick accompanied me as usual, to say with me my evening prayers for the soul of my late husband, taken from me so cruelly earlier this year,' she said.
'Then I went to my chamber where Florence prepared me for bed.'
She tipped her head towards the tall, silent girl who stood beside her chair.
'And you know of no one who might have hated Hugo sufficiently to want him dead?'
A flush rose slowly in her elegant cheeks. 'I will make no bones about it, Coroner. He was not a popular man. His villagers were afraid of his intemperate nature and his lusting after their younger womenfolk was deeply resented.'
There was a shuffling of feet among the brothers and Ralph opened his mouth to protest, then it snapped shut as he thought better of it. Considering this a good opportunity to try to prise more from this fractious family, John said, 'It has been suggested that Hugo may have made enemies among the tourneying fraternity persons such as Reginald de Charterai were mentioned.' At this, Avelina was transformed in an instant. From being a calm regal figure, she suddenly blazed into a furious temper. Her eyes widened and her face flushed as she half rose from her seat and slapped her hand imperiously on the edge of the table.
'Who dared make such a suggestion?' she demanded hotly. 'Sir Reginald is a man of honour and integrity. I was ashamed to hear of the way that Hugo insulted him in Exeter!'
John raised his hand placatingly as the Peverels scowled at their stepmother and muttered under their breath.
'I merely gave that as an example, madam. I apologise if it gave offence.'
The handsome dowager glared at him, her transient interest in him vanishing like frost in the sun. 'I am well acquainted with Reginald de Charterai and know him for a man of impeccable character.' She swept her gaze around her stepsons and decided to shock them with some news. 'In fact, some time ago I invited him to visit this manor so that we might renew that acquaintance. He should arrive tomorrow, as he is lodging in Tiverton.'
The object of the meeting was forgotten as the three brothers jumped to their feet in angry consternation, all vying with each other to speak the lo
udest.
'For the sake of Christ, Avelina, what were you thinking of?' yelled Odo, his usual restraint thrown to the winds. 'Hugo's body is barely cold and you're inviting his worst enemy to his home!'
'He is coming to pay attendance on me, not Hugo,' she said icily. 'My invitation to him was sent long before that distasteful episode in Exeter - and even longer before his death.'
'Then thank God he is dead, though I be cursed for saying it!' bellowed Ralph. 'For if he had been alive, he would have beaten your new paramour to within an inch of his life!'
Now flushed with anger, Avelina pointed a quivering finger at the speaker.
'How dare you insult me so, damn you! To call him my paramour! Had I my husband still, he would have thrashed you for your impertinence, though you were his son!'
Joel, usually whimsical in his sneering, was moved to be deadly serious for once. 'Lady, you must be out of your mind! To associate with a man who was Hugo's sworn adversary is bad enough - but to actually invite him here is folly beyond my understanding.'
The older woman remained quite unbowed under the unanimous condemnation and John, an admirer of mature womanhood, was greatly impressed by her imperious disdain of this masculine disapproval.
'Until my husband died - or was killed,' she continued with a hint of ambiguity that was not lost on John, 'this was my home, and I still consider it to be such. I am quite entitled to invite here whom I please. I am a widow and there can be no impropriety in my choice of a friend, be it male or female!'
'I am the lord now, madam,' hissed Ralph. 'As such, I choose who comes here and who does not! This de Charterai is persona non grata in Sampford Peverel after the emnity between him and my brother.'
The formidable Avelina, now in a towering rage, began to vigorously contradict Ralph, but was drowned out by the booming voice of Odo, who directed his venom at Ralph, rather than his stepmother.
'Brother, you forget yourself! You have no right to take upon yourself the mantle of manor-lord. I am your senior now by two removes, Hugo having been your elder brother, yet still ranking below me.'
Figure of Hate Page 18