Michael Jecks - No Law in the Land

‘Is that all?’ Baldwin asked.

‘No. He made more threats against me and my family,’ Simon said. The man’s words were still ringing in his ears. Even when he slept, he swore he could hear Despenser’s voice. ‘The man will not be satisfied until he sees my body dangling.’

‘He is not a natural leader of men, I would think,’ Sir Richard said with deliberation. He bit off a massive chunk of bread and chewed for a few moments. ‘I would hope that he will soon fall from his horse and receive a buffet on the head that slows down his ability to irritate others for a while.’

Baldwin was not sure that Providence would aid the realm so swiftly. ‘The man deserves to be hanged and quartered for all the harm he has done to the kingdom. It is intolerable that he continues to persecute Simon and others.’

‘At least we will soon be far enough even from him to be secure,’ the coroner said, satisfied with the thought.

‘I wish that were true,’ Simon said quietly. ‘Sadly, I don’t think it is. He is a fierce enemy. He has already bought my house from under me.’

‘Eh?’ Sir Richard looked over at him, spraying breadcrumbs.

‘He bought my house’s lease. I had it for a seven-year term, and missed the most recent payment because I was in France with the queen. So Despenser bought it.’

‘Why? Surely he has no need of a house such as yours,’ the coroner said.

Simon smiled. Sir Richard had never been to visit him at his house, but the man would be fully aware of the nature of a stolid peasant’s home compared with the kind of fine property that Despenser was more used to. ‘You’re right. My farm is only a good-sized longhouse with a small solar. But Despenser didn’t take it because he wanted to live in it himself. It was much more to do with his desire to show me that he is my superior in every way, I think. He wanted to stamp out any rebelliousness to his will that might have remained in me. He sent a man to evict my wife, and it was the purest chance that I had returned before he could succeed. With Baldwin’s help, we caught the man and had him arrested for a while by the bishop.’

‘So you still have the house?’ Sir Richard asked.

‘No. We were forced out. I delayed matters a little by having a churchman take it, but I don’t know whether he’s still there or not. My wife should have left and gone to our old home near Sandford.’

‘Sandford?’ the coroner said with a frown.

‘It’s also known as Rookford. A small hamlet north of Crediton,’ Simon explained. ‘It is a good area. Rich red soil, good pastures, and some of the best ciders in the kingdom.’

‘You have some land there?’

‘Oh, yes. We have enough to live on. And perhaps my wife and I can live there quietly, away from the politics in that place,’ he added, jerking a thumb back over his shoulder.

Jacobstowe

Bill woke with a head that itched like a whole pack of hounds with fleas. He scratched at it with a rueful expression, but it made little difference.

‘It’ll be the midges,’ his wife said without sympathy.

‘Agnes, you have a knack for stating the blasted obvious,’ he muttered.

‘Well, I didn’t tell you to go out there and wait with the bodies, and I didn’t tell you to go out again yesterday to search for only you know what,’ his wife replied tartly. ‘What do you want from me? Sympathy? Faith, man, you should be so lucky. If you will go out at night when it’s been raining for so many evenings, what do you expect?’

He grunted and clambered to his feet. ‘I told you what the coroner said, woman. If we can only find the men who were responsible, perhaps we can visit some sort of justice on them.’

‘Oh, aye. And while you’re doing that, what about me and Ant?’ she asked.

Her back was to him, but he could hear the softness of a sob in her voice as she spoke. She was tearing up leaves for the pottage, and now he saw that she was treating them with more violence than usual. ‘Agnes, woman, stop that for a moment,’ he said, pulling on a shirt and walking to her. He slipped his arms about her waist, resting his head on her shoulder.

‘It’s all right for you, Bill Lark. You go off and search for these murderers, and you have a purpose in life, don’t you? But what of me? I am expected to wait here until you come home, but what if you don’t? You can wander about the place, and if you are hurt I have to nurse you. If you die, you rest — but what of us? We will be wasted. Me, a widow, Ant an orphan. Would you see us destitute?’

‘Woman, woman, woman, calm yourself,’ he said soothingly as she sobbed, open mouthed but quiet. ‘Be easy. Look, I will not be getting myself into any trouble. I shall be as careful as I may be, I swear. But I want to know who it was killed those people. I cannot have travellers slaughtered as they come past here, can I? Even the coroner wants to find these men. I’ve never heard of a coroner so keen to do his job.’

She could not laugh with him. There had never been a murder like this before in their little parish. ‘You are only to be bailiff until Michaelmas, Bill. Don’t go getting yourself killed between now and then just to find justice for people you never even met!’

‘I won’t. Now, is there any bread? I want something to eat. I have to walk to Hoppon’s.’

‘Why won’t you listen to me? You are to wander about the place trying to find these men, but if you do, what then? If you get them all, do you think they’ll see you walking up to them and greet you politely? Bill, you’re likely to be killed!’

‘I will be safe, don’t worry.’

‘Are you really so stubborn and stupid that you believe that?’ she had demanded, her eyes streaming.

It was an angry Bill Lark who left later. She had made him feel inadequate, as though he didn’t care about her and Ant, and that wasn’t true. He adored them both. However, he had responsibilities to the vill as well. And nineteen people had been killed here. He wasn’t happy to let that rest. If there was a possibility that he could help track them down, he should. In a strange way, he felt that the coroner’s dedication to the truth had sparked his own.

The distance to Hoppon’s little holding was short enough. Bill walked there chewing his bread with a dry mouth.

His wife was right in one thing: for most crimes there was no need to find the actual guilty party. The most important thing was that justice was seen to be exercised. In a little hamlet like this one, it was easy to find someone. Bill had heard at the court at Oakhampton that a full third of all the men accused of crimes were strangers to the area. Some reckoned that this was mere proof of the fact that strangers were unreliable, dangerous folk, and it was better that all foreigners should be watched carefully. Others, like Bill, thought that it was more proof of the fact that when there was a harvest or the need of a sturdy fellow to help with the ploughing, only a fool would seek to determine that the man best suited to the job was sadly the one who must hang for the felony he committed a while ago. If a good worker got drunk and accidentally killed a fellow in hot blood, it was better that he remained for the good of the community than that he was arrested and slain. Better to find some other likely fellow who was not so valuable to the hundred.

There was logic to this process. Logic and hard-headed rational thinking. It was the common sense of a small community that still remembered the years of famine. Yet there was still a part of Bill’s soul that rebelled at the idea.

However, in this matter, he had a calm heart and a cool head. The men who waylaid that group of travellers were not from his vill. Of that he was quite sure. There were not the people there who were capable of killing so many, and not enough who would have been prepared to see children slaughtered. No, this was no local gang.