Season of the Raven (A Servant of the Crown Mystery Book 1)

by Denise Domning

  "It's Halbert's fine tunic, the one Agnes gave him as a wedding gift," Faucon said. "I cannot believe that Sir Alain stayed long enough at Priors Holston after killing Halbert to put that tunic on him for vengeance's sake."

  "What do you mean? Explain it to me," Colin urged. "Better yet, tell me everything you know—or believe—of how this murder happened."

  "Aye, then. I'll start where I think this all began," Faucon said. "I think that just before Sir Alain left for the Michaelmas court in Rochester, he received word from Agnes that the prior would not help her escape her marriage to Halbert. She had gone to Lambertus, hoping he would dissolve the marriage when she claimed Halbert wasn't doing his marital duty. I'm not certain she knew that prior was aware of her former relationship with Alain."

  He shot Colin a smiling sidelong look. "She was when she left the priory. No matter how she argued, Lambertus rebutted her every request, even claiming the possibility that Halbert might miraculously put life in a womb where none had ever before stirred.

  "Now this I can never prove, but I believe Lambertus has also taken advantage of the sheriff's quest for profit and borrowed from him. That momentary lapse on his part now pinches him most dearly. But that has nothing to do with this story."

  Faucon once more stretched his toes out to the hearthstone as he continued his tale. "Left with no other avenue to save the one he loved, the sheriff sent word to Halbert that he would come to Aldersby upon his return to the shire from the royal court. I can only guess what threats might have been made, but I suspect it had to do with the loan Sir Alain had made to the miller. Perhaps he was demanding full payment of what was owed to him or to collect whatever Halbert had promised for collateral.

  "Any such threat would have panicked Halbert. Again, this is nothing I know for certain, but I wager Halbert was spending coins he should have been paying Alain. Priors Holston is nothing but a large village, not even as big a town as this one, yet Stephen's attire and their home rivals those of the grandest of London merchants.

  "Thus, rightly believing himself doomed, Halbert went to the priory where he had the truth scribed on that parchment, which he left for Stephen to find and decipher, injuring two birds with his one stone. Stephen was pressing him about Agnes' dower, generally making life miserable for Halbert. And, if Alain was going to kill him, Halbert was going to make certain the sheriff never received another penny from his loan.

  "Then Alain arrives at Aldersby, and before he knows it, there is Stephen, coming to offer just the resolution he craves to the problem of Agnes. I'm wagering Stephen offered to continue paying on that loan if Sir Alain would do the deed that Stephen couldn't bring himself to do. It's my guess that Stephen suggested drowning. Put his father in the race while he was in a drunken stupor, and let the wheel take him. But Alain craved Halbert's blood for his betrayal."

  He smiled at Colin. "To simply drown Halbert would have been very unsatisfying," he said, and was rewarded with the monk's laugh.

  "Thus the scheme with the pig and the blood, because Stephen wanted his father's death to appear only as an accident. Anything else might lead just where it has, to the revelation of the truth of his birth," Faucon continued.

  "The death of 'Wina's mother was but a happy accident, or so I believe. It made no difference if Stephen was in his home at Priors Holston or gone when Halbert died. All the village knew that Halbert had taken to drinking outside by the wheel. And, as Simon the Fuller said, Halbert would release the brake just to spite his neighbors. No one would have raised an eyebrow when a drunken Halbert slipped into the race and drowned."

  Here, Faucon paused to grin at his guest. "And all would have gone just as planned—Stephen would yet be milling, Sir Alain would yet have payments to collect—save for the meddling of two monks—Brother Edmund and you."

  That set Colin laughing again. This time, the sound of his amusement was a low and very satisfied chuckle. "That is how it is with monks. We meddle. Although he and I should take warning. See what it cost Prior Lambertus to put his fingers where he shouldn't have? Now, about that tunic?" he prodded.

  "Ah, that bedamned piece of cloth," Faucon said with no little frustration. He took the pitcher of cider left by the maid from the floor beside his chair and refilled both their cups before continuing.

