Michael JECKS - A Moorland Hanging

“What of the men-at-arms?”

“I had told them to leave me beforehand, shortly after quitting Coyt’s road. I didn’t want them to hear what I was to discuss with Smyth, but I had to tell John. It was hardly an impressive position to be in, was it? Why should I let my men hear of such things? Anyway, I told you all this before; why do you need to hear it all again?”

“It’s important, Sir William. Now, did you see anyone on the road ahead when you left your son? Was there someone approaching the hall from the east?”

“No, of course not!”

“From there the moors roll away and you can see for a great distance. Did you see anyone on the moors?”

He glared at Simon, then at Baldwin, irritation sharpening his voice. “No! Why? What are you suggesting now, bailiff? Who should I have seen?”

Simon remained silent, but Baldwin eyed the knight tentatively. “We know that Peter Bruther was at the inn that night, and that he left shortly before your son got there. It seems likely that they must have met on the road, but if they did, why does your son not tell us?”

“Who says John saw the man? Bruther must have hidden from view when he saw my son approach.”

“Not out there, Sir William. You know the land as well as we do. There are no places for a man to hide, not near the road. And we already know that Bruther was accustomed to passing on to the moors near the hall. He did not leave the road until he got to Smyth’s place. That would seem to indicate that your son could have met him.”

“What if he did? Are you saying he killed the man, dragged the body all the way to Wistman’s Wood, then raced back to the inn? I assume he was at the inn that night?”

Simon sighed. “Well, yes, but…”

“And did he arrive with Sir Ralph? Or was he later than his master?”

The bailiff squinted at the fire. “They arrived together,” he admitted.

“And yet you dare to insult my son’s name in front of me, in my own house!” Sir William’s eyes were wide in rage. “You suggest that my son is a murderer, a man who would strangle another and then hang him from a tree, when you have no evidence whatever?”

“Sir William, please!” Speaking slowly and keeping his voice level and calm, Simon said, “I have no wish to insult you or your son, Sir William. You know that. But it seems clear that John was in the area, just at the time that young Bruther was there, and must very likely have seen him. I do not say that your son alone saw him. Obviously Sir Ralph was there too, and it is possible that Sir Ralph remembered his humiliation at this Bruther’s hands. He would not be the first soldier to kill someone who offered him an insult. As far as I can see, there is no real reason for John to have murdered the young man, but Sir Ralph had cause, didn’t he? In any case, you have confirmed that you did not see Bruther on the road. The people at the inn were certain that he left only a short time before John and Sir Ralph got there, so I assume that they must have passed him on their way to the inn.”

The old knight stared, aghast. His shock was plain to both men. “But… But… Surely he must already have passed, before we got to the hall,” he stammered.

“As I said, Sir William, if he had passed already, you would surely have seen him up on the moors. From the road to Beauscyr, you can see for miles, and it’s the same all the way to the inn. If he was on the moors, you must have seen him.”

“We weren’t looking for him, though,” he was pleading. “He could have been up there, but we weren’t looking. Maybe he hid behind a rock? There are plenty of them up there, and it would take only a moment to duck behind one. That must be it! He saw us, realized who we were and dropped out of sight – he would know that Sir Ralph would want to exact vengeance for the insult he offered when they last met.”

“No. It will not do, Sir William,” said Baldwin. His manner was precise, leaving no opportunity for misunderstanding. “We have ridden past there several times over the last couple of days. If Bruther was there, then you must have seen him. You did not, and neither did your men. You had the men-at-arms with you, and they would have been looking for miners or anyone else who could have posed a threat. Likewise, your son and his master would have kept an eye open. They are men-of-war, and unused to peace. Even if you were concentrating on your meeting with Smyth, I find it hard to believe that your company were so careless as to forget to keep a lookout. Of course, Bruther could already have passed, but if he had, he would surely have been seen by Samuel and Ronald after you dismissed them.”

“Why? They would have gone in the opposite direction to get back here.”

“But they went to the Dart, to the alehouse. That’s how they found the body – they left the road because of two men they thought could be miners. So that means Bruther had not yet passed by. And that means that your son and Sir Ralph must have met him later.”

The old man gazed from one to the other, his face suddenly pale and waxen. His eyes, large and almost luminous with fear, seemed to betray his own doubts about his son, but then they fixed on Simon with desperation. “But there’s nothing to suggest that John would kill, like you say. It must have been his master, Sir Ralph. Why would John kill the man? They had nothing to do with each other.”

Simon glanced at Baldwin, trying to avoid the pitiful spectacle of the disintegration of the knight. Sighing, he looked at his hands resting in his lap as he said, “I am sorry, Sir William, but there is more. Both men arrived at the tavern together, but a short while later your son left, and did not return for a long time. He could have dragged the body over the moors to the woods and hung it there before returning.” He forced himself to meet the gaze of the old knight. “I am truly sorry,” he said simply.

Sir William raised a hand, making a curious, futile little gesture as if slapping at a fly, knocking away the suggestion that his son could have been involved. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, the door opened and his wife walked in.

She appeared surprised to see the little congregation, halting as she took in the mood of the room, but then her brows drew together, and she paced slowly and menacingly toward them, her eyes glued accusingly on the bailiff. “I heard that my husband had returned, bailiff. I had not realized that you had monopolized his company since then. Usually a guest will leave his host to be welcomed by his wife after a day apart.” Her voice was cold as she stood by Sir William.

Simon sighed. Matillida Beauscyr was almost shaking with fury, and he had no desire to suffer the lash of her tongue, but that was his fate, he knew, if he raised even a suspicion about her youngest son. Already the presence of his woman had instilled a new strength into Sir William, and the bailiff could see that she was not of a mood to let the interview continue without her.

He said, “My apologies, lady. I did not mean to detain your husband any longer than necessary, and did not wish to annoy you, but there are still some points to talk through.”

“Please do not let me stop you,” she said with icy politeness, and sat. “I will wait here until you are done, and then I can welcome my husband. In peace.”

Her arrival acted like a tonic on her husband, and Sir William sat more upright in his seat. Glancing at him, Baldwin saw that the old man’s eyes were steady again; they had lost their wavering anxiety. Baldwin coughed lightly, a mild clearing of his throat which made the Beauscyrs turn to him. “If you wish to stay, madam, please take a seat. In the meantime, Sir William, would you mind sending a servant to fetch your son?”