Michael Jecks - No Law in the Land

‘Shit, I yield!’

‘I should finish you now!’ Simon said from clenched teeth. ‘Where is she? Where is my daughter?’

‘Right here, master. Why, did you think we’d lost her?’ Basil said, and Simon turned to see Edith gripped by the neck, his sword resting on her perfect white throat, her eyes wide with utter terror.

If there had been more men here, Baldwin would have been more alarmed, but as it was, the majority of the guards and servants had been outside and defending the yard from the flames. None had a bow or gonne with them, and not many had so much as a sword. There were three or four who bore axes, but they had been so completely surprised that two had already been struck down, and the two remaining had hurriedly dropped their weapons.

Baldwin had seen Simon rush for the door to the hall, but before he followed, he went to the figure lying on the ground near the burning barn. ‘Well, this is a pretty sight,’ he murmured, looking at the gaping wound where Osbert’s sword had made its mark.

He peered around to look at the man’s face and was surprised to recognise him. ‘William atte Wattere,’ he breathed.

Standing, he saw the monk nearby, gazing about him with a pitiable expression of shock on his face. ‘Mark, brother, will you look after this fellow for me, please? He may be of some use to us.’

‘Will he live?’

‘Long enough, I hope, to feel the hangman’s rope about his neck. This is the evil character who kidnapped Simon’s daughter. Where he is, she will probably be near,’ Baldwin said. He wiped a little of the sweat from his brow. It was almost unbearably hot in the yard. The enclosing walls concentrated the heat, and turned the space into an oven.

About him he saw that Edgar and Sir Richard had herded all the men from the yard into one corner, and although there were some seventeen of them, the two men were nonchalant in the way they held their weapons. It was obvious that none of the men they had captured relished the prospect of throwing themselves at them.

Baldwin was content that the two could easily cope with the cowed guards, and hurried after Simon. He was about to rush in through the door when Simon appeared, walking backwards, his sword in the hands of Sir Robert de Traci. Baldwin swore under his breath, and would have run to conceal himself, but Sir Robert saw him and jerked his chin. ‘You too, Sir Keeper. Your sword on the ground now.’

‘No.’

Baldwin saw Simon’s agonised expression, but it would not affect him. He kept a firm hold on his weapon as two more figures appeared in the doorway: one was the one-eyed man, the other the knight’s son, who held in his hand Simon’s daughter.

‘Edith,’ Baldwin called. ‘Are you quite well? Have these men hurt you in any way?’

Basil taunted him with his response. ‘You think we’d have tainted the little wench? Nay, Sir Knight. She’s still unsullied, so far as we can tell. Who knows what she has been getting up to in Exeter while her husband’s away, though, eh? Good little rump on her, this filly. Have you seen the way she can jiggle it? Like two rats in a sack when she walks, by my faith! And those lovely titties. So entrancing. You want to try her? We haven’t damaged her yet, so if you want her, you may be able to-’

‘Basil, shut up,’ his father growled. ‘Sir Baldwin, I think I said you should put down your sword?’

Baldwin eyed him. He was too close to Simon for safety. Edith was close by the knight’s son, too, and she was in great danger. Basil’s sword lay across her throat, the sharpened blade touching her neck. She had a cloak on, loosely thrown over her shoulders, he saw, but the blade was above that. ‘Sir Richard, Edgar, do not drop your swords. Clear?’

‘Sir,’ Edgar responded.

Sir Richard grunted and kept tight hold of his own weapon.

‘There, Sir Robert,’ Baldwin said. ‘I feel we are at an impasse. I will not drop my sword, and you will not pass me to escape while I hold it.’

‘You will drop it, Keeper, because if you don’t, I shall tell my son to start removing pieces of that woman. Perhaps first we should see her shamed? Shall we strip her of all her clothing, Basil?’

Simon gave a tortured roar: ‘ No! ’

‘Oh? You prefer that we should gradually remove every finger?’

Simon turned to Baldwin. ‘They’ll kill her! You must throw down the sword, Baldwin. If you love me, old friend, please. I beg.’

‘Simon, I cannot. If we all give up our swords, they will kill us all. That will not aid Edith.’

‘What, you enter my castle, you have your accomplice burn my damned barns and stables, you rush my hall, and you say that I am the villain? Dear Christ in chains, you have a bold mouth on you, Sir Baldwin,’ Sir Robert expostulated. The spittle flew from his mouth as he spoke. ‘I am here without harming any, and yet you do so much damage.’

‘We had no accomplice in your midst,’ Baldwin said.

‘No? That man who tried to destroy my castle wasn’t yours?’ he sneered.

‘No. He brought Simon’s daughter here to you, did he not? And you held her here. Perhaps you have seen her raped, treated shamefully, to satisfy your greed.’

‘My greed? You fool! Dear heaven, I call on you to witness this imbecile! The girl was to be kept here safely, just so that pressure could be brought to bear on her father. That was all. There was a need.’

‘What need?’ Baldwin demanded.

‘To protect the realm. It was only to guard Devon against Mortimer in case he tried to invade from here. Who else causes so much trouble and fear?’

‘How would your holding Edith help guard Devon?’

‘Tavistock. If this girl’s father was anxious enough, it was thought that he would persuade the monks there to support the man who would be the stronger, more suitable abbot.’

‘So for that, to effectually play with the election of an abbot, you were prepared to hold a young woman indefinitely?’ Baldwin said. His contempt dripped from his voice. ‘And you killed all the men at the woods just in order to reap the profit?’

‘What men in the woods?’

Baldwin stared at him hard. ‘The men whose money was taken. Women and children, monks and guards. You killed them all.’

‘I don’t know what you are talking about. I didn’t kill anyone and take their money. What, do you think I am a common felon?’

‘Not very common, no,’ Baldwin said.

Sir Robert gave a slanted smile. ‘Very well, I admit that we did tickle them up a little. But there was no money to steal. We spent long enough looking for the goddamned coin, but it wasn’t there.’

‘Then where is it?’

‘If I knew that,’ Sir Robert said with chilly certainty, ‘I would have brought it here. I didn’t, so I couldn’t. Now, enough of this bickering. Will you let me pass?’

‘No,’ Baldwin said. ‘Not with hostages. Either you give them up, or I will prevent you from leaving.’

‘Basil, you can remove her shift and tunic. Let us see what she is made of, eh?’ Sir Robert said.

But just then there was a howl from behind him, and Sir Robert spun, recognising the sound of his son’s voice.

‘ No! ’ Simon roared, and lunged. His left hand slapped at the blade, knocking it away, and he was at Sir Robert’s throat.

The knight had not expected so simple a manoeuvre, and he was forced to stagger backwards even as he saw his son lift his hands to his face, saw the blood gushing from his eye, heard the sword rattling on the ground, and saw the girl stoop, pick up the blade and thrust it into Basil’s body, just under his ribs, a loose, inaccurate stab that wouldn’t kill, but might hurt like blazes … and then he felt an odd, uncomfortable, dragging sensation in his breast, and found that there was a peculiar tingling in his knees and a hollowness in his belly. He slipped to the ground, staring dumbly at the oily sheen on his sword blade. There was something wrong about it, he was sure, and as he gazed down, he realised that the blade was protruding from his own chest.