The Medieval Murderers - King Arthur's Bones

‘Remember your dignity,’ he hissed. ‘Knights of your standing do not hare after felons like common foot soldiers, and we know where the man lives. I shall visit him later and invite him to spend a few days in the dungeons. He is due for a spell under lock and key anyway – for biting me, if nothing else.’

But Cole’s face was white with anger. He leaned down and retrieved the bundle he had dropped. ‘It was different this time,’ he snapped. ‘Look at what he stole!’

He hauled the last of the sacking away to reveal a heavy jewelled cross.

‘We wasted a day,’ said Cole gloomily as he sat with Gwenllian in their bedchamber that evening. The daylight was fading, sending an orange glow around the little room. She was straining her eyes to sew, and he was honing his sword. ‘We learned nothing useful, and Daniel will go to his grave unavenged.’

‘Nonsense,’ she exclaimed, surprised he should think so. ‘We discovered a great many interesting facts. For example, I have narrowed my list of suspects down to six men – all of whom had the opportunity and a reason to want Daniel dead.’

‘Six men?’ he asked doubtfully. ‘Do you mean the robbers from the forest? Witnesses tell me they come to do their sly work in a pack.’

‘Not them – Boleton is right about that, at least. I asked a few questions around the castle this evening and learned that they have been disturbed at least twice – their response is not to stand and fight but to run away as fast as their legs will carry them. They are not killers.’

‘Then who are these six? One must be Spilmon. His motive would be that he learned about the affair between Daniel and his wife, while you told me that he owns a pot with a cruciform base. Another will be Kyng – he wore a heavy dagger in his belt today, which might well match the wound in Daniel’s head.’

She smiled. ‘That was observant of you – I did not notice it. And Kyng, like Spilmon, has no proper alibi for Daniel’s death. Of course, there is the question of Kyng’s motive.’ She tapped her chin thoughtfully. ‘Perhaps he did it to avenge Spilmon’s injured pride. Or perhaps he resented the fact that Daniel was your friend – you know how he hates you.’

‘Perhaps.’ Cole did not sound convinced, but Gwenllian would not put anything past the vitriolic cheese-maker.

‘My third suspect is Gilbert, for obvious reasons,’ she went on. ‘He is an inveterate thief, and Daniel may well have caught him stealing. And he had that cross from the priory. Were they pleased to have it back, by the way?’

‘Very – they said it is the most valuable thing they own. But I wish Boleton had kept a firmer hold on Gilbert, because the wretched man has disappeared. I know he will not stay away long – he never does – but I want to talk to him now, not in several days’ time.’

‘My fourth suspect is John,’ Gwenllian continued. ‘His writing desk has a cruciform bottom, and he was furtive when he spoke to us earlier. He eavesdropped on you and Daniel on the night of the murder, and I am unconvinced by his tale of being interested in horses. He listened for some other reason.’

‘What about Hywel? Does he feature on this list?’

Gwenllian nodded unhappily. ‘Yes, although it grieves me to say it. He is sullen, bitter and unpredictable, and he owns a sword with a cross-shaped hilt. My last suspect is Boleton.’

A pained look crossed Cole’s face. ‘No. I will not entertain-’

‘He exhibited a curious desire to dog our footsteps today, and his sword looks a better match for the murder weapon that any of the other items we have seen. Moreover, he was jealous of your friendship with Daniel – he likes to think he is the constable’s indispensable confidant.’

‘No,’ repeated Cole angrily. ‘You are wrong. Boleton is not a cold-blooded killer.’

Knowing there was no point in arguing with him, she let the matter drop. ‘These men are the same ones I suspect for stealing Arthur’s bones,’ she said, aiming to dilute his irritation by piquing his interest in another matter. It worked, as she knew it would.

‘Really?’ he asked, mystified. ‘How in God’s name did you reach that conclusion?’

‘Because of the reasons we have already discussed. Kyng and Spilmon recouped their losses suspiciously quickly after my father’s raid – perhaps they sold the relics. Meanwhile, Hywel has access to money that allows him to drink all day and never lift a finger.’

‘And you essentially told Gilbert there was something valuable under the tree,’ mused Cole. ‘While John likes to listen to other men’s private discussions. You said at the time that all five were in the vicinity when Meurig told you about the bones.’

She nodded. ‘Any one of them could have overheard him. As could Daniel.’ And so could Boleton, she thought, although it did not seem a good idea to mention it.

Cole yawned. ‘Well, I can make no sense of it, and it has been a long day. Perhaps answers will come tomorrow.’

It was in the deepest part of the night when the alarm was raised. Iefan burst into the bedchamber to announce that something was happening in Priory Street. Snapping into instant wakefulness, like the warrior he was, Cole dragged on tunic and hose, and was buckling a sword around his waist as he ran from the room moments later.

Because it was Priory Street, and she thought it might have a bearing on Daniel’s murder, Gwenllian threw a cloak over her nightshift and followed him down the stairs.

‘No,’ he said, seeing she intended to accompany him. ‘The thieves have been spotted creeping about, so this is our opportunity to catch them red-handed. You cannot come with me this time.’

‘Then be careful.’

But Cole did not hear, because he was already halfway across the bailey, sprinting to catch up with the party of men who were heading out under Iefan’s direction. They were all armed to the teeth, grim-faced and determined. She waited until they were out of sight, then followed, fixing the guard on gate duty with one of her regal glowers when he tried to stop her.

She kept to the shadows, although the soldiers did not once look behind them. They moved quickly, and she found herself obliged to run to keep up. The town was silent, other than their soft footfalls. They passed the dark mass of St Peter’s Church, with its spacious churchyard and grassy knoll, and slowed down when they reached the town end of Priory Street.

Cole issued a series of low-voiced instructions, and the soldiers split into two groups – he led one down a nearby alley, while the other stayed with Iefan. It did not take Gwenllian long to understand his plan – furtive shadows could be seen massing near Kyng’s home, in the middle of the street, and Cole aimed to ambush them in a pincer-like movement. A quick count told her that there were probably a dozen thieves, all cloaked and hooded against identification. By contrast, Cole and Iefan had eight soldiers, four in each little band.

Blissfully unaware of the trap that was springing, the burglars approached Kyng’s house. Gwenllian was mystified. With its iron-studded door and sturdy window-shutters, it was by far the most secure house in the town, although she knew it was stuffed to the gills with treasure – she remembered seeing it when she had commandeered the place after Lord Rhys’s raid.

The felons seemed to be looking at the large window on the upper floor, but it was a long way off the ground and would be unreachable by all but the very longest ladder. She wondered what they intended to do.

Then one villain, taller than the others, beckoned his cronies towards him and began to mutter. When he had finished, a handful went to crouch directly beneath the window. As soon as they were in position, others moved forward and began to climb on top of them. Fascinated, Gwenllian saw a human pyramid begin to form. Despite his disguise, Gwenllian knew it was Gilbert the Thief who was assisted to the top, because she recognized his lanky frame. He opened the latch with consummate ease and disappeared inside the house.