‘Yes,’ Baldwin agreed. ‘Just as every fire needs a spark to start it, so too there must have been something that initiated this chain of events. Once we know what that was, perhaps we’ll be closer to learning the full details.’
Hugh and John made their way along the roadway and then climbed the hill up to Iddesleigh. All the while they had a view of the steeple in front of them, and Hugh was aware of a growing feeling of nervousness as he approached it.
He did not fear killing a man, or being killed. That was of no concern to him. Someone had murdered his wife, and deserved punishment. Even if he died in the attempt, he wouldn’t care. The man who ended Constance’s life had gone a long way to ending Hugh’s own. Hugh would find him and kill him.
But he was scared. He was scared of not finding the man; of failing to kill before he was himself killed; even of finding the wrong man and executing an innocent who’d had nothing to do with his wife’s murder. All were dreadful thoughts, the last possibly the worst of all, and he found himself struck with a strange feeling, for him, of irresolution and doubt.
His bruises and wounds were giving him more pain now as he climbed the hill to the church, but his gradual slowing was not caused by them; it was the feelings of misgiving and uncertainty that seemed to sap at his strength as he went. By the time he had reached the top of the hill, he had little confidence.
‘Hugh?’ John murmured. ‘Is there something wrong?’
‘I don’t know what I can do. What if I’m wrong?’ Hugh explained what he had remembered about Constance’s seeing Matthew outside his house all those days ago.
‘You don’t have to kill the priest, Hugh. Just make sure you understand what he was doing there. And who was with him,’ John added thoughtfully.
‘You won’t stop me if I find the murderer and kill him?’ Hugh asked suddenly.
John looked at him, then glanced westwards towards his sister’s manor of Meeth. ‘I swear I won’t. If you fail, I shall strike for you, Hugh.’
Chapter Thirty-Six
They had made their way along the road back into Iddesleigh, and now took the southern road to Monkleigh. Baldwin had been reluctant to take the direct route straight to the sergeant’s house in case their horses led Sir Geoffrey’s men to expect an attack. Easier and safer to avoid the place entirely and make their way to Sir Geoffrey’s seat of power.
The hall’s grounds were very quiet. Servants walked about nervously, throwing anxious looks at the three bulky men on their horses as they rode up the pathway to the hall.
‘We’re here to see Sir Geoffrey,’ Baldwin said as a servant came through the door.
‘He’s not here, master. He’s …’
‘Over at Robert Crokers’s house. Very well. We’ll go and speak to him there.’
Baldwin was about to wheel away when he saw the other face in the doorway. ‘Ah, Sir Coroner! You weren’t with him to see him execute his justice, then?’
‘I don’t understand what you mean,’ Sir Edward said silkily. ‘He has gone to one of his outlying farms to handle some little local argument, I believe.’
‘He has killed one man already, Sir Coroner, and I shall have great pleasure in reporting your part in that murder.’
‘You speak too loudly, Sir Baldwin. This is none of your affair!’
‘Murder and felony are both my affair, sir!’ Baldwin said forcefully. ‘Do not presume to tell me where my duty or responsibility lies!’
‘Although you feel justified in telling me off? What have I done?’
‘I am not sure yet. But you come from Barnstaple, do you not?’
‘What of it?’
‘Was it not most convenient that you were so near when Sir Geoffrey had need of a coroner when the woman’s body was discovered? His favourite coroner, the one man from his lord’s household, the one man upon whom he could count, and you just happened to be less than a half-day’s ride away?’
‘It was fortunate. I had decided to stay there after another death.’
‘And then rode here urgently to hold your inquest. So urgently, indeed, that there was no time even to invite the local Keeper of the King’s Peace.’
‘If I had known you would like to …’
Baldwin’s horse lurched beneath him as he roared, ‘Do not take me for a fool, man! You know the rules under which we serve as well as I do. I should have been there to see if I could do more to find the murderer. And I shall discover him, believe me!’