  "So there is Stephen and Alain, returning to the village in the dead of night. No doubt, the use of that awl had been discussed and planned, in keeping with Stephen's goal to make this look like accident. That morning, before Stephen left for 'Wina's home, he goaded his father with his departure, battering his father, knowing his refusal to stay would drive Halbert to drink more than usual.

  "The workday ends, Halbert begins drinking. He's angry at Stephen and expects Alain at any moment. In his drunken rage, he brings out the tunic he doesn't wear, the one that Agnes gave him, the symbol of all that will destroy him. Simon intervenes, sending Agnes to the alewife's house. Halbert drops that tunic on the side of the race, and there it stays as Halbert spews his curses at the wheel, then finally falls asleep on the side of the race."

  Faucon breathed out, staring into the fire, as the information he had in store shifted and turned in his mind.

  "Then, in the dead of night, the miller's son and the sheriff come," Colin said, prodding. "They carry Halbert into Simon's croft. The sheriff pierces Halbert's heart and...?"

  "Nay, they undress Halbert on the race side," Faucon corrected, "then carry Halbert into the croft. Remember, there were no stains of any kind on Halbert's braies or shirt when there would have been, had he sat or lain in the ashes," he told the monk, then took up the story once again.

  "Alain pierces Halbert's heart, getting the vengeance he craved for Halbert's betrayal, then he leaves, not knowing that I've been given the Crowner's position. He expects no difficulties with the inquest on the morrow. That's why he left it up to Stephen to finish the night's task, not realizing that out of habit Stephen would brake the wheel after his father's body had already stopped it from turning."

  "As I said," Colin offered, "a liar always missteps. So when Stephen carried his father's body back to the race, he washed him and dressed him—"

  Faucon caught his breath as the meaning of the tunic hit him. "He dressed in the clothing left on the edge of the race," he interrupted. "In his hurry or his nervousness, he put his father in his shirt and braies, then the tunic. Because it was there."

  Colin shook his head. "Nothing more than that?"

  "Nothing more than that," Faucon replied, smiling. "Then he put his father in the race and when Halbert was up against the wheel, released the brake. Halbert was swept beneath the wheel and it stopped. Then, as I've said, he braked the wheel out of habit, dropped the wrench and fled, expecting Alf to appear from the mill."

  Here, Faucon paused. "Alf suggested it might have been intended that he would be accused of Halbert's death. If Stephen had any inkling that Alf was also Halbert's son, this might have been the plan, but that's something we'll never know, not now."

  Rolling his cup between his palms, Faucon continued. "I think I'm going to like this crowner's position. But I see I must accustom myself to these murders that may not be resolved."

  "These? There is more than one you cannot resolve?" the monk wanted to know.

  "Aye, one more already. After you left me at Priors Holston, a child's body was discovered some miles away. It was clear she'd been carried to where she was left, as there was no nearby village or hamlet. Her throat had been slit, but the scavengers had been at her for a time before she was found that there was no knowing who she might have been."

  The color drained from Colin's face. He bent to set his cup upon the hearth stone, then looked at Faucon. "Was she dressed in a fine linen shift with a crown of flowers upon her head?" His voice broke as he spoke.

  Faucon eyed him in surprise. "The flowers, aye. But her attire was more shirt than shift. Why?"

  "Lord save us, it's happening again," the monk breathed, a hand pressed to his m
outh. "I thought it was finally over."

  Faucon lowered his feet to the floor, then straightened in his chair. "A child has been killed in this same way before this?"

  Colin nodded, sadness filling his gaze. "And just as you describe. There have been six. Sir Alain brought their remains to my abbey, where we kept them in the ice house, hoping to identify them before they were naught but bones. When he stopped bringing them, I breathed in relief."

  Folding his hands in his lap, he stared at his entwined fingers. "Here is all I know of them. The child is always found in the open, her hair loosened and a crown of flowers upon her head. Her throat is slit. The lasses I've seen have each been dressed in a fine linen shift. None have been known by anyone in Stanrudde, nor has any family complained of a missing girl."

