Michael Jecks - A Friar's bloodfeud

‘Where is the friar?’

‘He’s outside making sure we’re safe and no one’s trying to find us.’

‘Oh.’

‘What would you have done? Were you thinking you could stay here for ever?’

‘Hmm? What, there at the chapel? No, I suppose not. I think I did mean to rob Isaac and the church when I went to him in the first place. But then I grew to like him, and the people down here. It’s a good little vill, Monkleigh. There are some arseholes, but most of the peasants are as good as any. I started to think that if I robbed the church, all I’d be doing would be taking money from them. The Church would demand compensation for any thefts from the place, and those fines would fall on all the poorest people in the vill. Fines always do.’

Hugh grunted agreement.

‘What will you do?’ Humphrey asked at last.

Hugh looked up at him, then out through the door, and lastly up at the sky overhead.

‘I … I don’t know,’ he admitted brokenly. ‘Someone killed my woman, and I want revenge — but how can I learn who killed her?’

‘You were lucky to remain alive,’ Humphrey said without thinking.

‘Lucky?’ Hugh spat. He jumped to his feet and strode to Humphrey. ‘I saw her die, and her son, and they knocked me down and left me for dead.’

‘I didn’t mean to insult you, friend,’ Humphrey said desperately.

The raised voice had alerted John. He stood in the doorway, his gaze going from one to the other. When he spoke, his voice was calm. ‘Hugh, there’s no need to lose your temper with him.’

‘I know!’ Hugh said, spinning on his heel and leaving the cowering priest lying at the foot of the wall. ‘It’s just … why did they leave me alive?’

‘As a symbol? You were a living message to others that they should be fearful. Some men have minds that work in that way.’

Hugh tested his leg. It was all but mended now, and he grunted with satisfaction. ‘They’ll regret it.’

‘Now, Hugh,’ John said, entering the room and sitting near the fire. ‘What do you plan to do?’

‘I want to find the man who had Constance killed.’

‘And I want the man who killed Lucy of Meeth. Perhaps they are the same?’

‘Perhaps.’

‘Then we can work together to find him.’

Sir Geoffrey slammed the door and walked out into the open area before the hall when he heard the riders thundering down the lane towards him. At first all he could see was the steam rising as a form of heat-haze in the lane, beyond his old hedge. Then there were the two leather caps of his bodyguards, whom he had sent in order to make sure that none of the men tried to desert, then the horses breasted the entrance, and he could see them all. There in the middle was Sir Edward with his hair moving from side to side as the wind caught the short strands. A vain man, Sir Geoffrey thought, and vain men always had their weaknesses.

‘And?’

‘I almost had him,’ Sir Edward said with a bitter shake of his head. ‘I had him in the palm of my hand, and the priest defended him. The damned knight from Furnshill stood up to me as well and it seemed sensible not to force the issue. Especially with Sir Odo’s men all around.’

‘I understand,’ Sir Geoffrey said, and turned on his heel.

‘Wait! What do you mean by that?’ Coroner Edward demanded. He had dropped from his horse, and now he stepped up to Sir Geoffrey in a hurry. ‘Are you suggesting something?’

‘I dare say many would be scared to think that they could be bested in a church,’ Sir Geoffrey said harshly. ‘All you had to do was bring him back here so that we could judge him here, on our land. And if we found he was guilty, we could have hanged him here.’

‘You don’t have the right!’

‘I can impose a death sentence if the coroner is present to hear it, and I can hang a man if the coroner is there to witness it. Don’t tell me my rights, Sir Edward! I have been here longer than you! I know the ancient rights of this manor, and I know your job too. I was a coroner before you were born!’

Sir Edward blinked. He had not anticipated such a storm of rage over losing the man. ‘He is in the church. He will be permitted to abjure, if he wishes.’

‘Abjure my arse ! I want him here to answer our questions. I want to know why that girl was in the mire in the first place.’

‘Really?’ Sir Edward said, and he cocked an eyebrow. So far as he could see, Sir Geoffrey was building up an alibi and creating an environment in which his own determination to discover the culprit could not be in doubt. It was clever, the coroner thought, but hardly clever enough. ‘You know that Keeper? He has the reputation of a man who sees the truth no matter how well hidden. He is supposed to be honourable.’

‘All men are honourable until they need money,’ Sir Geoffrey snapped.

‘What will you do now?’

‘Cause that poor soul to be returned to her manor to be buried, and then I shall do what I should have done yesterday.’

‘What is that?’

‘Attack Sir Odo’s places this side of the river with all my men. I’ve had enough of this flouncing about in case someone is offended.’

‘You cannot mean that? You’ll start a war on Sir Odo’s lands?’

‘You’ve realised nothing, have you?’ Sir Geoffrey spat. He turned, thumbs stuck in his belt, and stared at the coroner. ‘You think I’m devious and manipulative, and I’ve set up all this machinery just so that I can take the spoils … but what if it’s shown that I am little better than a felon and a cutpurse? Oh, I will win the king’s pardon, no doubt, but that will be some while away. And in the meantime I’ll be an outlaw. You think I want that? Someone has been acting with great skill and determination to make me look like a murderer. The death of the woman from Meeth, the murder of the family in Iddesleigh, the murder of my own damned sergeant — all done to point to my guilt. Can’t you even understand that?’

Sir Edward nodded slowly. ‘And you think that this was all Sir Odo’s doing?’

‘I’ll spring a surprise on him that he will never forget. He wanted to make me outlaw? I’ll return the gift with compliments. He will regret the day he sought to put the blame for these deaths on me!’

‘So you are Perkin?’ Baldwin said.

The body had been deposited in the church with Matthew, and now they were at the inn with quarts of ale before them all. Simon was glaring balefully at the fire, and for some reason Edgar was looking amused. Baldwin had hissed at him to wipe the grin off his face, but to no avail.

Perkin sat uneasily in this company. ‘Yes …’

‘Stop fidgeting, man!’ Baldwin growled. ‘I’m not going to hurt you, but I want to hear from you all about the death of Ailward, and of Lady Lucy, too.’

Simon leaned forward. ‘But first, what can you tell us about the murder of the man up the way from here? Hugh Shepherd, his wife and their boy were all killed. Do you know anything about that?’

Shaking his head, Perkin said, ‘If I knew anything, I would tell you, on my oath. It was one of those nights when I was. . tired. I had been working hard all the day, and when I finished I went to my friend Beorn’s house and drank with him. He had some ale that had to be finished so he could put another brew on. There was rather more than I’d expected, or it was stronger than I was used to, and I slept well that night. It was last Saturday, I think?’

Baldwin looked up at Jankin, who nodded.

Perkin continued: ‘We all saw the men riding off in the late afternoon, and we wondered where they were going, but they set off down towards the river. Of course we know now where they were heading: to Robert Crokers’s house. Sir Geoffrey and Sir Odo have been bickering about that bit of land for some while. Sir Geoffrey claims that it’s part of the old estate and should have been passed to him when the lands were taken.’