The Mad Monk of Gidleigh

by Michael Jecks

  His feelings were plain, and when Piers glanced at him, he all but winced to see Elias’s face, but nothing would change his mind. Ever since he had walked with Flora towards the mill and learned that Esmon had tried to rape her, he had grown more determined to see Esmon pay for his crimes. ‘Elias may not know that Wylkyn’s body has disappeared, though.’

  The old peasant stared at Piers dumbly. ‘Wylkyn’s gone?’

  ‘Somebody scared the shit out of my son last night,’ Piers nodded. ‘Took the body – we don’t know where. With all the rain, there’s little chance of tracking it down now, either.’

  ‘Elias,’ Baldwin said, ‘we don’t care about your role in reporting the body. The only point that concerns us is finding the body again for the Coroner. You understand? Otherwise the entire vill will be fined for concealing a murdered man.’

  ‘It was Osbert told me about him. Osbert was walking out that way and heard a fight or something, and when he carried on, he saw a body lying in the gulley near the wall there. So he came back here in a hurry and asked me to report it. See, they can’t fine me again – but it wouldn’t have been kind to Osbert to have that as well as poor Mary hanging over him.’

  ‘Poor Mary?’ Baldwin enquired. ‘What was she to him?’

  ‘Everyone knew Os adored her,’ Elias said shortly. ‘We hoped he’d pluck up courage and ask for her hand, but he never did. And she was a bit flighty. Didn’t want one of the dull-wits from round here, she used to say.’

  ‘Osbert?’ Simon mused. ‘Is that the lad who came to fetch me?’

  Elias nodded.

  ‘Could this Os have raped and killed her in frustration, if he was so keen to possess her?’ Baldwin wondered.

  ‘We all know who killed Mary,’ Elias said gruffly. ‘It was that priest, Mark.’

  ‘You were there when the girl died, weren’t you?’ Simon asked.

  ‘Yes. Ploughing.’

  His voice was toneless. Baldwin spoke softly, soothingly. ‘Friend, all we want is to find out who could have done these terrible things, that is all. Could you tell us anything you saw or heard that day?’

  Elias told them again. He had repeated his tale so often in the last few days, it sprang to his mind as though he was watching the scene again even now.

  ‘It was quite a clear day,’ he began with a sigh. ‘I’d got up to the edge of the field, and the first few times all I could hear was the chopping of wood from hedge-laying on the other side of the lane. That was Osbert.’

  ‘I see. Right, continue!’

  ‘One time, when I came up to the top of the field, I heard voices. I knew them both. I’ve heard the priest often enough, and I’ve known Mary all her life. Didn’t think anything of it – why should I? The priest can talk to whoever he wants, can’t he?’

  ‘You’re sure you didn’t stop and listen a while?’ Simon said suspiciously.

  Elias gazed at him scornfully. ‘You think they wouldn’t notice a plough suddenly stopping? They wouldn’t notice if Ben stopped urging the team on, if I stopped shouting, if the blade in the soil went quiet?’

  ‘Who’s this Ben?’ Simon asked.

  ‘Mary’s brother.’

  ‘So if he heard something odd, he’d have sung out by now,’ Simon said.

  Elias was doubtful. ‘Perhaps. Ben never liked her much. Not recently, anyway.’

  ‘His own sister?’ Baldwin said.

  ‘No,’ Elias said, glancing at Piers for confirmation.

  ‘It’s true, Sir Baldwin,’ he said reluctantly. ‘There were rumours.’

  ‘There are always rumours. What were they?’

  ‘That Ben tried to molest his own sister.’

  Baldwin felt as though he was closer to understanding the undercurrents of the vill. ‘You mean he tried to sleep with Mary?’

  ‘Yes. And she rejected him. It is only rumour,’ he added miserably.

  ‘Where did it originate, I wonder?’

  ‘With the young lads of the vill, I think. For my part I find it hard to believe, because it is so unnatural for a brother to lie with his sister, yet…’

  ‘Yet?’

  ‘Mary was a very pretty child. All the men would watch her when she passed by. And during a long, cold winter, a boy could seek comfort and solace in the arms of his sister. Who knows? Perhaps one thing led to another. And then he bragged about it with his friends, perhaps. I have heard of such things before.’

