Edward Marston - The Foxes of Warwick

‘I will have to leave,’ he decided at length.

‘Adieu!’ she said, crossing to open the door for him.

‘Is that all you have to say to me?’

‘Words could not express my full disgust.’

‘What have I done, Marguerite?’

‘Go to the shire hall. Try to do something correctly.’

‘Tell me,’ he insisted. ‘What is my crime?’

‘You married me!’

The contempt in her voice rocked him. He spread his arms.

‘I loved you. I wanted you. I needed you.’

‘Did you ever consider my needs?’

‘Constantly. Besides, nobody forced you to marry me.’

‘That is a matter of opinion.’

Biting back a reply, he strode across to the open door.

‘We will discuss this later,’ he said, trying to assert himself.

‘When you have come to your senses. And when you have realised that I am not the villain here. The person to blame is Heloise.’

‘Forget her. She is gone.’

‘Where?’

‘Who cares? She has been dismissed.’

‘Heloise has gone for good?’

‘I hope so. It will teach her to keep her mouth shut in future.’

‘Were you so furious with her, Marguerite?’

‘No,’ she said vehemently. ‘I was only annoyed with her. I reserve my full fury for you. Go now, Philippe. And do not hurry back.’

The afternoon session at the shire hall gave them a severe jolt.

After such an efficient start to their deliberations that morning, Ralph Delchard and Gervase Bret were confident that they could continue in the same vein and, with the help of colleagues who were now proven assets, build on their earlier success. It was not to be. Everything conspired against them. When the session was due to begin, Philippe Trouville was not even there, arriving late with profuse apologies but so preoccupied thereafter that he seemed in some sort of dream. Archdeacon Theobald, too, was far less effective than during his first outing, nervous, hesitant and uncharacteristically slow in grasping salient detail. The burden of the examination fell squarely on the shoulders of Ralph and Gervase.

Had the case before them been a simple one they would not have minded but it developed complexities which had not been visible when they’d first studied the documents relating to it.

Holdings which ran to several hides were being fought over by three different people, each of whom appeared to have a valid claim, but in the interval between the visit of the first commissioners and the arrival of the second team, one of the disputants had died and left a controversial will which was being hotly contested and whose provisions spilled over into the shire hall. The tribunal found itself presiding over a ferocious family battle before it could begin to address the problem of who rightfully owned the property in question.

The session was long, convoluted and increasingly tedious.

When the bell was heard ringing for vespers they were still no nearer a decision and had to adjourn the proceedings until the following day. As they gathered up their things, the commissioners were tired and jaded. Alone of the team, Brother Benedict retained his buoyancy.

‘That was intriguing,’ he said.

‘It was the apotheosis of boredom,’ groaned Ralph.

‘Surely not, my lord. All human activity has interest.’

‘I disagree.’

‘Who would have thought that such an apparently civilised group of people could descend to such violent abuse of each other? You did wonders in controlling them, my lord. The dispute itself had so many twists and turns. It was stimulating.’

‘I wish that I could say the same,’ observed Theobald drily. ‘I have to admit that I had great difficulty following those twists and turns. If Gervase had not been so sure-footed a guide, I would have been lost.’

‘I was myself at times,’ confessed Gervase.

‘So was I,’ said Ralph, ‘and the worst of it is that we have more of the same nonsense tomorrow. If the judgement were solely in my hands, I would divide that property into three equal parts, give one to each of the claimants, then throw them out on their ungrateful necks.’

‘That would not be kind,’ said Benedict.

‘Nor ethical,’ said Theobald.

‘Nor legally defensible,’ said Gervase.

Ralph grinned. ‘Who cares? It would give me peace of mind.’

As soon as the session ended, Trouville hurried back to the castle but the others returned at a more leisurely pace, walking through the darkened streets with their escort behind them. When they went in through the gate Theobald headed straight for the chapel but his colleagues lingered in the bailey. It was the first opportunity which Ralph had to tell Benedict about their visit to Adam Reynard’s manor house. The monk was keen to hear all the details and kept one eye on the dungeons as he did so, running a meditative hand over his bald pate and murmuring softly to himself. Though the questioning of Grimketel produced no new murder suspect, it confirmed all three men in their belief that the blacksmith was innocent of the crime.

‘I will visit him again,’ decided Benedict. ‘He is like a caged animal down in that dungeon. Alone and bewildered. It will ease his despair to know that we are working on his behalf.’

‘Not only us,’ said Gervase. ‘Asmoth is doing her share.’

‘That news will rally him the most.’

‘If you are allowed to pass it on to Boio,’ said Ralph.

‘I will be, my lord.’

‘The lord Henry may obstruct you.’

‘I can talk my way past any obstruction.’

It was a cheerful boast but it soon foundered. When the three men reached the keep the constable was waiting for them, his body rigid with anger and his eyes smouldering. Only a room as large as the hall could contain his anger and he led them to it before rounding on them with a voice like the swish of a battleaxe.

‘Hell and damnation!’ he roared, stamping a foot for emphasis.

‘What on earth do you think you are doing?’

‘Doing, my lord?’ asked Ralph innocently.

‘You went riding off to Adam Reynard’s house.’

‘Ah, you have heard.’

‘He came here in person to complain to me.’

‘I had a feeling that he might.’

‘You had no right whatsoever to interrogate him or his man.

No right, in fact, to be anywhere near his land. Why did you do it?’‘Calm yourself, my lord,’ soothed Ralph with a smile. ‘It is not as sinister as it sounds. Gervase and I found the shire hall excessively musty this morning. Needing some fresh air, we went for a ride outside the town and found ourselves on Adam Reynard’s property. It seemed foolish not to make his acquaintance when he is shortly to appear before the tribunal.

So we elected to call on him.’

‘You went there deliberately.’

‘Only to discuss this claim he is making.’

‘To question him about the murder of his kinsman.’

‘The subject came up of its own accord,’ said Ralph.

‘Oh, I see,’ countered Henry with heavy sarcasm. ‘And I suppose that Grimketel strayed in of his own accord as well? Whatever did you hope to gain by grilling him and his master?’

‘More detail, my lord,’ said Gervase.

‘The only detail which you need to know is that I have taken charge of this investigation. And I need no assistance from any of you. No assistance,’ he repeated, ‘and no unwarranted interference.’

‘Evidence came our way by chance, my lord.’

‘What evidence?’

‘Proof that the blacksmith’s alibi was not a lie,’ said Gervase.

‘The stranger with the donkey does exist. Two witnesses saw him on the road near Kenilworth on the day in question. The fellow was heading for Coventry and is liable still to be there.’