Mel Starr - Rest Not in Peace

“What say you? You believe me guilty of malfeasance?”

Had Isobel feared me I would have no straight answer from her. She looked at me for a moment and evidently decided that she had no cause for worry, not being suspected herself, and apparently no longer concerned that she was suspect in the taking of Lord Gilbert’s silver.

“I know nothing of wounds and remedies and such,” she said.

“I may be responsible, then?”

“I think not. I saw Sir John’s blood spattered upon the wall.”

“Which of Lady Margery’s attendants then do you believe closest to the truth?”

Isobel thought on the question for some time, then spoke. “None,” she said softly.

“Then you must suspect some other man… or woman.”

Isobel did not respond. I spoke again. “Who did Sir Henry and Sir John so anger that the angered person would do murder?”

“Many folk,” Isobel finally said.

“How so?”

“Sir Henry served as Commissioner of Laborers.”

I wondered how, insolvent as he was, Sir Henry had found funds to purchase the post from the King. Borrowed, probably.

“Many men serve the King’s justice,” I said. “Few are done to death.”

“Few enforce the Statute of Laborers as did Sir Henry,” she said.

“Ah… he was rigorous in preventing the commons from seeking to better themselves?”

“More than that.”

“More? What do you mean?”

“He was known to extort unjust fines from tenants and laborers, and would send any who would not pay to the stocks or his dungeon.”

“Is this more than rumor?”

“Aye. There were always men jailed in his manor. Some for a few days, others for a fortnight or more, ’til they paid their fines.”

If Sir Henry had indeed borrowed to buy his post, here was another reason, in addition to his poverty, for him to deal harshly with any who might come before him charged with violating the statute. And if few were charged, a reason for extorting fines from laborers who had done no wrong.

“What of Sir John?”

“He and Sir Geoffrey apprehended those who were accused and brought them before Sir Henry.”

“They profited from Sir Henry’s extortions?”

“Aye, so it is said.”

“Do you believe this to be true?”

“Aye. Many times I saw Sir Geoffrey and Sir John bring men to Sir Henry. Some had fled as far as St Albans and Northampton where they thought to find employment at better wages. Others were those who would not or could not pay the fines which Sir Henry demanded.”

“Who, then, of Sir Henry’s retinue with him in Bampton suffered loss because of his extortions?”

“I know not. I heard from Hawisa that Walter’s father was fined for charging too much for his labor, but that was before I came to serve Lady Margery, six years past, or seven.”

“What work does Walter’s father do?”

“A smith, I believe.”

“So you believe Sir Henry’s death due to the abuse of his authority?”

“I know not what to believe. I know only that he made enemies and none with him in Bampton were among them, I think. Rather, they were his aides.”

“William and Robert? Did they assist Sir Geoffrey and Sir John in seizing men who would gain more from their labor than the statute permitted?”

“Aye. Several times I saw all four ride out together.”

“And they returned with men who were imprisoned ’til they could pay their fine?”

“Sometimes.”

“And sometimes they returned with the coin Sir Henry wished taken from those charged with violating the law?”

“Aye. So it was said.”

“But none of these folk would have come with Sir Henry to Bampton?”

“Nay. Who would wish to do so? And he would not prey upon his own retainers.”

“He would not,” I agreed. “But there are surely many men who, did they know of Sir Henry’s murder, would not grieve.”

Isobel nodded agreement.

“Is there talk of who may replace Sir Henry as Commissioner of Laborers?”

“Lady Margery says Sir Geoffrey will have the post.”

“That’s not all of Sir Henry’s possessions he is likely to have, eh?”

Isobel blushed. “Nay,” she replied.

“Will he be as rapacious of the commons as Sir Henry? He is baseborn, I am told.”

“Aye, but few speak of it. Not when he or Lady Margery are close by. And he has little compassion for the commons when their money is at issue.”

“Before Sir John was found dead, did Lady Margery speak then of Sir Geoffrey replacing Sir Henry as Commissioner of Laborers?”

“I daresay. Don’t remember clearly. All is a muddle. Can’t remember who said what and when.”

“Did Sir John seek the office also, you think? The post is not for Lady Margery to give, nor is it inherited.”

“Why not? ’Twas a source of income he could have no other way.”

“So with Sir Henry dead, and then Sir John, Sir Geoffrey might have two things he wanted — Lady Margery and a position he might use to extort pence and shillings to fatten his thin purse.”

“Aye. And he’d not overlook even a farthing from the meanest sort. Sir Henry didn’t.”

“Yet ’tis said Sir Henry was needy. If he used his position to take unjustly from the commons, why did he lack funds?”

“Don’t know. He had debts, and Lady Margery likes her jewels. She was much angered last year when Sir Henry sold an emerald ring without her knowledge.”

“When you return to Lady Margery she will want to know of our discourse. On no account must you tell her of my questions or of your replies.”

“What am I to say? She will surely ask, and so will her other ladies.”

“Say that we spoke of William. ’Twill be no lie. His name was mentioned. Say I had many questions about the quarrel between William and Sir John. This also is true.”

Isobel arose from the bench, but as she turned to leave the chamber a last question occurred to me.

“Can Sir Geoffrey read and write?”

“Aye. Not well, I think.”

“You have seen examples of his pen?”

“Nay. Just heard Sir Henry speak to him of it once. Sir Geoffrey was rueful that he lacked knowledge. Didn’t learn to read and write ’til he entered Sir Henry’s service.”

Isobel departed the chamber. I remained, considering what I knew, and what I had just learned. Sir Geoffrey, I decided, had slain Sir Henry to gain a wife and an income, and when he saw these prizes threatened by Sir John, took the opportunity of Sir John’s wound and quarrel with William to do another murder.

Sir Geoffrey would have access to the marshalsea, where he might have hacked a knob from an old, little-used saddle, and he had enough skill with a pen that he could write a message to Sir Roger designed to set askew any investigation.

How the knight got his hands on the pouch of crushed lettuce seeds I did not know, but thought that either Walter or Lady Margery might know something of the business. But if I asked, they would deny it, so there was no point in doing so.

And the portpain was also a puzzle. Did Sir Geoffrey have it from Lady Anne? Why so? Or from Lady Margery? This was more likely. But how would she have got it from the pantry? Was I of Sir Roger’s disposition, I would have suggested that Lord Gilbert rack the knight until he told all.

There were two problems with such a business. Lord Gilbert has no rack at Bampton Castle dungeon, and a man whose arms and legs are being drawn from their sockets will say whatever is needful to end his suffering.

I climbed the stairs to the solar, where I found Lord Gilbert reading his book of hours. He looked expectantly from his devotional. When I had sought him in the past five days it was usually because I had questions or answers. Mostly questions, few answers. He waited to learn which it would be this day.