  ‘So have I,’ said Baldwin. Unnatural though such behaviour was, it was not unknown.

  He gave Elias a nod. ‘Continue.’

  ‘That was all. When I was done, I sent the boy to open the gate, and I went out after the team. He stayed there to shut the gate while I carried on back towards the barton…’

  ‘Where would this be?’ Baldwin asked smoothly.

  ‘Down at the bottom of Deave Lane, by the ford at the brook.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘When we got along the road a ways, we saw her. Down on the ground by the hedge.’

  ‘Which side of the lane?’

  ‘On my right.’

  ‘So the opposite side of the road from your ploughing?’

  ‘Yes. She was there, and there was blood all about her… you know. Her legs were wide enough to see where it all came from.’

  ‘You noticed her instantly, so I assume anyone else passing there must have seen her?’

  ‘Oh, yes. No one could have missed that sight.’

  ‘You saw no sign of the priest at this stage?’

  ‘No, he’d been long gone, I’d reckon.’

  Simon sniffed. ‘You say there were rumours about this Ben. Did he leave the field at any time?’

  Elias scuffed a boot in the dirt. ‘Not that I remember.’

  Baldwin eyed him. There was a strangeness about him, as though Elias thought this was hardly worth his consideration. Perhaps he was merely convinced of the priest’s guilt, he thought.

  ‘So you did… what?’

  ‘I didn’t want Ben to see his sister like that, so I sent the boy down to the barton to call for help, while I stood there with the oxen. They grazed on the stuff at the side of the road.’

  ‘What of the man laying the hedge… Osbert, you said?’ Baldwin asked, glancing at Piers.

  ‘He was gone by then, but he’d not have done anything to hurt her.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because he loved her, Sir Baldwin. Everyone knew that. He was after her like a tom cat after his queen.’

  ‘Sometimes I have found that those who love the strongest are also those who are swiftest to kill in jealousy,’ Baldwin commented. Something made him glance up at Piers. The Reeve was staring fixedly at Elias. The peasant was clearly feeling more comfortable, his head was up again, and he had stopped staring at Baldwin’s boots.

  ‘Tell me, what else did you see that day, Elias?’ he asked suavely.

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘There was something that made you very fearful for your own safety, wasn’t there? Did you see the murderer – is that it?’

  ‘I didn’t see no murder,’ Elias said doggedly, his head dropping again.

  ‘But you saw something else, didn’t you? Or was it someone else? Yes, that is it, is it not? You saw someone riding past, before you saw her body. Did that someone ask you to report the body so that they could make good their own escape?’

  ‘No, nothing like that.’

  ‘Then what? Come along, man – speak!’ Baldwin burst out, and then he felt Simon’s hand on his arm. The realisation hit him like a blow as he saw Elias’s eyes flicker up at the castle walls behind them. That was why he thought Ben was irrelevant! There was genuine fear in his face, as though he was worried that Sir Ralph himself might have heard the demand and might seek to punish the man who spoke and gave away secrets to a foreign Keeper.

  ‘Nothing,’ Elias said, his head drooping once more.

  ‘It was Esmon, was it?’ Baldwin said.

  ‘I didn’t see him!’ Elias state
d.

  There was no doubting the sincerity of his voice. ‘Are you sure? Then it was Sir Ralph.’

  Elias hunched his shoulders as though hiding his head. ‘I didn’t say that.’

  ‘I am Keeper of the King’s Peace. Do you deny you saw Sir Ralph?’ Baldwin demanded. ‘If I learn you have lied to me, Elias, I can have you gaoled in Exeter until you decide to answer. Do you want that?’

  ‘I have to choose that or saying my master’s a murderer, do I?’

  ‘All you need do is speak the truth!’

  ‘It was him,’ Elias sighed. ‘I saw Sir Ralph ride past, but not Esmon.’

  Simon was watching a group leaving the castle’s gate. Two men caught his eye. One was Osbert, the other a younger lad with dark eyes who glanced in Simon’s direction and then looked away quickly, as though anxious not to attract attention to himself. ‘Who’s that with Osbert?’

  ‘Ben, Mary’s brother.’

  ‘Hugh, fetch them here,’ Simon said and, grunting rebelliously, Hugh made his way to them. Soon they were standing before Simon and Baldwin, Osbert plainly worried, while Ben made a show of being unconcerned, but they stood uncomfortably, some little distance apart, as though disliking the fact that they were together.

