The Medieval Murderers - House of Shadows

‘John? Come here a moment.’

William felt the rope pulling at his throat again, but there was little he could do to protect himself as the horses trotted onwards. It was only fortunate that he had not lost all his strength.

Ironic. That he should have been innocent of crimes, that his greatest enemy should seek to destroy him, when his only offence had been to love the same woman and then love her daughter. He married her, and the result? She died, his son died, and now he was to die as well. For William had no doubt in his mind that this must be Henry’s intention. The man was determined to remove him.

He was here between two horses, a rope about his neck gripped in Henry’s fist, while other men-at-arms rode about him. His hands were bound behind him, his wrists already chafing, but the pain was bearable compared with the anguish of the losses he had already suffered.

They had left his manor as soon as William had submitted to being tied, the men supposedly left to guard him surprisingly quiet in the face of Henry’s force. There was no point in their being killed to protect a felon. That much was obvious enough. And William had hardly covered a hundred paces from his gate when the little force passed him, one of them on his own horse. The man stared down at William, spat into the road and sped off towards the bridge and the city.

‘He’s coming back,’ Simon said.

Brother Lawrence carried a large wicker basket, a pair of stilts lying over the top. ‘Good day again.’

He set the wicker basket on the ground, where it leaked brown mud and water. The stilts rolled from it.

‘They look a handy tool,’ Baldwin commented.

‘On the flats they can be useful, and in the shallows.’

‘And if a man wished to scare all the locals away from a place, such a device would make him appear greatly taller.’

‘It would take more than-’

‘Yes. Perhaps a good grey cloak and hood would be needed also.’

Lawrence nodded and sighed. ‘You have learned much.’

‘The night that the rogue Mortimer escaped from the Tower, he came this way. We know that. Someone was out here pretending to be a ghost to scare all the people away. You.’

‘Yes. I confess. I walked about the marsh for some nights before the feast to remind people of the ghost and scare them away.’

‘Elena’s husband was killed. By you?’ Baldwin demanded harshly.

‘Me? No. But others were there, and if they met a man in a chance encounter, blood could have been shed.’

‘You say one of Mortimer’s men did it?’

‘I say one of his men could have killed Elena’s man. I do not know. That I swear on the Gospells.’

Baldwin eyed him narrowly. He spoke with conviction and apparent honesty, and Baldwin did not think him a murderer – and yet Brother Lawrence felt his guilt. His subterfuge at reintroducing people to the idea of this ghost had indirectly led to deaths. Elena’s husband, the girl, and Pilgrim. All dead for nothing.

‘Where is John?’

‘Now? I am not sure. Some distance away.’

‘You advised him to flee?’

‘All he did he did for good motives.’

‘I didn’t think you would murder a girl, even if you thought she had betrayed your prior. That was the act of a younger, angrier man.’

‘You may think so,’ Lawrence said calmly. ‘It is between him and God.’

‘Juliet told her father about the priory helping Mortimer to escape, and then he told the king’s men. That led to Prior Walter being arrested.’

‘I think so.’

‘And your novice knew of this. He heard Juliet tell you.’

‘She was proud of telling her father about the escaping men, but she told me in order to apologize, I think. She never expected the prior to be taken. She was very young.’

‘And innocent. But a lad like John, who was raised to the concepts of honour and obedience, he took a different view, didn’t he? He thought her act was disgraceful treachery, rewarding the priory’s kindness in marrying her by destroying the prior.’

Lawrence looked away. ‘I can say nothing. My lips cannot be opened except to God. But whether it is true or not, John has the benefit of clergy. You may not touch him.’

Sir Henry was aware of the eyes on him all the way along to the bridge. There, he fully expected to be accosted, but the porter at the gate meekly accepted his words about his capturing a known felon, and he rode on with his little force to his home.

‘You should have stayed away, William. I didn’t want to have to hurt you, but you couldn’t keep away, could you? What, did you want to upset me by stealing my daughter? Eh? Perhaps you did. Maybe you didn’t even give me a thought. Well, you should have done, old friend. You should have. Because now I’ve got you here, and you’re going to pay for the death of my little girl. And because you took her without my permission, first I’ll have you castrated!’

And he clambered from his horse and tugged on the rope, pulling William onwards.

William had been in a daze while he spoke, and only now, as Henry drew him towards the stables, did he realize what was happening.

‘Christ Jesus! No!’

The men grabbed him and pulled him bodily to the heavy wooden table set out by the brazier, the farrier’s tools set out nearby. And Henry smiled to hear the screams of his old friend.

‘You’ll rot in hell for what you did to my daughter, William.’

‘Sir Baldwin! Thank God I have found you! Sir Henry, he has come and taken William. You must help us. My lord bishop is in Westminster, and I can’t get him…’

‘Tell me all,’ Baldwin said urgently.

The man explained quickly how the men had arrived at William’s house, beaten down Perce and dragged William from the place.

‘Where are they now?’

Baldwin took his horse, and then stopped a man with a small piebald rounsey. ‘I am keeper of the king’s peace, acting for my Lord Bishop Stapledon. I must have your horse.’

‘You can’t take it, I-’

In answer, Baldwin drew his sword. Its wicked blue blade flashed in the sun. ‘Retrieve your horse from Bishop Stapledon’s house later this day. For now, it is needed. Simon? Mount. Lawrence – send a messenger as swiftly as you can to my lord Bishop Stapledon’s house and tell him of this. He must send men to Sir Henry’s house if we are to save William.’

The man left with alacrity at the sight of the sword, a fact that pleased Simon no end. Too many men would have argued and drawn their own steel at being ordered to give up their horse.

Soon they were cantering illegally and dangerously along the thronging streets. Simon was almost brained by a low-hanging merchant’s sign, and then, peering over his shoulder at that near catastrophe, almost rode into a tavern’s sign. After that he gazed ahead resolutely.

As they turned into the house’s yard, the screaming assailed their ears.

Baldwin had sheathed his sword after taking the horse for Simon. Now he drew it again and clapped spurs to the beast. It leaped forward, narrowly missing a groom and making him dart away with a shocked curse.

‘Free him immediately in the name of the king!’ Baldwin roared.

Simon was already on the ground. His sword was out, and it came to rest at the throat of the man holding shears near William’s groin. ‘Put that down,’ he hissed.

There were seven men about the yard. There was a man at William’s arms, holding them by the rope that bound them, while a man gripped each leg, holding them apart. The man between them was very still, his eyes fixed on the steel at his throat.

Baldwin saw Sir Henry and his son standing a short distance away.

‘Tell your men to release him, Sir Henry. If any harm comes to him, I will have you pay for it. Release him, I say!’