Michael Jecks - The Chapel of Bones

One thing Vince knew, and that was that his father ought to be told. So late in the afternoon, he had invented a ruse to take him out of the house, and he had fled down the hill to the tannery. Before long he found his father, stirring skins in the handling pits.

He was panting slightly, and he caught his breath, savouring the moment that he should explain to his father what he had heard. Wymond would be delighted to hear that his impression had been vindicated, he’d be over the moon to learn that there was a witness, a credible witness, who had confessed at last.

Which was why Vince was baffled when his father listened, and then walked away, head bowed with sorrow. Vince ran after him, gabbling that all was well: Vincent his uncle was cleared, but his father waved a hand for him to go. And as Vince went, he could hear the sound of dry, racking sobs. It completely mystified him.

Baldwin threw on his clothes, washed his face in the bowl of water provided, and then followed Simon down the stairs.

‘You cannot know how glad I am to see you here,’ he said as they sat at a table. The owner’s daughter gave them bread and some cold slices of meat with a large jug of weak ale.

Simon gave a chuckle. ‘Nice to know that I’m indispensable at last.’

‘This affair is peculiar, old friend. A man suddenly appears in the Charnel Chapel, with a knife wound in the back. It’s a strange place to commit a murder.’

‘Perhaps. All I can say is, I am glad to be here,’ Simon said.

‘How is Dartmouth?’

Simon crumbled a piece of bread in his fingers. ‘It’s lonely, Baldwin. I hate living there without Meg and the children, and I worry all the time about Edith. What she won’t do in order to get her way, I don’t know, and it’s not healthy for Meg to be looking after her on her own. They both need a man about the place to stop them fighting.’

‘That’s Lydford, not Dartmouth,’ Baldwin pointed out.

‘Dartmouth is a pleasant, fresh little vill. There’s a great port and lots of ships,’ Simon said drily. ‘It’s convenient, because it means that yesterday when I heard I was required here, I was able to be directed to a ship and board it to come here swiftly, rather than making the arduous journey on horseback.’

‘You came by ship? That must have been a difficult transport!’ Baldwin joked.

‘You can smile, if you wish, Baldwin,’ Simon growled. ‘You won’t get me on another, though. Damned thing. I had to stay up on deck the whole time to stop myself throwing up, and that meant I was soaked with spray and rain by the time I landed. Foul things, boats.’

During the year the two men had travelled to Santiago de Compostela in Galicia, Simon had learned that his belly was most uncomfortable aboard ship. During their return voyage, foul weather and pirates had almost killed both men, and the memory wouldn’t fade from Simon’s mind. He passionately detested anything to do with ships, and he intended to avoid them all his life. It was particularly galling to have to resort to a ship to come here now, when he had sworn only a matter of weeks ago, on their return, never to use that means of transport ever again.

‘I am delighted to see you here, in any case,’ Baldwin said, and explained what he had so far learned about the death of the saddler.

‘So plainly we need to visit the man’s widow,’ Simon observed.

‘Yes. It is unlikely to be a pleasant encounter.’

‘A woman who’s just been made a widow is hardly likely to be congenial, no,’ Simon agreed. ‘Does this mean you’re getting to be a little less ruthless in your questioning, then? The knight who was always known for rigour bordering on callousness in the search for the truth is at last learning empathy?’

He’d only meant his words as a light jest at Baldwin’s expense, and he was surprised to see his friend was offended. Baldwin half-turned his head from Simon, and when he spoke, his voice was a great deal quieter. ‘There is nothing callous in my make-up, I hope. I try only to serve justice to the best of my ability.’

‘I didn’t mean …’ Simon was unsure how to comfort Baldwin. ‘Baldwin, I’m deeply sorry if I’ve given you offence. I wouldn’t have dreamed of it, you know that.’

‘Yes, of course. I’m just feeling rather fragile at present. It is the effect of coming here when I should be at home with my own wife.’

‘I can understand that,’ Simon grunted. ‘In any case, my apologies if I’ve upset you, old friend. I’d never want to do that.’

‘I know,’ Baldwin said with a faint smile. ‘And now, to our food.’

Mabilla was finishing her morning meal when she heard the bang on the door. Her heart sank as she heard the two voices. She looked down at her full board and hurriedly finished her dish of a tart and some apple.

This was a most inconsiderate hour to visit a lady, she told herself. At this time of day, civilised people returned from their early Mass to take something to break their fast, just as she had, and to turn up at a woman’s doorstep now meant that there was serious business afoot. To her mind, that could only mean men who intended to demand money from her, supposedly because her poor darling husband owed it. Well, they’d soon learn the position, if they’d come here for that, damn them!

Hearing the knocking, Julia entered from the solar where she had been resting, and Mabilla felt her anger rising. Julia was looking particularly pale today. Usually such a complexion would be a sign of perfection in the opinion of most men, but today it was merely evidence, along with her red eyes, of her misery. She hadn’t slept well last night again. Mabilla had heard her bedclothes rustling in the little truckle bed, and felt the floorboards move as she tossed and turned. Although she was being courageous about her marriage to Udo, it wasn’t ideal, as Mabilla herself knew. If she could, she’d have tried to snare the man herself. She wasn’t such a poor catch, surely … but he wanted a woman in order to start breeding his own line, and Mabilla’s days of childbirth were behind her now.

Her poor, darling daughter. There was a look of resignation on her face as she entered the room, followed by a too-bright smile. She hadn’t eaten anything yet today. Mabilla must make sure that she ate later. This starvation was all very well, but it’d be certain to weaken her.

Julia faced the door, and then, as she heard the voices, she threw a look at her mother in confusion. ‘I thought …’

‘It’s not Udo,’ Mabilla said as her maid walked in with two men behind her.

‘Mistress, this is Sir Baldwin de Furnshill, the Keeper of the King’s Peace, and Bailiff Simon Puttock. They want to talk to you.’

‘Godspeed, madam,’ said Simon, walking around the maid and looking at Mabilla. ‘I am afraid that Sir Baldwin and I are here to speak to you about your husband’s death. The Dean of the Cathedral has asked us to come to Exeter and investigate the murder. We’re here to find his killer.’

Mabilla’s attention went from him to the other man, the knight. He looked more stern, but there was something else in his face. He had dark eyes and a little beard that followed the line of his jaw. There were flecks of white in it, and a little dusting of more at his temples. A fine scar ran down his face, and it caught slightly at his mouth, twisting it up ever so slightly, she saw, giving him a very faintly cynical expression. Yet there was that little something else flickering in his eyes, she thought: vulnerability.

‘We should like to hear what you can tell us about the day your husband died,’ he said, ‘but we also need to know anything else that might have a bearing. Did he have any enemies in the city? Was he involved in a legal dispute? Did he owe money? Anything at all may help us to find his murderer.’