His evident anger spurred Sir Edward to step outside. ‘Sir Baldwin, do you really think it would be in your interests to learn the truth? It could be that you would be plunged into the midst of disputes you would prefer to know nothing about.’
‘I want to know the truth when a man has been killed. I want to know why and how and who did it,’ Baldwin spat. ‘And when I have a coroner who has seen two women, a child and now three men dead, and who yet does nothing to seek the guilty, I have to wonder why he is so reluctant.’
‘You’re mad! Look, you know who my master is. Do you really want him as an enemy? You think your post as Keeper would protect you?’
Baldwin smiled and leaned down towards Sir Edward. In a quiet voice he hissed, ‘And do you really want him to learn that you are helping protect his steward here, even though Sir Geoffrey has been systematically robbing him?’
‘You are joking!’
‘This land that he has invaded today? It was a part of the whole which he acquired for the Despenser. He merely left aside the most profitable lump. That he was keeping for himself, sharing all the profits with Sir Odo.’
‘That’s nonsense!’ Sir Edward scoffed. ‘He couldn’t have. He and Sir Odo never got on.’
‘Not in public, no. But they have known each other for longer than you have yet lived,’ Baldwin said. ‘Still, if you won’t help but instead are set on obstructing us, there is nothing more to be said.’
‘Wait!’ Sir Edward snapped as Baldwin began to pull the reins to turn his beast.
‘What? Be quick, man. We have to get there before your incompetence leads to still more deaths.’
‘What do you want to know?’
‘Why were you so close when Sir Geoffrey sent for you to view Lady Lucy’s body?’
‘Sir Geoffrey had told me that he expected a fight soon over this extra piece of land. He said that it might become a cruel one.’
‘And this fight was over the land where he is now?’
‘I believe so. I cannot be sure. When I had a call from a messenger to come here to view the body of Lady Lucy, I assumed he’d actually decided to take over another manor. I was shocked. It never occurred to me that I’d be called back here to a woman’s body. It made me think I should be seeking some sort of bribe from him.’
‘What of the man Hugh and his family at Iddesleigh?’
‘Them? They were only peasants.’
Baldwin saw a movement from the corner of his eye, but when he flicked a glance at Simon, Edgar had already snatched his reins, and was pulling Simon away from the discussion. ‘Were you told to speed the inquest and find that it was an unknown killer?’
‘Yes. Sir Geoffrey didn’t want any dispute about that. He felt sure that the jury must decide that it had been one of his men who was responsible, and he wanted to ensure that any such speculation was nipped in the bud.’
‘What of today’s action? Did he not ask you to join him? That would have been normal in an entirely legal reoccupation of stolen lands, wouldn’t it?’
‘Perhaps – but I didn’t feel that it lay fully within my responsibilities. Come, Sir Baldwin, I have to ensure that my master is happy with me and my work, but going to behave as an observer …’
‘Especially when you were not aware that there was a fully legitimate excuse for the invasion,’ Baldwin noted coldly. ‘I wonder why he never explained that to you.’
‘I do not know. He is a very secretive man.’
‘Murderers often are!’ Simon burst out, and he snatched his r
eins back and whipped his rounsey away, down the path to the road.
There was shouting. Blearily Nicholas le Poter looked up through eyes misted with tears. He had dozed for a while, and now, peering up at the door, he saw men bringing in another body.
The first, that of Isaac, was already set out on trestles in front of the altar, and now the shape of a woman was set alongside his on a fresh pair of stands. ‘Who is that?’ Nicholas asked.
‘Lady Lucy. You killed her, you can rest here with her until it’s time for both of you to be buried,’ came the reply from a hulking peasant with a rough laugh that made Nicholas shake.
The candles at the altar were snuffed, but there was a bright ray of sunshine that lanced in through the open window at the south, and sparkled from the clean cross and all the metalwork in the church.
‘You slept a long time, my son,’ Matthew said.
‘I could sleep much longer.’
‘But if you do, you will be escaping your problems for only a short while. Better to plan what you wish to achieve.’