  "Six?" Faucon said in welling disgust. What sort of beast murdered innocents?

  "Six, only if every murdered babe has been found," Colin corrected gently. "You know how folk will do when they find the body of one they don't know. They'll move the corpse outside their boundaries or bury it, all to avoid the murdrum fine. We haven't seen a girl now for more than two years. I thought—nay, I prayed it had ended."

  Colin looked at him, hollow-eyed. "We need a good knight and true, Sir Faucon. One who cares not if the child is but a girl and worth nothing, as was Sir Alain's complaint when my abbot pressed him to take action. Pursue the one who does this, because it is the right thing to do. Stop him."

  I catch my breath in stunned surprise. She is exquisite! I vow I've have never seen such beauty in one of her lowly birth. Her hair is the color of holy fire. The fine strands waft in the air, shifting and shimmering as they catch what remains of the day's light, encircling her with a glow that proclaims her purity.

  That stirring I know so well begins, welling until it fills me from my head to my toes. Our holy Father has claimed this one as His own.

  I pause at the gate to the place, waiting to be seen. Folk of their sort are always hospitable to those of mine. I have never been refused a bed and meal when I am on the road.

  It takes but a moment before they see me. The children come dashing, calling for the elders to join them. I watch as the child's mother lifts her daughter and cradles her close. Her head bends over the babe's shoulder as tears start from her eyes.

  My heart breaks for her. So it is with those like her. They are so often worn to exhaustion by the hardships of their lives. It's a shame that they cannot see beyond their earthly sorrows to the promise of joy that awaits in their Heavenly home.

  That is why it so important to find His maid servants when they are yet young, before these girls are emptied of all faith and joy, left bitter by the grinding poverty of their lives.

  As the mother draws close to the gate, I see that her daughter is younger than I first thought. It makes me pause. I've never been called to one so young.

  Then again, if her Lord and mine has led me here, I may not question. I draw a sustaining breath and set my heart to the task required of it. With this one hardly more than a babe, it will take more time than usual to convince her mother to release her into her Lord's custody.

  Thank you for reading this first book of my new mystery series. I hope you enjoyed Faucon and his adventure as a Crowner. If you liked the book, or I suppose even if you didn't, consider leaving a review. If you've found any formatting or typographical errors, please let me know. I appreciate the chance to correct my mistakes!

  I have to admit I had much more fun than I expected following Faucon's appointment to the Crowner's position. I'm looking forward to starting on the next book in the series. A part of me wants to write the book from Sir Alain's viewpoint. Truth be told, when I first conceived of this series, his was the voice in my head. Then Faucon came along and everything changed.

  By the way, you’ll find Lord Rannulf of Graistan, Bishop William of Hereford and Brother Colin in my Seasons Series.

  Medieval Mysteries

  Season of the Raven

  Season of the Fox

  Lost Innocents

  The Seasons Series

  Winter's Heat

  Summer's Storm

  Spring's Fury

  Autumn's Flame

  A Love for All Seasons

  Or, if you want you can buy all five books at once a box set: The Seasons Series

  The Children of Graistan

  I've started a new series of stories based on the children of my characters in the Seasons Series

  Perfect Poison, a novella

  The Lady Series, although two doesn't quite a series make. There were supposed to be more. Hmm, I wonder... .

  Lady in Waiting

  Lady in White

  The Warrior Series

  The Warrior's Wife (previously The Warrior's Damsel)

  The Warrior's Maiden (previously My Lady's Temptation)

  The Warrior's Game

  Or, if you want you can buy all three books at once a box set: The Warrior Series

  My only Regency era book and my only Western.

  I'm afraid these are one-offs. These periods are just too modern for me. I'm better off back when guys just bashed each other with hunks of steel.

