Edward Marston - The Foxes of Warwick

‘Who told you that?’

‘Ednoth the Reeve.’

‘What else did he tell you?’

‘To beware of the young lawyer,’ said Grimketel, shivering slightly and wishing that his master would not hog the fire. ‘Ednoth has taken their measure. He said that the lord Ralph may thunder and the lord Philippe is like to bully but the one to watch is Gervase Bret. A shrewd, sharp-minded fellow who believes in the supremacy of the law.’

‘I believe in it too,’ said Reynard easily, ‘when I have the law on my side. And, in this dispute, I certainly do. I have a charter which attests my legal right to those holdings. Any lawyer will see at once that my claim is far stronger than that of Thorkell of Warwick.’

‘But he is not your only rival here,’ Grimketel reminded him.

‘He is the only one of consequence.’

‘What of the Bishop of Lichfield?’

‘Another grasping prelate.’

‘Ednoth told me that the bishop also has a charter.’

‘I am sure that he does,’ sneered Reynard, ‘but I am equally sure that it is a forgery. The bishop has no legitimate claim to that property. He is simply trying to build up his holdings in the county. It is rumoured that he acquired land to the north of Coventry with a forged charter but he will not succeed here. Nor will Thorkell,’ he said with a dark chuckle. ‘Now that he has lost the persuasive voice of his reeve. My kinsman cannot help him from beyond the grave.’

‘No, master.’

‘What news of Boio?’

‘Arrested and thrown into a castle dungeon.’

‘Have they beaten a confession out of him yet?’

‘I do not know.’

‘They will, they will.’

‘Thorkell was enraged by the loss of his blacksmith.’

‘He will be even more upset when Boio is hanged.’

Grimketel sniggered. ‘If they find a rope strong enough.’

‘Everything works to our advantage here.’

‘Hopefully.’

‘A celebration may soon be in order,’ he decided, clapping his hands together. ‘A small banquet with close friends. A special dish to grace the table. I think you know what that will mean?’

‘Oh, yes!’ said Grimketel.

And the two of them went off into peals of laughter.

When Gervase and Benedict returned to the castle, the first person whom they sought out was Ralph Delchard. He listened to them with a mixture of interest and irritation, fascinated by what they told him but annoyed that he was not involved in the discovery itself.

‘Why did you not take me with you?’ he said.

‘Because we were not certain if we would find anything,’

explained Gervase Bret. ‘It might just as easily have turned out to be a wild-goose chase and you would not have thanked us for taking you along.’

‘True,’ conceded Ralph.

‘Besides,’ said Brother Benedict, ‘we did not have time to search for you, my lord. Shadows were already falling when we set out.

Had we delayed any longer, we might never have found our way there in the dark. As it was, we had barely enough light to see in the forge.’

‘But you found this,’ said Ralph.

He held the stone bottle up against the flame of a candle to inspect it. They were in a small antechamber in the keep, aware of the kitchen clatter through one wall and hearing, from time to time, the angry voice of Henry Beaumont coming through another.

Uncorking the bottle, Ralph had a tentative sniff and found the aroma pleasing. He replaced the little stopper and handed the bottle back to Gervase.

‘Who was this woman?’ he asked.

‘She would not give us her name,’ said Gervase. ‘And she scampered off when we tried to question her.’

‘She was a friend of the blacksmith’s?’

‘Something more than friendship was involved,’ said Benedict with a genial smile. ‘She told us that she came to the forge to clean for Boio but the place was in chaos. No busy housewife’s hand has been there in ages. I think she came to enjoy his companionship.’

‘She was distressed to hear he was being held,’ noted Gervase,

‘and it was much more than the distress of a friend or neighbour.’

‘Yet you know nothing about her?’ said Ralph.

‘I fear not.’

‘What do you intend to do now?’

‘Go to the lord Henry with this evidence,’ said Gervase.

Ralph was sceptical. ‘A stone bottle from a mysterious stranger, given to you by a woman whose name you do not even know? It is hardly conclusive evidence.’

‘It is proof that Boio was telling the truth,’ argued Benedict.

‘Possibly.’

‘It is, my lord. We simply have to convince the lord Henry of that.’

‘He does not sound in a mood to be convinced,’ said Ralph as their host’s voice was again raised in the adjacent hall. ‘I think you will need more than a stone bottle to secure Boio’s release.’

‘It may at least force the lord Henry to have second thoughts,’

said Benedict. ‘I will reason with him. He is not an ogre. I will persuade him that he has the wrong man in custody.’

Ralph pondered for a full minute before reaching a decision.

‘No,’ he said. ‘Gervase and I will tackle him. If he realises that you went off to the forge, he will not respect your cowl, Brother Benedict. Your holy ears will hear warmer words than any which have so far come through the wall. The lord Henry allowed you to talk to the prisoner in order to coax a confession out of him, not to take up his cause. Leave this to us. We are used to foul language.’

‘I am not afraid of abuse,’ said the monk happily.

‘The lord Ralph is right,’ said Gervase. ‘We must keep you out of this as much as possible, Brother Benedict. You will not be allowed near the prisoner again if it is known that you are acting in his defence.’

‘Very well!’ sighed the other. ‘But I am disappointed.’

‘This is work for us.’

‘Then I will leave you to it, Gervase, and talk to Boio’s other friend.’

‘Other friend?’

‘God,’ said the monk. ‘I will pray to Him to intercede on behalf of an innocent man. You will find me in the chapel when you need me.’

Benedict padded off and the others rehearsed what they were going to say to their host. When they were ready they knocked hard on the door which connected with the hall. Footsteps were heard coming swiftly towards it, then it was pulled open and the unwelcoming face of Henry Beaumont appeared. Seeing his guests, he composed his features into a semblance of friendliness.

‘Yes?’ he said.

‘We crave a word in private,’ said Ralph.

‘Can it not wait until later?’

‘No, my lord.’

‘It concerns the murder investigation,’ said Gervase.

Henry gave a sigh of exasperation but invited them into the hall with a wave of his hand. Grateful for the interruption, the man who had been talking to his master turned to leave. Henry flicked his fingers.

‘No, stay.’

‘Yes, my lord.’

The man halted obediently. Wearing helm and hauberk, he was a short, thickset individual with a livid scar down one cheek.

Ralph was unhappy about the presence of a stranger.

‘We would prefer to talk with you alone, my lord,’ he said.

‘This is the keeper of my dungeons,’ said Henry. ‘If you have anything to say concerning the prisoner, he should hear it. We have just come from interrogating the blacksmith.’

‘Did he confess?’ said Ralph.

‘No, my lord,’ said the other with a grimace. ‘We burned his arms and his chest but he hardly squealed in pain. Fire does not frighten him. He works with it every day.’

‘Do not torture him again.’

‘We must get the truth from him somehow.’

‘You already have it, my lord,’ said Gervase. ‘He is innocent.’