  Simon considered them a long moment, but then he noticed a bush tied over the doorway of a house further up the road, a little way from the castle, and he glanced at Baldwin. ‘Let’s get away from this castle. It’s giving me the feeling we’re constantly being watched.’

  Chapter Twenty

  It was only a cheap ale-house. The farmer’s wife made a few pennies by selling ale to passers-by when she had a little too much brewed. It wasn’t the best ale Simon had ever tried, but it certainly wasn’t the worst either, and he sat on a table outside her doorway, Baldwin beside him with his arms crossed, while they questioned the men.

  ‘Osbert. We’ve heard that you found Wylkyn’s body. Why did you hide that fact?’

  Os shot Elias a look, but the older peasant was staring at the bush over the door, and Os had to resort to cursing him inwardly. ‘I… I knew Elias had already found one body. It made sense to ask him to look for Wylkyn as well.’

  ‘To evade your fines,’ Baldwin observed. ‘Never mind that for now. When the Coroner arrives, perhaps we can give him the facts and save your money for you. In the meantime, what can you tell us about Wylkyn’s body?’

  ‘He’d been badly cut about. I heard his screams and went up there, but then I saw that it was quite a band of Esmon’s men, and didn’t get involved. I’d just have got killed. Later, when they’d gone off with the carts to get them to pay their tolls, I looked over the place and found Wylkyn.’

  ‘Why would Esmon’s men have gone there?’

  Osbert shrugged. With Mary’s death, life meant little to him any more, and if he could help put the noose about Esmon’s neck, so much the better. Everyone feared him and his men-at-arms after their robberies and rapings. ‘To rob them? They’ve often raided travellers, demanding tolls where none are due. That’s what they did the other day; they killed Wylkyn, but took all the rest to the castle. I suppose they went through all the goods and stole what they wanted.’

  Simon and Baldwin exchanged a look. This was a serious felony. Osbert’s evidence, if corroborated, could lead to Esmon and his father being arrested. Not, Baldwin told himself, that it would mean they would be forced to suffer the full penalty of law, for they had friends in high places, but even so, it would lead to shame.

  He nodded towards the road that led to the mill. ‘What of the girl Mary? We hear you loved her.’

  Os reddened. ‘I did,’ he said stoutly, as though daring anyone to comment.

  There was no laughter, but for a small snigger from Ben. Baldwin immediately turned his attention to the lad. ‘You were with Elias here when your sister was killed. Did you notice anything about her body?’

  ‘Yes. She was dead,’ Ben said sarcastically.

  ‘How could you tell?’ Baldwin didn’t like this boy. Ben was glib and disrespectful, which was not the attitude of someone trying to help find the murderer of his beloved sister. He stood insolently, as though scarcely listening to Baldwin’s questions, a small-framed lad clad in a good quality woollen tunic and soft linen hose.

  Ben shrugged. ‘Elias told me.’

  ‘I tried to keep the sight from him,’ Elias explained sombrely. ‘I went to her and left Ben holding the oxen. When I saw what had happened, I sent him to fetch help and stayed with her body.’

  ‘You did well,’ Baldwin said and turned back to Ben. ‘Do you think Mark could have killed your sister?’

  ‘Him? I suppose so. She was all over him most of the time. Slobbering like a bitch on heat. Probably thought she could get him to throw in his place as a priest like old Surval the Hermit.’

  ‘He did what?’ Baldwin said.

  Piers said, ‘He used to be a priest, but got thrown out of his church because he did something. Don’t know what, but he feels the guilt still.’

  ‘We shall ask him. Osbert, you were out there that day when Mary was killed. Do you think it could have been Mark?’

  ‘I was working at the hedge at the time. I didn’t hear anything apart from the noise of the oxen and Ben calling to them. And I couldn’t see anyone in the roadway. Only someone on horseback would have been visible to me.’

  ‘You had left before Elias and Ben?’

  ‘Yes. I had to go to the mill and help Huward.’

  ‘You did not see the body when you went to the mill?’ Baldwin said.

  ‘I didn’t go by the lane,’ Os said. ‘I went over the fields back to the vill, then took the lane from there down to the mill.’