  Almost Perfect

  An Impetuous Season, a novella

  Monica Sarli's Memoir Men-ipulation

  And then there's Monica Sarli's memoir which I co-wrote. Men-ipulation is a memoir of addiction and recovery. After fifteen years abusing Cocaine, Crack and (her personal favorite) Heroin, Monica chose on August 4, 1986 to clean up and hasn't looked back-even though cleaning up cost her everything she valued in life. For anyone struggling with addiction or who loves someone suffering with addiction, this is a book you won't want to miss. (And, yes she really talks like that all the time.)

  The book includes of number of Medieval terms. I've used a number of odd terms that are likely to be unfamiliar to some people. This is a good start. If you find others as you read and your e-reader can't identify them, contact me and I'll add them to the list.

  Amercement "being at the mercy of". An arbitrary fine commonly used as punishment for minor offenses and as an alternative to imprisonment.

  Braies A man's undergarment. Made from a single piece of linen that is tied around the waist with a cord. Worn more or less like a loin cloth but more voluminous so the garment can be arranged to cover the hips and thighs.

  Chausses Stockings made of cloth (not knitted). Each leg ties onto the waist cord of the braies.

  Crowner From the Latin Coronarius, meaning Servant of the Crown. The word eventually evolves into 'Coroner'

  Deodand Derived from the deo dandum, meaning "to be given to God." An object is declared deodand if it is used to kill someone. The inquest jury is responsible for appraising the object’s value and the owner is expected to pay a fine equal to that value. If the owner cannot pay, the hundred or village must pay in their stead. Theoretically, once the crown has taken possession of a deodand, it must sell it then use the profit for a religious or pious purpose.

  Dower The bridegroom's offering to his bride. Generally dower should be one-third the value of the bride's dowry. Dower is an annuity for the wife, meant to support her after her husband's death. She holds her dower for her life time, and can accrue dower over the course of multiple marriages. Upon her death, her dower returns to the heirs of the original owner.

  Dowry What the bride brings to her husband upon marriage. Depending on her class, this can be a throne, estates, a skill (such as milling), or in the case of peasant brides, pots and pans and other household goods.

  First estate, Ordained first by God, this is all clergy, from the pope to the lowliest clerk.

  Second estate, Ordained by the clergy, the royalty and nobility

  Third estate Ordained by the nobility, the commoners and merchants, or working men in general.

  Fee Tail From Medieval Latin feodum talliatum, which means "cut-short fee". Used to make certain an estate remained in the family line. Mortgaging land (or in the ca
se of this book, the operation of a mill) in fee tail was a risk, since the heirs had no obligation to the lender.

  Fulling Fulling involves two processes applied to newly woven woolen cloth. Scouring removes oils, dirt and impurities while milling thickens the cloth. This is done by pounding the woolen cloth with the fuller's feet, or hands, or a club, or, eventually, with a water-powered fulling mill.

  Gambeson A heavy padded, long-sleeved tunic usually hip length worn beneath a chain mail tunic

  Hemp A soft, strong fiber plant with edible seeds. Hemp can be twisted into rope or woven for use in making everything from storage bags to mattress covers.

  Hundred A geographic division of a county or shire. It likely once referred to an area capable of providing a hundred men at arms, or containing a hundred homes.

  Koren The Old English word for "corn", meaning kernels as in wheat, barley and other grains. Modern corn, as in sweet corn, is rightly referred to as maize.

  Mazer A large wooden drinking bowl commonly used for celebrations

  Murdrum From which the word "murder" comes. Established after the Norman Conquest when the English were actively killing their conquerors. If a dead person cannot be proved to be English, said person is assumed to be Norman and the fine is levied. By the 12th Century the fine is more about raising revenue than punishing the citizenry.

  Pleas of the Crown To plead for justice from the royal court, or representative of the court. Like going to your local police station and filing a complaint.

  Prebendary A senior member of the clergy who is supported by the revenue from an estate or parish. He generally had a role in the administration of a cathedral.

  Toft and Croft A toft is the area of land on which a peasant's house sits. The croft, generally measuring seven hundred feet in length and forty in width. It was in the croft that a serf would grow their personal food staples, such as onions, garlic, turnips and other root crops, legumes and some grains.