Michael Jecks - The Malice of Unnatural Death

‘Well?’ Sir Richard snapped. ‘Be quick, man! I have been working too long already today and need my rest and relaxation. Youare delaying me!’

‘Coroner, I have been told to come here to bring the necromancer to the sheriff. He is not to be tolerated any longer.’

‘He isn’t, eh?’ Sir Richard said with a sidelong look at Baldwin. ‘He is in my custody at this moment, and he’s staying withme.’

‘Sir Matthew wants me to take him. There are some matters about him which make the sheriff demand that you turn him over tohis personal custody, sir.’

Coroner Richard’s face underwent a rapid change. The benevolent expression with which he had been surveying the world suddenlybecame as bellicose as a Bishop of Winchester’s whore’s when she learns her client has no money.

‘You tell me that you are demanding this fellow when I have already said he’s safe with me?’

Baldwin quickly interjected. ‘Sir Richard, this fellow has no responsibility in the matter. He is only the messenger. Perhapswe should go with him to see the sheriff.’

‘That man?’ Sir Richard muttered with a leery glare at the sergeant. ‘Very well.’

The sergeant walked to Langatre and took his upper arm in his fist. ‘Try anything and I’ll brain you,’ he said.

Baldwin shook his head. ‘At the moment, sergeant, he is in my and the coroner’s custody, not the sheriff’s, and not yours. You will release him now.’

‘I have my orders, sir.’

‘I have no doubt you do. However, my orders to you are to release him. This fellow is innocent of the murder, and I for one want toknow what the sheriff wishes to speak to him for, but I will not have him paraded through the streets like a common felon. I hope that is clear.’

North-East Dartmoor

In the event, it was Rob who succumbed to the cold first and went into the shelter to sleep.

They had set off travelling light, but Simon always ensured that he was prepared for foul weather. He could still rememberone of his earliest experiences on the moors, when he had ridden out on his old bay rounsey and been caught by a sudden mist.

The fogs could appear from nowhere, and when they came down a man was hard pressed to know anything: the compass, his direction,even whether he was going up-or downhill. It was disorientating to be so completely lost, and for a lad as young as he hadbeen, perhaps only nine years or so, quite scary.

Ever since then, he always took more clothing and provisions than he thought he might need when he crossed the moors. Usuallythere was no problem for him. After all, he knew all the miners and where they lived, so in the worst case he could usuallyfind someone to provide him with a refuge, but every so often, like today, that was not possible. And here he was now in arude shelter with two others who had little experience of such affairs.

Rob’s feet looked all right in the firelight, although Simon would be happier when he had checked them again in the morning,but he was anxious enough about the lad to give him his thicker blanket and his spare riding cloak for protection. Rob wearily crawled into the shelter, and Simon could see him wrapping himself up before resting his head on athick pile of leaves. In a short space of time there was regular snoring from inside.

‘You are a very capable man,’ Busse observed after a few moments.

‘A man does what he must. Only a fool is unprepared on the moors.’

‘I can quite understand why the good Abbot Robert, bless his memory, put so much trust in you.’

‘I am grateful, but I have done nothing that any other Devon man used to the moors would not have done.’

‘Do not belittle your skills, my friend. It is plain to me that you see and understand much about this land. More than most.’

Simon shrugged. ‘I have spent a lot of time on the moors since I was a child.’

‘I have been spending as much time up here as I can since I arrived too, of course, but I’ve only been here — what? maybetwelve, thirteen years? I have nothing like your experience.’

‘Yes, well, you are a monk. You can hardly expect to gather as much knowledge about the moors as someone who’s worked on themfor as long as me,’ Simon said uncomfortably. After all he had heard from John de Courtenay, he didn’t feel he could trustthis man, no matter that he had such an apparently amiable disposition, or that his behaviour so far had given Simon no reasonto mistrust him.

‘What would you like to do when the new abbot is installed?’

‘Me?’

‘Yes. From all I’ve seen of you, you aren’t a man suited to sitting in a customs house and counting coins. When you are in the town,you have an appearance of frustration, as though you want to be away, but here … here you look like a man in his element.’

Simon had to control himself. It was too tempting to let his jaw drop. No one else had ever noticed his irritation and dissatisfactionwith the job in Dartmouth, he was sure. ‘I certainly like the moors,’ he said cautiously.

‘So I always believed! I never thought you were ideal for the post of keeper of the port. So, if I were to become abbot, wouldyou prefer me to put you back up here as bailiff? It is entirely up to you, but if you wish it, let me know and I’ll do what I can.’

‘Do you think you will win the election?’

Busse was blowing on his hands. Now he stopped and held them to the fire, looking away from Simon as he did so. His eyes werecrinkled at the corners, and he smiled faintly as he spoke.

‘Oh, don’t listen to what others say, Bailiff. Just because a man is born to a noble family doesn’t mean that he is himselfvery noble. I know the sort of rumour that brother John has been spreading against me, and I will not allow it to upset me. Better, I think, for me to behave as a real monk should, and continue to perform my duties to the best of my ability, ratherthan sinking to low political rumour-mongering.’

‘I didn’t mean …’ Simon began, distressed to think that he had been so transparent.

‘Of course you did, and you would be right to worry about me, too. If I were to become the new abbot, and if I were a thiefor an untrustworthy soul in any way, I would merit caution from any man. Naturally. But I say this, Bailiff,’ and now he turned and faced Simon, still with the littlesmile on his lips, but with shrewd, serious eyes, ‘I say this: I am no liar, fraud or thief. I seek only to do the best Imay for the abbey and for God. I have no other interests. However, I am driven by one consideration, one motivation that urgesme on with ever greater determination.’

Simon nodded. ‘And that is?’

‘Dear God in heaven! To keep that blasted idiot de Courtenay out of it, of course! You know how the abbey was when Abbot Robertwas first elected?’

Simon could smile at that. Abbot Robert had taken on an abbey that was collapsing under its debts. His first act had beento borrow money to maintain the fabric of the place. And now? At his death it was probably the wealthiest institution in thewhole of Devon.

‘Precisely. The abbey is safe for now — but if brother John takes on the abbacy, how long would that last? He would spendall he could on his wine and his hunting. Under him, I could imagine Tavistock having the best bloodlines of every rache,alaunt and rounsey in the country, but no money to buy candles or bread! God forbid that that spendthrift and fool shouldever be in charge of the place.’

A little while later, he apologised to Simon, but begging the age of his bones and his inexperience of such long days he crawledinto the shelter and rolled himself up in his own blanket, close to Rob.

It was hard to know what was best to do in these circumstances, Simon told himself. De Courtenay had been right when he told Simon that Simon had a loyalty to the family. His father had been so devoted, it was hard for Simon to consider being evenremotely disloyal. And yet Busse had hit the nail on the head when he spoke about the man’s interests. Simon didn’t know de Courtenay intimately, buthe was quite sure that the man would be an unmitigated disaster if he was responsible for the abbey’s finances.