Nicholas wiped a grubby sleeve over his brow. Realizing he had let the altar cloth slip from his hand, he snatched at it eagerly, like an insecure horseman grabbing at a dropped rein. Only when he had it in his hand again could he breathe more easily.
‘I have brought you some wine and water, a pair of good apples, and some meats. They will keep you going for a little,’ Matthew said gently.
‘Father, you are so kind …’
‘I behave as a father must to his flock. No more.’
‘And I behave as a coward. If I had any courage, I would go out and declare Sir Geoffrey’s guilt to all and demand to be put to the justices. But I can’t, because he owns all the serfs here, and if I try to accuse him, he’ll pay all in the jury to find against me and I’ll hang!’
‘If you think that is the right action,’ Matthew murmured, ‘then you should pray to God for courage.’
Nicholas looked up at the priest gratefully. ‘I know you try to help,’ he said, ‘but it’s so hard … if I abjure, I may at least live.’
‘In a state of shame, though. While if you do your duty and accuse him, you will be more attractive to God.’
And dead, Nicholas added for him. There was no benefit to him in being dead. If he succeeded in having a knight condemned for his crimes, the man would probably be pardoned as soon as he wrote to the king. Especially if he offered a good enough bribe. That was how justice was dealt – if you had money, you could do no wrong; if you had none, you were guilty.
‘What should I do, Father?’
Matthew smiled down at him. Then he motioned to Nicholas to move up. Grimacing a little, he bent down to kneel at the altar next to the suspect. ‘First, we pray, you and I, and then you ask God to help you to decide.’
Accommodatingly Nicholas bent his head, and as Matthew began to speak, Nick heard the door open, squeaking on its hinges.
‘Ah, I always loved that sound, you know, Father,’ John said cheerfully as he and Hugh walked in.
Sir Geoffrey was almost finished at Robert’s house. He had engaged all the men in cutting saplings and dragging them to the road just after a sharp bend. With any luck, Sir Odo’s riders would be surprised to find such a barrier to their passage. Some might be thrown from their mounts, while the others would be a bunched, confused mass of men and beasts, easily picked off one by one by Sir Geoffrey’s archers, or even simply dragged from their saddles and knocked on the head.
He had completed the initial build when he heard that there were visitors to see him. Cursing mildly under his breath, for he was never best pleased to learn that others wanted his time, he issued orders for the rest of the work to be completed, then stomped back to the house.
Baldwin was crouched at the doorway, where there was a sack filled with dead puppies. Nearby was the body of their mother.
In a life which had seen so many deaths, Baldwin had grown largely immune to the sadness of most murders and accidental deaths. There had always been deaths and always would be. That was all a man needed to know. But wanton slaughter was something he always deprecated. And to kill young creatures for no purpose was deplorable. He put out a hand to touch one of the short-nosed little bundles. It was cold already.
‘You have started a fire today that will engulf you,’ he said coldly.
Sir Geoffrey pursed his lips. ‘I had expected someone from Sir Odo, but not you. What’s your relationship to him? Are you merely his paid attendant or has he offered you a part of the profits?’
‘You think I am in the same league as your friend the coroner? I wonder how much you expected to pay him. He will require more, now, I think. You had hoped to get away with very little, I expect. It can’t have been easy, especially when you realised that you must get Sir Odo off the land you and he had planned to keep.’
‘You know of …’
‘I rather think that he believes you broke any pact with him when you invaded this place today.’
Sir Geoffrey shrugged. ‘What could Odo expect? He’s been making my life hard enough. Putting that poor child’s body on my land and then I assume conspiring with my men to get the mire drained … That was a provocation I could hardly ignore.’
‘You say you did not kill her or have her killed?’
‘Of course not! I couldn’t behave in such an unchivalrous manner. The poor woman was so young – who would do such a thing? Only an avaricious man bent on his own profit!’
‘And that is how Sir Odo strikes you?’
Sir Geoffrey was still a moment. ‘You know men better than I, or so it is rumoured. What would you say?’
