Bernard Knight - Figure of Hate

De Wolfe nodded. 'That's why Hubert WaIter picked me for this,' he said. 'It's the same sort of job, nothing glamorous about it, just a bodyguard who can speak the language and find my way through the Welsh woods and hills.'

Nesta, her eyes glistening with pride at her lover's achievements, refused to let him belittle the honour. 'John, the King himself picked you and sent you his personal greetings, so you said the parchment states. You are an important man!'

De Wolfe felt that perhaps some of Matilda's revelling in fame was rubbing off on his mistress, but he was in too good a mood to complain.

'Gwyn, we have to be in Chepstow by next Thursday, a three-day journey, if we cross the Severn by boat. So we must leave no later than Monday.'

The coroner's exciting news kept the conversation going through another platter of meat pasties and another gallon of ale. There was much discussion about the politics of the ceaseless conflict between the English Crown and the independent Welsh princedoms, but as most of the news from there was weeks or months old by the time it reached Devon, no one was quite sure what the present political situation might be. When a lull came in this discussion, Hugh de Relaga shifted his portly, multi-coloured figure from his stool and dropped himself down with a bump on the bench alongside John.

'Before you go rushing off on your royal excursions, John, there's something I want to raise with you.'

The coroner expected his friend and business partner to launch into a discussion about the price of wool or the cost of shipping it abroad, but instead he beckoned to the young man, who came over and stood expectantly behind his uncle.

'Eustace is my brother's youngest lad,' he began, patting the youth affectionately on the shoulder. 'Until a year ago, he was a pupil in the cathedral school at Gloucester, and since then has been staying with me while he attended the pedagogues in a college house in Smythen Street.'

John wondered where all this was leading. He knew that Hugh's brother was a successful tin merchant in Tavistock, one of the Stannary towns on the west side of Dartmoor. He also knew that a few small centres of higher learning had sprung up in Exeter, as they had done some years ago in Oxford. Here the sons of wealthier people paid to attend lectures on subjects such as philosophy, grammar, logic and rhetoric, given by educated clerics, usually 'monks, canons or other learned clerks. Exeter, though a long way behind Oxford, was rapidly gaining a reputation for such colleges, most of the teaching being held informally in houses in Smythen Street, strangely to the accompaniment of nearby smiths and metal-workers banging their anvils.

De Wolfe looked from his old friend's face to the placid one of Eustace de Relaga. 'No doubt you were a good student, lad. But how can an old soldier like me be of any service to someone bursting with brains and learning?'

Eustace spoke for the first time, his voice high and clear and completely free of any Devon accent. 'My parents, especially my mother, had set their hearts on my entering the priesthood, sir. My education has been directed towards that end, but I fear that I feel no vocation for it.'

Thomas de Peyne, who had been chatting to Nesta, pricked up his ears at this statement. For anyone to decline the opportunity of entering his beloved Church was to Thomas almost a blasphemy. As his bright little eyes fixed on the young man, Eustace glanced rather bashfully at his uncle, who took up the tale.

'My brother and his wife have now accepted that he will not train for holy orders, nor does he wish to follow his father into the tin trade. But they agree with his desire to enter the public service in some capacity and hopefully work his way up to some useful position of trust and authority — maybe, in the fullness of time, even into government service in London or Winchester. '

The coroner still failed to see what this had to do with him, and rather bluntly said as much to his friend. The tubby portreeve took no offence.

'Eustace speaks, reads and writes Latin, French and English and is conversant with all modern learning, thanks to an excellent education. What he lacks, quite naturally at his tender age, is practical experience and a knowledge of the everyday world. I and his parents would dearly like to attach him to you as a sort of apprentice in the coroner's service — a kind of assistant to Thomas here, who might welcome some help in his copying of documents and suchlike.'

John's black brows came together as he thought about this sudden proposition. Hugh may have taken this for rejection, as he hurriedly went on to reassure his friend.

'There would naturally be no salary required — indeed, I would be happy to reimburse any expenses that might be entailed. It would be but for a trial period, to see if you could put up with him! And now that Thomas is to become actively involved again in ecclesiastical affairs, perhaps with a parish or prebend of his own, you may in the future be seeking a new clerk.'

The coroner looked across at Thomas, who was listening intently to this exchange.

'What do you think of this notion, Thomas? Would you like an acolyte to sit at your feet and help you with your quills and inks?'

The little clerk, until then euphoric at the prospect of his return to his beloved Church, abruptly seemed more sober.

'If it is your wish, Crowner, I see no reason why he should not follow us to learn something of the clerk's trade,' he said rather stiffly. 'But I have assured you that I have no intention of leaving your service, even though I am returned to the priesthood. I owe you much, even my very life, and I would never abandon my duties 'until I was sure my services were no longer required.'

De Wolfe read this as a warning shot against any move to displace Thomas in the short or long term, and he suspected that Hugh and his nephew got the same message from the tone of Thomas's voice.

'What about you, Gwyn? What do you think of having an addition to our little team?'

The big Cornishman shrugged. 'It's all one to me, Crowner! If the young fellow can ride a horse and drink ale, he's welcome to tag along.'

John turned back to the portreeve and his nephew, whose fresh, almost girlish face was tense with anticipation.

'We'll give it a try, Hugh, for a few weeks at least. Eustace, you can join us at our visitations to all the legal incidents that concern us and attend the inquests and various courts in which we are involved. You will take your instructions from Thomas de Peyne here, and help him in any way in which he directs you. Is that agreed?'

The young man nodded enthusiastically and thanked the coroner in his too-perfect English. His uncle added his own effusive thanks and ordered a flask of Nesta's most expensive wine as a final celebratory drink for everyone. After everyone had toasted Thomas's good news for the last time, the portreeve added another salute, this time to the addition of his nephew Eustace to the ranks of those who upheld the law in Devonshire.

As he downed the dregs in his cup, John glanced at Thomas's face and hoped to God that he had done the right thing by the little clerk.

As he strode home alone though the darkened lanes, John's thoughts slid away from the relatively minor problem of Thomas and Eustace and returned to the more portentous news of the day, his trip to Wales. There was much to be done in the time before he departed, especially another effort to resolve the death of the silversmith and the mystery at Sampford Peverel, which he was convinced were connected. As he tramped past the first street light, a guttering pitchbrand stuck above the Beargate leading into the cathedral close, he wondered how the coroner's business would survive without him for at least two weeks, which was an optimistic estimate of the time it would take to get into the hinterland of Wales and back again. His counterpart in North Devon, who had been appointed a few months back, could cover for some of the major cases in the centre of the county, but he could not be expected to ride down to the south coast, except in exceptional circumstances. John shrugged in the darkness — Hubert WaIter could not have his loaf and eat it. If he wanted John in Wales, then he would have to accept that his new coroner system would be overstretched for a time. It was already almost impossible for only two officers to cover every death in the huge county, and he knew that many cases went by default. The original Article of Assize from the King's justices in Kent, a year last September, had decreed that three coroners were to be elected in each county. That was all very well, but where were they to be found? Few active men had the time or inclination to take on a demanding and often distasteful job for no recompense at all.