Michael Jecks: City of Fiends

His eyes filled with tears as he looked at his brother’s body.

‘What do you have to say, bottler?’

John looked at him and said truculently, ‘I saw a man trying to attack my mistress’s son. What else should I do, sir? I stopped him.’

‘With an axe,’ Baldwin noted. He glanced at John’s belt. ‘You never wear a knife, do you?’

‘I have little need. All my knives are in the house. Who would try to attack me, or rob me ?’ he sneered. ‘Now, can I go?’

‘You just killed a man,’ Baldwin said.

‘In protecting another. You saw that. Philip Marsille was attacking Master Gregory. You saw him move forwards and try to slay Master Gregory.’

‘Yes. I would have used the back of the axe to hit him and stop him, however,’ Baldwin said. ‘There was no need to kill him.’

‘Perhaps you are more experienced in such affairs.’

‘Perhaps,’ Baldwin agreed.

‘It’s not fair,’ William said. ‘Philip was only trying to avenge us. They robbed us of everything. All we had, they took from us. It’s not justice that Philip was killed.’

‘It’s not justice?’ Simon shouted. ‘There’s a dead priest there, boy, that is not justice ! Your brother behaved like a felon, and he paid the price here on earth. You have to pray that a priest will perform the last rites over him and save his soul, because otherwise he’s beyond salvation!’

‘God wouldn’t punish him for an accident. And Laurence died happily. He was miserable.’

‘Why?’

‘Well, Philip thought he was a sodomite with Gregory, but Laurence loved Agatha. He said so as he died. It was the last thing he said. And Gregory couldn’t even leave that. He had to taunt Philip even with that.’

‘I heard,’ Simon said. He looked over to where Gregory had returned and stood contemplating the two bodies in the roadway. ‘You! Paffard! Come here.’

‘Why? Do you wish to take my words already? Shouldn’t we wait for the Coroner?’

Baldwin said, ‘We shall hear your testimony as soon as the Coroner arrives, but there’s no point in standing out here. William, and you, Gregory, come into the house now.’

The bottler looked as though he was about to refuse entry to William, but all were startled by the sound of Thomas’s voice, overhead, screaming high and shrill.

Paffards’ House

The room was whirling slowly. It was just as Sir Charles remembered when he was young, and very drunk. In those days, to shut his eyes had been hazardous, and now the same sensations were assailing him. And he was so very tired.

‘Move. Out of the way, woman,’ he said, his words slurred.

She stood with her sword ready, but in her eyes there was only terror for her son. ‘Leave him – take me,’ she entreated. ‘He’s so little.’

‘He’s more valuable than you,’ Sir Charles said. He moved around her, so his back was to the door, and then made his way, step by halting step, along the corridor. ‘Don’t forget, I can stab quick as a snake, and he’s dead. You can do nothing to stop me. One mistaken move, woman, and you lose your son.’

He was almost at the stairs, when he heard the running boots below, and he felt a small thrill to know that this was finally his end. They wouldn’t let him leave. Casting about him at the hall, he noted the woodwork. It was good workmanship, he thought dreamily. Perhaps if he had been trained as a carpenter, he would have been happier: with a skill that did not involve fighting, with a livelihood that did not depend upon killing.

He stood with his back to the wall as Baldwin came rushing up the stairs. Mistress Paffard was still to his right. ‘Mistress, please have your son back,’ he rasped. The pain in his side was growing. It was as if the whole of his right side had been seared in a forge, and it felt worse inside than out. He was dying, he knew, but he also knew it could take hours of agony.

‘Sir Charles, please submit,’ Baldwin said.

‘Sir Baldwin, I have known happy times with you,’ Sir Charles said. ‘From Galicia, to the Isle of Ennor, to Cornwall, we were companions for many miles. I think you know me well enough to know I will not throw down my weapon. It’s not my way.’

‘Nevertheless, as Keeper of the King’s Peace, I demand that you yield.’

‘Damn you!’ Sir Charles managed, and smiled. It was easier to do that than to lift his sword. He used both hands, and charged at Sir Baldwin.

Baldwin stepped to the side and as Sir Charles ran on, Baldwin thrust his sword forwards and up, so that the point entered Sir Charles’s neck just above the collar of his tunic, and the blow pierced his spine. His body clattered to the ground at Baldwin’s feet.

Paffards’ House

They congregated in the hall while the jury arrived to view the bodies. There was a subdued atmosphere, and Baldwin was as aware of it as any. He had another man’s blood on his hands now. There had been many times in the past when he had been forced to kill a man, but rarely had he been so aware of the shame that came with a killing. Sir Charles had not been a threat to anyone, he was sure. The man was already more than half-dead.

‘Are you all right?’ Simon asked.

Baldwin glanced up. He had been staring at his sword, which was wiped clean of Sir Charles’s blood, but which he had not resheathed since the short fight. ‘Yes. Only regretful that another man had to die.’

‘There have been too many already,’ Simon said. ‘Still, I think Sir Charles was glad it was you. He knew you wouldn’t miss.’

‘Perhaps so,’ Baldwin agreed. ‘He certainly did not try to protect himself. Even a child could have done more to parry my effort.’

‘He didn’t want to,’ Simon said.

Baldwin had not considered that. It was some sort of relief to think that the man had been willing to see Baldwin as the agent of his death. And a responsibility, too.

A knocking at the door caused him to look up. The familiar bellowing voice could not be mistaken, and a short while later Sir Richard was in the hall with them.

‘Well, Sir Baldwin, I think we are closer to the truth about Paffard now,’ he said when he heard that Sir Charles was dead. ‘This feller went to the gaol, and there he managed to murder Henry Paffard. Aye, I am sorry, Mistress Paffard, but he had to silence your man. Paffard himself was giving information to Sir Charles. It was his messages told Sir Charles where the Bishop was goin’ to be. That’s how he knew to kill him. From what we heard, it was their plan to liberate the Bishop’s treasure and gold to help the Dunheved brothers and Sir Edward of Caernarfon. That much money would buy them a lot of support.’

Baldwin nodded. It was a simple enough plan, but could have been strikingly effective. If the money had been successfully brought to the Dunheveds, it would have purchased them many more men.

‘What now?’ Simon said.

Baldwin sighed. ‘It will take time to document all that has happened today.’

Sir Richard sucked on his teeth. ‘I think you should be cautious before writing anything down. If news of Paffard and Sir Charles’s plan was to become common currency, there could be repercussions. With a new Sheriff needed, we could have a hard man placed here, charged with cowing the city to ensure that no similar plots could be entertained. I would think it’d be safer to forget much of what has happened.’

‘If the Coroner is in agreement,’ Baldwin said. ‘I shall ask him.’

Sir Richard nodded and then, his expression softening, he gestured towards Wolf. ‘You ought to be careful there, Baldwin. Before long, you will lose your hound, at this rate.’

‘I think that boy is desperate for a dog of his own,’ Baldwin agreed.