‘I should say that he, like you, would take any prize that was offered to him if it promised few risks and easy benefits. I should think either of you would be pleased to take a woman like her to be your wife, and that you’d neither of you have any compunction about taking all her manor and treasure to yourselves in the process, but to actually slaughter her in cold blood, that I find hard to believe,’ Baldwin said. His eyes flickered away from Sir Geoffrey and down to the sack at the doorway.
‘I would have said the same myself,’ Sir Geoffrey agreed. ‘But who else could have benefited from putting him and me at loggerheads?’
‘Perhaps I can learn that,’ Baldwin said. ‘In the meantime, these puppies. Who killed them?’
‘What?’ Sir Geoffrey asked with a blank expression. He looked over to the doorway and shrugged. ‘I think it was …’
‘No! Don’t tell me,’ Baldwin said quickly. ‘But whoever he is, you should discard him. Any man who can do that to puppies is as dangerous as a viper. He has caused the death of the man who lived here, only because of his motiveless slaughter of a litter.’
Sir Geoffrey shrugged. ‘Crokers took a dagger to one of my men.’
‘Because of your attack on his animals. He would have done nothing, were it not for this wanton destruction.’
‘I do not know that,’ Sir Geoffrey said. ‘He tried to attack one of my men, and I stopped him.’
‘Just as you would remove any other obstacle to your ambitions. A stone in your horse’s hoof, a man protecting his lands, either can be removed and destroyed, can’t they? Perhaps other barriers can also be heaved aside.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Lady Lucy – she was a barrier, wasn’t she? You wanted more land, either for yourself or for your lord. Either way, she owned it, and you wanted it. So you decided to capture her and take her in marriage, forcibly, or kill her and steal what you wanted.’
‘That is a foul untruth!’
‘Is it? I think that perhaps it is a truth in the eyes of many,’ Baldwin said.
‘If you try to tell others that, I shall destroy you!’
‘I am a knight, Sir Geoffrey. I am not so easily destroyed.’
‘All men can die, Sir Baldwin.’
‘That is true,’ Baldwin replied. He crouched down at the sack of puppies again, touching t
he little bodies. One squeaked and kicked feebly, and Baldwin reached down to pick it up. Somehow this one had not been hurt when the others had been smashed against the wall. Baldwin stroked it, and it started to squeak again, mouth wide, searching for a nipple.
‘Did I miss one?’ A skinny man with a leering face suddenly appeared in the doorway.
Baldwin eyed him a moment, the puppy in his arm. He was about to pass it to Simon when Edgar stepped up to the skinny man and punched him with full force in the belly. The man’s eyes bulged, his mouth formed a perfect ‘O’, and he collapsed to his knees, gasping desperately for breath.
At the blow all the men in the area stopped their work, and a few picked up swords and daggers. Baldwin shifted the puppy to his left hand and drew his sword. ‘Keep back! Sir Geoffrey, if you value your honour, tell them to keep away.’
Sir Geoffrey raised a hand, and his men returned to their labours. Meanwhile Baldwin went to the choking man on the ground, and put the point of his sword on his throat. He hissed, ‘You should be grateful. If I’d reached you first, I’d have killed you for what you did to that bitch and her litter. If I hear of you again, I shall seek you out and throw you into the gaol at Rougement Castle.’
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Baldwin was quiet on their return. Only when they were almost at Fishleigh did he turn to Simon and mutter, ‘I could imagine that band of felons doing anything.’
Simon said nothing. His friend was still cradling the mewling puppy, and every so often his serious dark eyes would move to the little creature. Simon knew full well how fond Baldwin was of dogs, and seeing them abused was merely proof to Baldwin of the bestial nature of the men Sir Geoffrey led.
At the manor, they called to the doorman for Sir Odo.
‘He’s not here, sir. He’s ridden off.’
‘Where to?’ Simon demanded.
‘I think he’s gone to Lady Isabel, sir.’
‘Do you know why?’ Baldwin asked. ‘Doesn’t he have enough to cope with up here?’
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