  ‘Did you see Sir Ralph or his son?’

  ‘I saw Sir Ralph,’ Osbert agreed, frowning with the effort of recollection. ‘He was down at the bottom of the road on his horse when I saw him. That was where I reached the road myself.’

  ‘What of Esmon?’ Simon asked. ‘Did anyone see him?’

  ‘Yes,’ Ben said. ‘He was down near the castle when I got there. He had mud all over his legs, as if he’d been riding up on the moors.’

  ‘Why would he have gone up there?’ Simon wondered aloud. ‘Was he hunting?’

  ‘He had no dogs.’ Ben shrugged.

  Baldwin was watching him closely. ‘Master Ben, you seem entirely unaffected by losing your sister.’

  ‘I have another one!’

  His glib reply made Simon want to hit him, and he was seeking for a sharp response when he saw Osbert’s face. The strong peasant looked as though he could break into tears at any moment. Rather than upset Os further, Simon said, ‘Where were you on the day that this Wylkyn died?’

  ‘I was in a tavern. There were plenty of men there to vouch for me, too.’

  ‘Is there anything else you want to tell us?’ Baldwin said, looking from one to another of them, but all their long faces told him that there was nothing more to learn here. The only one who looked less than worried was Ben. He waved at the alewife to demand drink as Baldwin watched. His insouciance was insufferable, but there was nothing Baldwin could do about a man who was so uncaring about his own sister.

  ‘We should go,’ he muttered. ‘We have to find the body of this Wylkyn and ensure that Mark is released into our custody.’

  ‘I don’t understand what you keep asking about Mary’s death for anyway,’ Ben said. He had a large pot of cider now, which he drank steadily, spilling some down his chin and throat. Gasping, he signed for another pot. ‘The Coroner and everyone else are content that Mark was Mary’s murderer. What do you expect to find?’

  ‘Perhaps I don’t believe that Mark killed her,’ Baldwin said, rising. It was time to return to the castle. ‘Reeve, I suggest you organise a hunt for this missing miner’s body. We shall need to have something to show the Coroner, or you will be very heavily fined, won’t you?’

  Piers grunted noncommittally, and turned away with Elias along towards the barton an
d his home. Soon Simon and Baldwin were alone. It was as Baldwin beckoned the two Constables to bring his mount that he saw Huward. The miller was walking from the castle, his face white as a winding-sheet, and his eyes filled with a terrible horror that grabbed at Baldwin’s breast and made him stand aside as Huward passed.

  It was a momentary thing. Huward had been there, and now he was gone. A broken man, his life destroyed. It shocked Baldwin to see how Huward had changed since the night before. The miller had looked a large, hale fellow even after the horror of losing his daughter, but now he looked as though he was bent beneath a still more extreme misery. Baldwin wondered how he himself would have reacted if someone were to murder his own little daughter Richalda, if he was sure he knew who the killer was, and he had to witness the man’s escape on the technical issue that the murderer had once trained as a priest. It would appal him. Perhaps this was only the natural expression of a man who had lost his daughter to a murderer who must escape the usual penalty for his crime.

  The sight of Huward made Baldwin still more determined to see that the murderer should pay. If it was Mark, he would see the priest in the Bishop’s court – but he found himself wondering anew whether Mark could have been the murderer. After seeing the lad’s expression and alarm in the court, Baldwin found it hard to imagine a less likely murderer.

  The priest had confessed to hitting her, Baldwin reminded himself. Mark had also admitted to an affair with the girl, to getting her with child, to arguing and even to striking her… but he strenuously denied murder.

  To break someone’s neck took considerable strength. Baldwin could remember seeing Elias in the field, his muscles bunching with the effort of ending a rabbit’s life; to pull the bones apart in a woman’s neck would take much more force. Mark was no peasant with corded muscles that could snap a human neck; he was a rather weakly-looking fellow. To strike a woman, yes, that was in his power, but breaking her neck was a different matter altogether.

  ‘Simon, I don’t think Mark would have had the strength to break her neck,’ he said.

  ‘I find it hard to believe,’ Simon agreed.

  Try as he might, Baldwin could not get the picture of Elias from his mind, gently smoothing the fur of a rabbit before tugging at the head. ‘That boy Ben didn’t leave Elias, according to the old peasant.’