Michael JECKS - Squire Throwleigh’s Heir

‘Sir Baldwin, you yourself pointed out that if the fish-seller had run Herbert down, Edmund would have seen the body’

‘Very well, then. Let us suppose that Herbert was run down by Edmund,’ Baldwin said. ‘But was the man awake? He admits going to the inn, admits to returning after a few ales – how often have you seen a man in that condition? If the boy ran out from the side of the road and fell under his wheels, despite the bump he might not know anything about it.’

‘His wagon was empty, and he’s only got a light one. If he ran down the boy, he’d know all about it,’ Daniel asserted.

Baldwin was even more convinced that the steward was determined to implicate the villein for some unknown reason, and the knight wasn’t prepared to be a willing accomplice in the destruction of Edmund for a crime of which he might well be innocent. ‘There is no evidence to suggest that he was guilty of anything,’ he said strongly. ‘Even if, as you say, he was aware of riding over a child, you couldn’t expect him to run straight to the manor, where people like you would assume he was guilty of murder.’

‘Of course we would! Who else had a wish to attack my Lady Katharine’s family!’

Baldwin stopped his horse and stared.

Simon looked as baffled as he felt. ‘Why on earth would a nonentity like him want to hurt the likes of her?’

‘Because she’s reclaimed him as a villein!’ Daniel burst out. While the two men stared, he explained the legal loophole by which Lady Katharine had trapped Edmund back into her service.

‘But that’s outrageous!’ Simon cried. ‘She is taking advantage of her position – and doing so to overrule her husband’s express wishes.’

Daniel suddenly felt very old, and almost regretted calling the bailiff back. He had no choice: he must explain how the manor he served could unfairly treat its tenants.

‘We’re trying a new system here – just like the Earldom of Cornwall,’ he began defensively. ‘If someone else offers more money than the existing tenants, the highest bidder wins the land.’

‘You mean serfs are evicted when their lord is offered a good sum?’ Simon asked.

‘Urn… not only then. This is for free tenants as well. The tenants on our lands have a lease for only seven years, and when it is due for renewal, anyone who can offer more money may have it.’

Baldwin and Simon exchanged shocked glances. Tenants were either freemen or serfs. The former paid fixed rents, while the latter had the burden of labour owed to their lords as well as the expense of the feudal taxes: the merchet, paid by women when they wished to be married, chevage, paid by serfs who wished permission to live away from the demesne, plus a range of other arbitrary charges that could be imposed by a greedy lord. But this very arbitrariness only affected those who were servile, not the free.

Daniel pointedly avoided their eyes while he explained how the system worked. Every seven years the existing leases were terminated and the plots thrown open to the highest bidder. First refusal was given to the existing tenant, but if another offered a better price, that person won.

‘You mean that even loyal tenants of a magnate could be thrown off their land just because someone who isn’t even local decides to offer money?’ Simon asked.

‘Well – yes, sir.’

‘It should be illegal! How can men have any faith in their masters when they’re treated so shabbily?’

Baldwin too was frowning. ‘The old way is for all retainers to be safe while they stay loyal to their liege-lord. If this sort of idea were to take hold, where would the kingdom be? If no man can trust his lord’s integrity and commitment, no one would be safe. The King himself could decide to impose the same tenancies on his lords!’

‘Hardly, sir. He wouldn’t dare rouse all the nation in that way,’ Daniel said.

‘But has this Edmund been disloyal?’

‘Well, not that I know of, but he is a very inefficient farmer, and he can’t afford…’

‘You think that because of this dispute, Edmund could have caused his master’s death?’

‘He angered Squire Roger by begging, reminding him of the service his father Richard had given.’

‘Loyal and faithful service?’ Simon asked.

‘Yes. That was why his father was freed.’

‘And this is his reward!’

Daniel glanced mournfully at the bailiff. ‘Sir, I don’t invent the laws, I only obey my commands.’

‘As you should,’ Baldwin agreed. ‘Yet for the squire’s accidental death – there is no suggestion that Edmund struck the squire – for that, Lady Katharine is determined to punish Edmund. I suppose you think that as a result of her actions, Edmund saw a means to hurt her even more cruelly, and rode down her son? I have heard of such cases, but you want me to believe that a weakly bully like Edmund could do such a thing?

I doubt whether he would have the guts or strength of purpose to attempt so horrific a revenge.‘

‘Sir, Edmund was the last man to pass. If the master was run over, who else could it have been? It must have been Edmund!’

‘You keep repeating that!’ Simon snapped. ‘So what? In God’s name! Even if that bastard Edmund did run down the child, it’s probably only because the fool was asleep and the death an accident. Accidents will sometimes happen, and no one is responsible when they do!’

‘But, Bailiff, he must…’

‘Enough!’ Simon rasped. ‘I will hear no more! You’ve got some kind of fascination with this poor man, and it’s unreasonable and foolish. God’s teeth, do you really think that a miserable serf like him could dream of harming the heir to Throwleigh? Wake up, man, you’re dreaming.’

Daniel held his angry stare for a moment, but then his head dropped, and Simon saw a tear fall from his nose. The bailiff was strangely shocked to realise that the steward was weeping.

Jeanne was waiting for them in front of the house, Wat at her side in case she needed an errand run. She smiled and walked to meet the men as they approached but, before she had covered a few yards, she realised that their mood was not good. Simon rode with his face as black as a moorland thundercloud, while Baldwin kept his distance, staring up thoughtfully at the hill behind the house; Daniel brought up the rear with the two servants. She instantly decided to make use of the customary cure for such moods, and sent Wat to fetch wine.

‘My lord?’ she asked tentatively as they came close, and her husband broke into a smile of sheer delight.

‘Jeanne! Where is Margaret, and Lady Katharine?’

‘They are walking out in the garden behind the stables,’ she said. ‘Was your journey worthwhile?’

He saw her glance behind him at the scowling steward. ‘No,’ he admitted. ‘I think the only thing we achieved was upsetting Lady Katharine’s man.’

She listened seriously as he spoke of their visit to Edmund’s house. As he finished, she gave him a grave look. ‘Are you really so sure that he is wrong?’

‘As things stand now, yes,’ he said. ‘The boy was certainly run over by a wagon of some sort, but I see no reason why this man should be responsible. And as for murder…’

‘You don’t think Daniel could be right and this fellow wanted to kill the boy in revenge for losing his land – and his freedom, of course?’

Wat returned with the wine, and Baldwin took a sip, watching as the youngster filled pots for the other men. Why should someone want a child dead? he wondered.

‘What’s that?’

Hearing the cheery call, Baldwin winced. The last man he wished to speak to at this moment was Thomas, Squire Roger’s brother. Jeanne saw his look, gave her husband a fleeting smile, and walked away, apologetically telling Thomas that she must prepare for breakfast. Recollecting his manners, the knight fitted a suitably polite smile to his lips before turning to greet the man from Exeter. ‘Good morning, Master Thomas. I didn’t hear you approach. We have been over to Throwleigh to speak to some of the men and find out whether anyone could shed any light on the death of your nephew.’