The Medieval Murderers - The Deadliest Sin

Standing, panting, he looked about him to see that the other man was dead. Two more arrows had hit him in the back of the neck and spine and, although his body twitched sporadically, there was clearly no life in him.

‘Come, quickly!’ Janyn hissed, and grabbed the man from the ground.

It was not until that moment that Janyn paused to glance at the man he and Barda had rescued. For an instant, he gaped, and then he leaped forward and rammed his fist into the boy’s belly. ‘That’s for her, you son of a whore!’

Barda had to pull him away and hold him back. ‘Let’s get away from here, Jan. Come on, this isn’t the time or the place.’

Janyn stood with his jaw clenched so tightly he thought a tooth was loosened. Then he turned on his heel and set off down to the camp, leaving Barda to help the boy.

The rage bubbled and fizzed in his blood. There was a hollowness in his belly, and his heart was thundering like a galloping horse in his breast as he strode on, all thought of the Genoese put from his mind. It was only as he reached the English lines and saw a column of men marching forward towards him that he remembered the trap in the trees, and paused to warn the commander of the men.

Back at the camp, already the main assault had been turned away, and now the only sign that there had been a battle was the mound of corpses, as Englishmen picked up the French slain and piled them one upon another. Janyn marched to his banneret’s pavilion and stood outside while Sir John finished buckling greaves and pulling on his gauntlets.

‘You removed them?’ Sir John asked.

‘No, sir. They were too numerous, and in the trees there, there was little we could do to protect ourselves. They were well positioned.’

‘Never mind. The main assault has failed, anyway. I’m surprised, though. Your centener thought you would easily win through.’

His words took a moment to register, and then Janyn thought again about the figure hurrying from the pavilion earlier, before he and the men went to outflank the Genoese. ‘Henry? He suggested us?’

‘Yes. He said your men were best placed. He said you were freshest and ready for a little excursion up into the woods. Why? Is there a problem?’

‘No, sir,’ Janyn said. ‘Did you know someone else had tried that route before? There were many dead on the ground already.’

‘I had not heard, no. That is annoying – we could have saved you and your men, if we had been told.’

‘Yes, sir.’

Over at the carts, he saw Bill lean up against a wheel, his arms draped over the wheel. Janyn thought to himself how he would see him whipped later, until the skin was flayed from his back. It was clear enough what had happened. The boy had taken Pelagia, hoping perhaps to run away with her, and then raped and killed her when she refused. The murderous scum had hidden her body to hide his guilt. In his mind’s eye, Janyn saw the scene: Bill half-dragging the woman up the slope after him, all for lust. All for desire for a woman who didn’t want him.

But as he’d noticed, she did seem to want him. Janyn could only assume she wanted to imitate a nun, and when Bill got her up on the hillside, she didn’t want to open her legs to him. Perhaps she was scared of the idea of the army approaching, or maybe Bill’s lust was alarming to her. Whatever the reason was, she refused him. And he, craven cur that he was, forced her.

Although that too seemed unlike him. Janyn stood, staring over at the cart. Bill had a gash on one cheek, and even as Janyn watched, the lad turned, draping his hands over the top of the wheel as though crucified.

He had never shown violence towards her. He had never even displayed much lust. Rather, he held a simmering bitterness towards anyone else who looked at her. The only man of whom he appeared to hold no jealousy was his brother. That was natural, after all. Brothers could maintain their friendship even in the face of rivalry.

But there was another man who had shown his lust. Henry had been violently angry when the vintener refused to allow him to take Pelagia. He expected to be able to rape her, and had even made threats when he was thwarted. And today, for some reason, he had recommended Janyn and the others to go into that terrible wood.

It was coincidence, Janyn told himself. Why would Henry want to kill off the vintaine, especially Janyn? It made no sense, except he knew Henry. They all did. If he felt snubbed or insulted, his brutality in revenge could be boundless.

Janyn was suddenly assailed by a sense of revulsion so intense, he had to grasp a nearby tree and cling to it, waves of nausea running through his entire body.

‘It was him,’ he said. ‘Damn his eyes, Henry tried to get us all killed!’

Barda saw his sudden lurch, and hurried to his side. ‘Jan? Are you all right?’

‘By God’s cods, Barda, I think little is well,’ Janyn said.

Henry was with his commanders when Janyn approached him. The other vinteners were about him, and Henry looked at Janyn sidelong.

‘Thank you, centener,’ he said. ‘My men appreciate being sent up to the ridge.’

‘What are you talking about, Jan?’

‘You’d had your own men, or another man’s vintaine up there already. Their bodies are all over the hill. We’d already fought all morning before light, but that didn’t worry you, did it? You were happy enough to be rid of us, I suppose.’

‘You always were an insubordinate bastard, Hussett. Your father was a trader in second-hand clothes, and I suppose you’re little better. Well, if you don’t like the army, you shouldn’t have joined the King’s forces.’

‘I joined my master, Sir John, to come here,’ Hussett said. He looked about the other men with casual deliberation. ‘But he wouldn’t have sent me to have me killed with the callous disregard that you did.’

‘Me? What are you saying?’

‘That you wanted your vengeance because you wanted the woman Pelagia. You were prepared to kill us all to have her, weren’t you?’

‘You’ve been drinking too much cheap wine!’

‘She’s dead. But perhaps you know that already. She was killed and set down in a hollow last night. Where were you? Did you go up there to kill her, and then tried to have me and all my vintaine wiped out so you could hide your murder?’

‘Now you’re talking hog’s turds!’ Henry said, and set his arms akimbo. ‘You say I killed the maid? And what of it if I had? How many other men and women have we all killed? You think I’d have run with my thumb up my arse in case a peasant’s mongrel like you learned of it? Get your brain to work, man! You think I’m scared what you or anyone else thinks? Go swive a goat!’

Janyn was about to launch himself at the man, but Barda put a restraining hand on his breast. Then Janyn paused and considered.

There was merit in Henry’s words. Why would he worry about killing the woman?

‘You tried to have all my vintaine wiped out just so you could have her to yourself, didn’t you?’ he said wonderingly. ‘It wasn’t just to hide her murder – it was simple lust. You wanted her, and you were prepared to kill me and all my men just so you could take her.’

‘You have no way of knowing what I would or woudn’t do,’ Henry said, but now his voice was colder.

‘You were prepared to have Sir John’s force depleted just so you could rape the woman.’

‘She would have been willing enough,’ Henry said with a smirk. ‘The women always are.’

Janyn nodded. He set his jaw and gazed at all the other vinteners standing with Henry. ‘You all heard that. He wanted to sacrifice us, his own men, so that he could grab the woman. Like David and Bathsheba. A corrupt leader prepared to see his own men slain just so he can steal their women. We all know where we stand with him.’