Michael JECKS - Squire Throwleigh’s Heir

Thomas flinched as the finger stabbed towards him, but then met Godfrey’s stare with a resolute fury as Godfrey finished his story.

‘Thomas screamed and I think I heard his man laugh, but then Thomas must have dismounted from his horse because I turned and saw him running towards me. As soon as he saw me, he demanded whether I had seen a lad coming my way. Well, I shook my head, wondering what on earth all this fuss was about, and he said: “The little bastard shot me with a sling and if I catch him, I’ll wring his insolent neck!” Then he swore and went back the way he had come.’

Godfrey paused and stared down, as if debating whether to continue. ‘My Lady, I also have to tell you that this man has no money. He needed the inheritance to save his finances. I think he ensured your son was put out of the way’

Simon gazed at the miserable Thomas. ‘Well? What do you have to say for yourself?’

‘Me?’ Thomas sneered feebly. ‘What could I say, Bailiff? You’ve made up your mind already, haven’t you? “Oh, the evil creature, he’s prepared to try to get himself a few pennies from his brother’s estate” – a brother, you’ll recall, who has left me nothing, nothing! And the estate would all have been mine if he hadn’t taken that dam to wife so he could start breeding. Why shouldn’t I have got something out of it? It should have been mine anyway, and why on earth the law allows a puling brat to take a man’s lands, I don’t understand.’

‘You know full well that the law is there to protect the weak, like poor Herbert,’ Baldwin stated sternly.

‘Oh, spare me the lesson on the law! The weak, you say? What exactly am I supposed to have done? Eh, Sir Knight?’

‘You’ve been accused of murder,’ said Simon sternly. ‘And as bailiff, I have to tell you that I am inclined to believe the accusation. You admit to your lust for the estate, you confess your dislike of the boy, and you knew that he was the only person standing between you and your greed. All you needed to do was kill him, and you could possess the lands you always hankered after.’

‘I… That’s rubbish!’ Thomas spat, rising to his feet. Edgar was close by, and took a step nearer, but Baldwin gave a slight shake of his head, and his servant remained where he was.

‘Rubbish, I say – you suggest I killed my own nephew, forsooth! In God’s name, it would have been easy enough, but I never even saw the little devil. He wasn’t there!’

‘Then who did you see?’ Baldwin asked, and seated himself at a bench. Simon sat at his side, and the two of them stared at the disconcerted man.

By that simple action, they had altered the whole tone; Thomas now felt he was truly the subject of a legal court, the suspected felon in this heinous crime. He swallowed. Suddenly he was sober, and fearful. He felt his legs quiver, and stared from one to the other, hoping to see a sign of sympathy in their eyes, but there was nothing. When he allowed his gaze to wander about the room, he saw contempt on all the faces, except Katharine’s: hers radiated pure hatred.

‘Well?’ Simon asked. ‘Who was it down there? We’ve heard from another that you were off your horse, beating among the bushes, and now we learn that you had run back and called out to Godfrey. Who was the boy if it wasn’t Herbert?’

‘I think it was that cretinous son of a villein, Alan,’ Thomas muttered. ‘The little shit has hit people before. Ask Stephen about him, he’ll tell you – go on, ask the priest! The sod sits in the bushes and when he sees a rider coming past, he tries to tickle up the horses by hitting them with a stone from his sling. He got me instead of my horse that day, hit me right on the thigh, and painful it was, too – that was why Godfrey heard me shout. Anyone would have cried out, hit by a bullet like that.’

‘What did you do then?’ Simon pressed.

‘Like Godfrey said, I went in search of the brat; I was going to give him a sound thrashing if I had the chance, but I couldn’t find him, and from what Godfrey said, the sod hadn’t gone back that way. Thinking that he must be hiding down the slope or out on the road to Throwleigh, I made off back the way I had come to head him off. When I still couldn’t spot him, I started searching for him in and among the bushes.’

‘And then you heard a cart coming your way?’ Baldwin asked.

‘Yes, but not Edmund’s. The one I heard was the fishmonger’s cart coming back from the manor. I looked up when that thing came rumbling along, and had a good look at it in case Alan was clinging on beneath, but I couldn’t see him, so I went back to the bushes again.’

Simon frowned, and jerked his thumb towards Godfrey. ‘You said you remained up there. What else did you see?’

‘Sir, after Thomas went off in a rage, I sat there laughing awhile, and didn’t notice much. When I did look about me again, I saw that Petronilla had disappeared. She was going to pacify the priest before he could hurt the boys – well, that’s what my master thought…’

Lady Katharine stirred. ‘Bailiff, she knew my feelings towards the priest. Stephen always resorted to the cane at the slightest provocation, and I had a fear that one day his zeal would overcome him. Petronilla would have gone to protect my boy if the priest had caught him so far from home.’

‘Which means that Stephen and Petronilla both thought that Herbert was up the hill with them,’ Baldwin pointed out. He too glanced at Godfrey. ‘What makes you think that Thomas captured and killed him?’

‘This, Sir Baldwin. Only a little while later, my master and I were about to ride back to the manor when we heard a short cry and a bellow of anger, and then a few minutes later a boy hared over the road going back up the hill towards the priest. By this time Stephen had gone quiet, and I reckoned the girl had persuaded him to leave well alone, but a few moments later up came Thomas, puffing and blowing like a spent nag, pointed up the hill, and was away, over the road and into the bushes.

‘At the time it all seemed so ludicrous I was ready only to laugh, but then I thought to myself, if the brat likes taking shots at horses and riders, maybe the best place for me is beyond reach of his sling – and so I rode away.’

‘So your evidence is,’ Baldwin concluded, ‘that the lad was alive then, that Thomas was enraged and could have done the boy harm – although you say he was still on foot?’ Godfrey nodded, and Baldwin gave Thomas a puzzled frown.

Simon set his head on one side. ‘Did you ride straight back to the manor then?’

‘No, sir. We were about to, but I persuaded my master not to take the direct route within range of his pebbles.’

‘Why?’

Godfrey grinned. ‘Sir, like I said, I thought the boy was up there with a sling. I didn’t fancy being his target on my ride home! Sir James agreed to take the longer route homewards, and as we were about to turn and go off, we saw the other carter, the local man.’

‘Edmund,’ Simon nodded.

‘Yes, sir. He was drunk, that was obvious. He was reeling on the seat every time he hit a pebble on the track. He looked mightily fearful of us too: two strangers, well-accoutred, armed and obviously not local. He hunched his head down into his shoulders like a snail, and tried to avoid meeting our gaze. We just stared at him, for fun, you understand, and he rode on by. But when he got some few yards from us, I saw him turn and stare back at us.’

Baldwin looked at Thomas. ‘We heard that Thomas was down at the other road when Edmund passed, yet you say Thomas ran over the road before the cart came into view?’

Daniel interrupted. ‘Edmund must have been lying!’

‘I don’t think so, Daniel,’ said Simon. ‘The distance Thomas had to run was only short, yet Edmund would have seen him up to a half-mile away from the fork. I daresay Edmund saw him, chose to take the other road, and then Thomas set off after his assailant, running up to the higher road and over it before Edmund got there.’