Mel Starr - Rest Not in Peace

I needed my instruments. I bid Arthur and Walter maintain their watch, told Lord Gilbert my examination was near complete, and hastened to Galen House. Bessie toddled to me, but I could spare her but a peck upon a cheek before I seized a sack which I keep always ready for a time when my skills are called for.

Often when I walk the bridge over Shill Brook I stop to observe the water pass beneath, but not this day. I hastened to the castle, and at Sir Henry’s chamber I selected my smallest scalpel with which to prod the dark recess of Sir Henry’s ear. A moment later I drew forth a clot of dried blood.

If an awl is driven through a man’s ear, into his brain, will he die so suddenly that he does not cry out in pain before death comes? I did not know, and do not know yet, for there is no way to make experiment to learn if it may be so.

But I was then sure that Sir Henry was murdered. Some man thrust an awl or thin blade through his ear. If such a wound bleeds much — I had no experience of such a wound to know, and no writer has treated the subject — the felon had mopped up the blood so as to befuddle all who sought to find the cause of Sir Henry’s death. They had overlooked one drop.

I must now report this sad discovery to Lord Gilbert, and he must send for Sir Roger de Elmerugg, Sheriff of Oxford. Murder upon Lord Gilbert’s lands would generally be my bailiwick, but not when the deceased was a visiting knight. I was pleased that seeking a murderer would be another man’s business. Sir Roger entertained other thoughts.

Ihad no authority to summon the sheriff of Oxford to Bampton. Lord Gilbert must do that, and before he would do so I must explain the need. I found my employer in the hall, deep in conversation with Lady Petronilla and Lady Margery, sitting in chairs drawn aside while grooms erected tables for dinner.

Lord Gilbert saw me enter the hall. I did not wish to tell him of my discovery in the Lady Margery’s presence, so stopped at the entry and with a nod of my head invited him to join me. He did so.

“What news, Hugh? Have you done with your examination?”

“I have, m’lord.”

“And?”

“Sir Henry died at some other man’s hand.”

“What?” Lord Gilbert said, startled by this news, then peered over his shoulder to see if Lady Margery had observed or heard his response.

“Murder was done last night,” I said.

“You are certain? How so?”

“Come with me and I will show you what I have found.”

I motioned for Lord Gilbert to leave the hall before me, and as I turned to follow saw Lady Petronilla and Lady Margery look to me, their conversation halted, questions from their raised eyebrows. Few things will stop ladies’ gossip, but I had managed to do so.

“Sir Henry,” Lord Gilbert said as we strode the corridor toward the dead man’s chamber, “had no wound upon him that I could see. How could this be murder? Have you found some poison?”

“Nay… no poison. I will show you. Come and see.”

Lord Gilbert hesitated at the door to Sir Henry’s chamber, where Arthur and Walter stood watch. I pushed past and motioned for him to follow. At Sir Henry’s head I stopped and turned to Lord Gilbert.

“I had nearly given up learning the reason for this death,” I admitted, “when my eyes fell upon yon poker.” I pointed to the iron rod.

“Sir Henry was beaten to death with that?” Lord Gilbert asked incredulously.

“Nay.”

“Stabbed, then? But where?”

“Nay. Not stabbed with the poker, but he was pierced.”

“But there is no sign.”

“There is if one seeks for it in the proper place. You have heard the tale of the death of King Edward’s father?”

“Aye,” Lord Gilbert grimaced. “Mayhap ’tis no tale, but true. But you said that poker was not employed to do murder.”

“It was not. The soot of the last fire of winter is yet upon it. But when I saw it I wondered if another weapon might have been used to penetrate some other orifice.”

“And you found it so?”

“Aye. So I believe. Look there.” I pointed to the fragment of dried blood which I had teased from Sir Henry’s ear, and which yet lay upon the pillow beside his head.

Lord Gilbert bent to examine the clot and perceived readily what it was he saw.

“Blood?” he said.

“Aye.”

“From whence has it come?”

“Sir Henry’s ear.”

Lord Gilbert scowled. “Could not some spasm cause such a rupture?”

“I have never heard nor have I read of such a thing,” I replied.

“But yet it could be so.”

“Mayhap. But if Sir Henry died of a fit, I think he would have thrashed about in its throes, left his bed in disarray, and made some racket before death came upon him.”

“Hmmm.” Lord Gilbert stood from examining the blood, raised one questioning eyebrow, then spoke again.

“Some man within Bampton Castle walls did murder last night, then?”

“Or woman.”

“What woman would wish Sir Henry dead?”

“What man?” I replied.

“Surely some man has done this.”

“Why so? ’Twould take little strength to plunge a bodkin through a man’s ear and into his brain.”

“But would a woman have the stomach to do so?”

“That, m’lord, I cannot say. There are some men, I think, who could not bring themselves to do such a sleeping murder, no matter the provocation. As there be some men who could not, there may be some women who could.”

“Oh,” Lord Gilbert said thoughtfully. “Just so. Well, if you are certain of murder you must discover who has done it.”

“Is that not the sheriff’s duty?”

“He must be told, of course. I will send for him straight away.”

“And we must bring Hubert Shillside to see what has happened here.”

Shillside is Bampton’s haberdasher, and has been the town coroner since before I came to the place. I have had many dealings with him and his jury. More than I would wish. I do not dislike the man, but it seems that whenever I have discourse with the fellow some man has died.

“We will have our dinner first, then you must travel to Oxford and fetch Sir Roger.”

“Me?”

“Aye. You must explain to Sir Roger what has happened, and why you suspect murder. John Chamberlain or some valet could not do so in convincing fashion.”

June twenty-first was a fast day, so Lord Gilbert’s table was not so lavish as otherwise would be. Lord Gilbert, Lady Petronilla, Lady Margery, Lady Anne, Sir John and Sir Geoffrey sat at the high table. In times past I had also had a place there, but not this day. There was room enough. Perhaps Lord Gilbert thought that Lady Margery might take it amiss, being yet convinced that my potion had slain her husband. Neither Lord Gilbert nor I had announced yet the cause of Sir Henry’s death.

The first remove this day was sole in cyve, wheaten bread with honeyed butter, and mussels boiled in wine. I watched Lady Margery consume her portion of this first remove. I thought she might have little appetite, but not so. She attacked her dinner eagerly. Her cheeks were yet pink and swollen from the morning’s tears, but her conversation with Lord Gilbert and Sir Geoffrey, who sat on either side of her this day, showed little sign of bereavement. Sir Geoffrey, I was surprised to see, stuffed himself crudely, and wiped honeyed butter from his lips with the back of his hand. Lady Margery did not seem to notice.

For the second remove the cook presented boiled salmon and a pottage of whelks. During this remove I turned my attention to Lady Anne. She seemed less enthusiastic for discourse, speaking to Lady Petronilla and Sir John only when spoken to, and ate but a small portion of the boiled salmon.