Michael Jecks - The Tolls of Death

‘A close friend of Richer?’ Simon wondered.

‘Seems close enough …’ Ivo said, but added, ‘for a man who’s Richer’s master. That Richer’s just a mounted warrior, when all’s said and done. They’ve been through some things together, though.’

‘Why should you say that?’ Baldwin asked.

‘Just looking at them, you can tell. They mix with others when they want, but not too often, and more often they’ll stay together talking low, away from anyone as might listen. They seem to trust each other, though. Warin often seems wary of others, but he’ll go to talk to Richer; Richer looks to Warin when he feels threatened, too.’

‘You’ve seen him threatened?’ Baldwin asked.

‘When you were with him this morning,’ Ivo said. ‘Soon as you were gone, he went to the bar for a whet, but when he came out, he saw Warin and the two of them went into a little huddle to discuss things. It’s not the first time I’ve seen them do that.’

Baldwin and Simon exchanged a look. Simon was interested in what the lad had said, but he could see Baldwin was reluctant to discuss matters in front of Ivo. He hadn’t got over his initial revulsion during the ride here. In case Baldwin was going to forget the information, Simon said, ‘We’ve heard from the priest at Temple that the maid, Julia, has taken up with the man who was supporting Athelina.’

‘Yeah. But she wouldn’t tell me who it was,’ Ivo said. ‘Why, do you want me to see if I can persuade her?’

Baldwin grunted. ‘If you can find out, it may help us. Otherwise we’ll have to talk to her. Now, can you take our mounts for us and get them groomed?’ When Ivo had gone, he continued: ‘It seems curious to me that Warin and Richer should have turned up here just before these killings began. All those years away, and presumably this vill was quiet enough, with just the odd accidental death, like Serlo’s apprentice, and now suddenly there is this rash of murders.’

The Coroner rejoined them at this moment, accompanied by his clerk. ‘What is this? Don’t tell me that odious little man had something useful to impart?’

‘It is curious,’ Baldwin said coolly, ‘how the shabbiest fellow can occasionally point the way. Take this one: he says that Richer has a good friend who is a squire. The two arrived here together, apparently, and are close companions. Even now they discuss much together.’

‘You make them sound like confederates!’ Jules said. Roger said nothing, but his eyes were heavily lidded as he watched Baldwin.

‘Perhaps I do,’ Baldwin said. ‘It is natural that Richer should come here because of his childhood; a man will often return to the place of his birth — but what is his companion doing here?’

‘Surely no man of any intelligence would think of returning to Cardinham!’ Jules said dismissively. ‘This fellow Richer could have made himself wealthy elsewhere if he had had a mind to work. Why come here ?’

Baldwin swallowed his anger. He himself had returned to the manor where he had been raised when the Temple was dissolved. There was nowhere else for him to go. Of course, like all aspiring knights, he had been brought up elsewhere, in a household where he could learn his duties and skills, but still he had wanted to return to his birthplace. It was just as well he did so too, for only when he arrived there did he learn that his older brother, who had inherited their father’s estates, had died, and that he was now the lord of the manor.

‘Some,’ he said, ‘would surely look upon the place of their birth with affection. Even this man Richer, who had seen his family die here, must have felt a strong tug. And if his friend was in any way troubled, it would be natural for Richer to bring him here as well.’

‘Come now! If this fellow Warin is the more senior of the two — and you say he is a squire? — he would have suggested a place for them to go,’ Jules said.

‘Unless,’ Roger put in, ‘Warin had nowhere to go.’

‘What do you mean?’ Baldwin asked.

‘If a man sought to evade justice, this vill would be a good, secure hiding-place,’ Roger said, and then he set his head on one side. ‘I recall Richer, when you spoke to him earlier, immediately saying that he could have had no part in the freeing of the man Mortimer from the Tower, for example.’

‘So?’ Baldwin pressed him.

Jules intervened, frowning darkly. ‘Surely you don’t mean that this man could be … But as he himself said, it would take days to get here after leaving London.’

‘We don’t know exactly when Mortimer escaped from London,’ Roger said reasonably. ‘It could be that he was out of prison weeks ago, and news has only now filtered here. We are not,’ he added, gazing about him, ‘on the main thoroughfare. We are beyond those lands which most would consider civilised.’

Simon was grinning. ‘You mean to say Squire Warin could be Lord Mortimer? But he’s one of the most famous men in the country! How could he hope to travel here without being seen? His face is well-known, surely? He was one of King Edward’s most trusted advisers and friends!’

Roger said grimly, ‘And now he is a homeless wanderer, accused of Grand Treason, reviled by the King, detested by all who may come across him. He-’

‘Yes, I know,’ Simon interrupted. ‘But surely he couldn’t hope to walk abroad without being recognised and arrested.’

‘He has gone somewhere,’ Roger pointed out.

‘He will have gone to the Low Countries,’ Baldwin said with certainty.

‘Would you recognise him?’ Roger asked Simon.

‘Me? Me? Of course not! I’ve never been to London or York,’ Simon laughed.

‘Nor would I. Nor any man here, I should think,’ Roger said pensively. ‘So this would be a perfect place for such a man to conceal himself.’

‘This is ridiculous!’ Simon expostulated. ‘Here we are, three King’s officers and a clerk too, and although we know a man should be taken, none of us can tell whether this man is in fact the one whom we seek! Coroner, do you have a description?’

‘There may be one waiting when I return home to Bodmin,’ Jules said. ‘But I’ve heard nothing of this since I came here.’

The four men stared at each other, and then Baldwin gave a secret grin and resorted to studying the ground at their feet rather than meet the others’ eyes. The other three felt the same trepidation at the thought that the kingdom’s most notorious criminal could be here with them, but, for his money, Baldwin was quite sure that Mortimer had fled across the Channel. From the Tower it would be easy to climb into a small boat and take off along the Thames to meet with a larger ship to cross to the Continent. Far safer.

Some delight was afforded him in the expression of alarm on Sir Jules’s face, although he was more amused still by the look of doubtful horror on Simon’s.

‘There is little chance that this Squire Warin is Sir Roger Mortimer,’ he said at last. ‘But I for one would be glad to learn what the man has to say about his presence. Who is he, and why is he here?’

At that moment, the focus of Sir Baldwin’s interest was in the vill with Richer; the two men were strolling along the roadway towards the tavern. They passed the lane which led down to Alexander’s house and the mill, and soon after there was the church. Richer was tempted to enter, but Warin reminded him that Serlo’s widow would probably still be inside, watching over the body of her son. Richer regretfully agreed to go there later, when the woman had gone home.

At the point where they must turn right to go to the tavern, Richer stopped and glanced back the way they had come. He was almost sure he saw a figure dart in among the shrubs and bushes which lined the roads, and for a moment, he nearly called Warin’s attention to it. However, the squire was already striding towards the alehouse, and Richer told himself not to be such a fool. It was his nerves, that was all. He was anxious because of the way his old enemy had suddenly died, leaving him as the clear suspect.