Bernard Knight - Figure of Hate

'His younger brother, by the looks of it,' replied de Wolfe bitterly. With so much to do today, the last thing he needed was another quarrel with Hugo. Robert Longus had put on a spurt and hurried ahead. By the time the coroner and his officer caught up with him, he had managed a few gabbled words to the Peverels.

Hugo scowled when he saw John approaching.

'Are you intent on persecuting me, de Wolfe? You've caused me trouble enough these past two days!'

The coroner ignored his words. 'Does this man belong to your manor?'

'He does indeed! Robert Longus is my armourer and a very good one at that. What concern is that of yours?'

His tone was as abrasive as he could make it, almost a snarl to denote his contempt of de Wolfe's meddling in his affairs.

'My concern is that he is accused of assault, robbery and possibly murder.'

Hugo glowered at the coroner, then turned to the younger man, who could only be his brother.

'Ralph, see how I am treated by these Exeter people! They lose no opportunity to persecute me with trumped-up charges, anything to discomfit me.' His brother shrugged but made no reply, and John gained the feeling that little love was lost between the two men. Ralph was a younger version of Hugo, probably in his late twenties, thought John. He had the same set to his features, but a less aggressive expression.

'There's no persecution, Peverel,' snapped John. 'Until this moment, I had no idea that this man was in your employ. Just give me a straight answer. He says you can vouch for his whereabouts early on Monday morning, when I have been told he was some miles away, perpetrating robbery with violence.'

As Hugo glared back, an ostler appeared, leading two horses by their bridles. 'I've no time to bandy words with you, Coroner. But if it gets you out of my hair, then yes, of course Robert was with me on Monday morning. We were preparing my equipment for the tourney. So you can forget any malicious nonsense about him being elsewhere.'

He reached up for the pommel of his saddle and swung himself up on to the beast's back, his brother doing the same behind him.

'Now I'm going home and am glad to be shaking the dust of this miserable city from my feet. I've met with nothing but insolence and antagonism ever since I arrived.'

He snatched up the reins, but at a sign from John, Gwyn grabbed the bit-ring and pulled the horse's head down to stop it moving on.

'That's not good enough, Peverel!' snapped the coroner. 'I am holding an inquest this morning into the death of a silversmith and I need the attendance of anyone who can offer any evidence on the matter.' For a moment, it looked as if the inflamed Hugo was going to give Gwyn's hand a crack with the riding staff that he held in his hand, but he restrained himself.

'That's no concern of mine! I've never heard of this dead man and have not the slightest interest in your problems.'

'Then your armourer here must attend. He has been accused of being involved in the death and needs to defend himself,' snapped de Wolfe.

'Indeed he will not' shouted the manor-lord. 'I need him at home. Robert, get back to your lodgings, fetch your horse and follow us. We'll wait for you at St Sidwells.'

With that, he wrenched his steed's head away from Gwyn's grasp and, touching its belly with his spurs, jerked it away from the inn, his brother following impassively behind. On foot, there was nothing John could do to detain them and, glowering with frustration, he watched them trot away towards the East Gate.

Then he swung round to Robert Longus, who was sidling away in the opposite direction.

'Hey, you! Don't you dare try to make off or I'll have you in shackles in the castle gaol.'

Gwyn strode after him and seized him by the shoulder.

'You'll be up at the Shire Hall in two hours' rime, understand?' continued John. 'If you're not there, I'll have you attached and arrested, even if I have to come to Sampford Peverel to do it myself!'

The Shire Hall was an austere stone box on the left side of the inner ward in Rougemont. A virtually empty shell, its architecture was similar to that of a barn, a single large chamber with an earthen floor, entered by a high arched doorway that could have admitted a haycart. The rough roof beams supported a covering of stone tiles, and the only furnishings on a low wooden platform facing the entrance were a couple of trestle tables, a few benches and some stools.

For all its unprepossessing appearance, it was an important place, and one in frequent use, not only for the fortnightly Shire Court, but for meetings of freeholders to conduct county business and for the periodic visits of the King's judges and Commissioners for the Eyres and Gaol Delivery. Coroner's inquests were often held there, as well as other functions to do with the forest law, frankpledge and many other legal, political and administrative meetings.

Today, John had little expectation of making much progress with his inquiry, but the formality had to be gone through, so that the corpse could be released for burial. When he went across to the hall from his chamber, he found that Gwyn had marshalled the reluctant jurymen into a straggling line below the dais, where Thomas was already sitting at a table with his pen, ink and parchment at the ready. To one side of the jury stood an elderly man and two youths, together with a middle-aged woman, who was quietly weeping into her hands. De Wolfe assumed that these were a brother, two sons and the leman of the silversmith, who Gwyn had said had travelled from Totnes to collect the deceased. In spite of John's threats, there was no sign of the armourer Robert Longus, and the coroner vowed to make him pay dearly for his flaunting of the law.

When two men-at-arms had dragged in a handcart on which the body lay shrouded under a sack, they were ready to start, and John pulled a stool to the edge of the platform and sat down while Gwyn bellowed out the customary opening call.

'Oyez, oyez, all persons having anything to do before the King's coroner for the county touching the death of August Scrope, draw near and give your attendance.'

As the dozen men were already drawn as near as they wished to be to the now foul-smelling cadaver, this produced no response, and the coroner went straight into the proceedings. He briefly described the circumstances of the death, then called forward the 'first finders', the two men from the quay-side. Haltingly, they described how they found the body in the river, which caused the men of the family to mutter angrily and the mistress to snuffle more heart-rendingly.

Then Alfred, the second silversmith, stated that his master and Terrus had left Exeter early on Monday morning to deliver expensive silverware to a client in Topsham and had not returned as they had promised.

Terrus himself then came forward and displayed his injuries and related how he and his master had been attacked by two mounted men. He failed to recall what had happened to August Scrope, as he himself had been knocked unconscious, his wits not returning until he found himself in St James' Priory.

'But do you recollect the faces of the men who assaulted you?' demanded de Wolfe, leaning forward on his stool. The craftsman nodded vigorously.

'That I do, Crowner — at least, one of them! He was the man I pointed out to you in the fair this morning.' John straightened up and directed his voice at the family members, as well as the jury. 'He was a fellow from Sampford Peverel, who calls himself Robert Longus. I warned him to attend this inquest but he has defaulted, and I therefore attach him in the sum of five marks to attend either a resumed inquest or the next county court. If he fails to appear then, he will be arrested or, failing that, attached to appear before the King's justices or his commissioners when they next visit Exeter.'