Maureen Ash: Death of a Squire

Bascot remained silent as she continued, “The boy, whose name was Hubert de Tournay, had just passed his seventeenth birthday. He was put in William’s household to train as page and squire some years ago and has remained there ever since. But he is, or was, a distant relation of Eustace de Vescy who, as you will probably know, is married to Margaret, illegitimate daughter of William, the king of Scotland. Since the Scottish king is coming here to meet our own king, and hopefully settle the differences between them, it would be disastrous if de Vescy decides to make an issue of this boy’s death at a time when relationships are already strained between our two countries.”

“Is de Vescy liable to do so?” Bascot asked.

Nicolaa had remained standing while she had been speaking. Now she returned to the chair behind the table and sat down with an audible sigh. “I do not know, de Marins, but I do not like de Vescy, nor do I trust him. He seems to be complaisant towards King John, but these northern barons are often fickle and prone to make trouble. I have no grounds for doubting de Vescy, but the feeling is there and I cannot rid myself of it.”

Nicolaa and her family were noted for their loyalty to the reigning monarch. Her husband did not possess such a reputation, for he had rebelled against the chancellor left by King Richard to govern the country while he was on crusade. His partner in that defiance had been John, then prince. Now that Richard was dead and John on the throne, their former liaison had not endeared the king to his one-time coconspirator but had rather made the new monarch distrustful of him. If trouble arose during John’s visit to Lincoln, it would not take long for his overly suspicious mind to include Gerard Camville in the blame. Hence Nicolaa’s concern.

“I would like the mystery of this death cleared up, de Marins. My husband believes the boy was up to some prank or other and got himself caught by outlaws in the wood. He has gone now to scour the area where the boy was found, but if the outlaws were indeed the culprits they will be long gone, most likely into Sherwood Forest. The eastern edge of the forest spreads down to the Trent river not far from where the boy was found. Gerard will not find them if that is the case. Sherwood is thick and dense. It provides ample cover for any outside the law to evade a pursuer.”

“Do you not agree with your husband’s opinion, lady?” Bascot asked. He had heard the doubt in her voice.

“I would wish it so, for it would provide an easy solution to what could become a difficult situation. But unless my husband can find the outlaws who killed the boy, and provide proof that they are guilty, it might well be said that he has merely taken the most expedient way of explaining the murder. Especially since the body had not been stripped of clothes or dagger, which outlaws most assuredly would have done. And why was he killed by hanging? Again, outlaws would have carried out the deed as quickly as possible, most probably with a knife or cudgel, and left the body on the track, not taken the time and trouble to string him up from a tree. No, I do not think it likely that the murderer is to be found amongst the wretches in Sherwood.”

Nicolaa took a sip of wine before she continued, “The manner of death suggests a punishment, a reprisal for a serious misdeed on Hubert’s part. The boy had a reputation as a troublemaker. He was not well liked by the others of his rank in William’s household, and even William himself says he found the lad disagreeable. Hubert was, apparently, prone to boast of his connection with de Vescy and that he was therefore privy to information denied to the rest of the squires in William’s household. He also made no secret of his opinion that Arthur of Brittany, Richard’s nephew, should be king, not John, and hinted that there are more supporters for Arthur’s claim to the throne than are publicly known. And, of course, he intimated that he knew their identities.”

“It sounds as though he was an impudent, and imprudent, young man,” Bascot replied.

“He was. William says he did not pay the boy’s claims much heed when a member of his household staff mentioned it to him. He thought it likely to be more of the lad’s vain boasting. But it may not have been. It is true there are many in Normandy and Brittany who favour young Arthur as king-and they have supporters here in England-but John has been crowned. He is our monarch and only war can come of gainsaying him.” She paused a moment, then said, “There is an old legend, de Marins, telling of a curse that will befall any king who enters Lincoln. I do not wish that myth to become reality. If Hubert’s words had any truth in them, it could be that he was killed to stop up his prattle and perhaps warn others to keep their lips sealed tight. If that is so, I must know of it. It is my duty, not only to John, but to the safety of my lands.”

The Hayes had been hereditary castellans of Lincoln castle for the past eighty-five years when an ancestor, Robert de la Haye, had married a daughter of the Saxon family that had held the post since the days of the Conquest. Nicolaa’s father had died without male issue, either legitimate or bastard, and she, as the eldest daughter, had inherited the office as well as much of the Haye demesne. Although Gerard Camville, as Nicolaa’s husband, was nominally lord over her estates and governorship of the castle, the sheriff was a lazy and discontented man, more suited to the battlefield or the excitement of the hunt than to managing the various mundane details of running the large fief. Nicolaa undertook these tasks herself and carried them out efficiently and well.

“What is it you require of me, lady?” Bascot asked.

Nicolaa leaned forward, her hands clasped together as they rested on the table in front of her. “If it is at all possible, it is imperative that the truth be found out. To do that, the matter must be delved into. I am asking you to undertake that task, de Marins.”

Bascot gazed at her, his one sighted eye locked into the two of hers. They had played this game before when there had been murder done in an alehouse in Lincoln town during the summer. She had asked him for assistance then and, since both he and Gianni were accepting the shelter of Lincoln castle and the largesse of its mistress at the time, he had complied. More through good fortune than his suitability for the venture, the murderer had been caught. And Bascot, to his surprise, had felt a great satisfaction for the part he had played in the apprehension of the culprit-and she knew it.

With a wry smile, he nodded his acceptance. Nicolaa, in turn, quietly thanked him.

“Is it known why the boy was out in the forest?” Bascot asked.

“No, not yet. That is my concern. Why was he there? Did he go willingly or not? The track nearby where he was found is one frequently used by those who have reason to travel in the chase-villagers, my husband’s forester, our bailiff and the like. If he was not killed by the brigands that poached the deer, it may be that he was abducted and taken there to be killed, or perhaps lured there for a false appointment with the murderer. It may even be simply that he was followed as he went about some purpose of his own. These are the questions for which answers need to be found, de Marins.”

Bascot nodded as she went on. “My husband’s forester is in the hall below. I asked him to wait there so that you can speak to him. There is probably little he can tell you, but it is a place to start.”

She stood up and so did Bascot. “The other pages and squires in William Camville’s retinue-how many are there?” he asked.

Nicolaa frowned in thought. “Seven altogether, I believe. Three pages and four squires. Two of the older boys are almost at the end of their training and hopeful of soon attaining the rank of knight. William tells me that all of them deny any knowledge of the reason for Hubert’s absence from the castle last night.”