Ken Follett - World Without End

They sat together in the cold parlour, with the stale smell of last night’s ale and wine, and Ralph said: “I’m afraid they’ll hang me.”

“So am I,” said Merthin.

“I don’t know what to do.” The boy brought two tankards and half a loaf. Ralph picked up his ale in a shaking hand and took a long draught.

Merthin ate some bread automatically, frowning and looking upwards out of the corners of his eyes in the way he always did when he was racking his brains. “The only thing I can think of is to try to persuade Annet to drop the charge and come to a settlement. You’ll have to offer her compensation.”

Ralph shook his head. “She can’t back out – it’s not allowed. They’ll punish her it she does.”

“I know. But she could deliberately give weak evidence, making room for doubt. That’s how it’s usually done, I believe.”

Hope sparked in Ralph’s heart. “I wonder if she would consent.”

The potboy brought in an armful of logs and knelt before the fireplace to start a fire.

Merthin said thoughtfully: “How much money could you offer Annet?”

“I’ve got twenty florins.” That was worth three pounds of English silver pennies.

Merthin ran a hand through his untidy red hair. “It’s not much.”

“It’s a lot to a peasant girl. On the other hand, her family are rich, for peasants.”

“Doesn’t Wigleigh yield you much money?”

“I’ve had to buy armour. When you’re a lord you need to be ready to go to war.”

“I could lend you money.”

“How much have you got?”

“Thirteen pounds.”

Ralph was so astonished that for a moment he forgot his troubles. “Where did you get all that?”

Merthin looked faintly resentful. “I work hard and I’m paid well.”

“But you were sacked as master builder of the bridge.”

“There’s plenty more work. And I rent out land on Leper Island.”

Ralph was indignant. “So a carpenter is richer than a lord!”

“Luckily for you, as it happens. How much do you think Annet will want?”

Ralph thought of a snag, and his spirits fell again. “It’s not her, it’s Wulfric. He’s the ringleader in this.”

“Of course.” Merthin had spent a lot of time in Wigleigh while building the fulling mill, and he knew that Wulfric had married Gwenda only after being jilted by Annet. “Then let’s talk to him.”

Ralph did not think it would do any good, but he had nothing to lose.

They went out into the bleak grey daylight, pulling their cloaks around their shoulders against a cold February wind. They crossed the market place and entered the Bull, where the Wigleigh folk were staying – paid for, Ralph presumed, by Lord William, without whose help they would not have begun this process. But Ralph had no doubt that his real enemy was William’s voluptuous, malevolent wife, Philippa, who seemed to hate Ralph, even though – or perhaps because – he found her fascinating and alluring.

Wulfric was up, and they found him eating porridge with bacon. When he saw Ralph his face turned thunderous and he rose from his seat.

Ralph put his hand on his sword, ready to fight there and then, but Menhin hastily stepped forward, holding his hands open in front of him in a conciliatory gesture. “I come as a friend, Wulfric,” he said. “Don’t get angry, or you’ll end up on trial instead of my brother.”

Wulfric remained standing with his hands at his sides. Ralph was disappointed: the agony of his suspense would have been eased by a fight.

Wulfric spat a piece of bacon rind on the floor and swallowed, then said: “What do you want, if not trouble?”

“To make a settlement. Ralph is willing to pay Annet ten pounds by way of recompense for what he did.”

Ralph was startled by the amount. Merthin would have to pay most of it – but he showed no hesitation.

Wulfric said: “Annet can’t withdraw the charge – it’s not allowed.”

“But she can alter her evidence. If she says that at first she consented, then changed her mind when it was too late, the jury wouldn’t convict Ralph.”

Ralph watched Wulfric’s face eagerly for a sign of willingness, but his expression remained stony, and he said: “So you’re offering her a bribe to commit perjury?”

Ralph began to despair. He could see that Wulfric did not want Annet to be paid money. Revenge was his aim, not compensation. He wanted a hanging.

Merthin said reasonably: “I’m offering her a different kind of justice.”

“You’re trying to get your brother off the hook.”

“Wouldn’t you do the same? You had a brother once.” Ralph recalled that Wulfric’s brother had been killed, along with his parents, when the bridge collapsed. Merthin went on: “Wouldn’t you try to save his life – even if he had done wrong?”

Wulfric appeared startled by this appeal to family feeling. Clearly it had never occurred to him to think of Ralph as someone with kinfolk who loved him. But he recovered after a moment and said: “My brother David would never have done what Ralph did.”

“Of course,” Merthin said soothingly. “All the same, you can’t blame me for wanting to find a way to save Ralph, especially if it can be managed without doing an injustice to Annet.”

Ralph admired his brother’s smooth way of talking. He could charm a bird out of a tree, he thought.

But Wulfric was not easily persuaded. “The villagers want to see the back of Ralph. They’re afraid he might do the same thing again.”

Merthin sidestepped that. “Perhaps you should put our offer to Annet. It should be her decision, surely.”

Wulfric looked thoughtful. “How could we be certain you would pay the money?”

Ralph’s heart leaped. Wulfric was softening.

Merthin replied: “We’ll give the cash to Caris Wooler before the trial. She will pay Annet after Ralph is declared innocent. You trust Caris, and we do too.”

Wulfric nodded. “As you say, it’s not my decision. I’ll put it to her.” He went upstairs.

Merthin let out his breath in a long sigh. “By heaven, there’s an angry man.”

“You talked him round, though,” Ralph said admiringly.

“He’s only agreed to pass on a message.”

They sat at the table Wulfric had vacated. A potboy asked them if they wanted breakfast, but they both refused. The parlour was full of guests calling for ham and cheese and ale. The inns were crowded with people attending the court. Unless they had a good excuse, all the knights of the shire were obliged to come, as were most other prominent men of the county: senior clergymen, wealthy merchants, and anyone with an income over forty pounds a year. Lord William, Prior Godwyn and Edmund Wooler were all included. Ralph and Merthin’s father, Sir Gerald, had been a regular attender before his fall from grace. They had to offer themselves as jurors and transact other business, such as paying their taxes or electing their Members of Parliament. In addition there was a host of accused men, victims, witnesses and sureties. A court brought a lot of business to the inns of a town.

Wulfric kept them waiting. Ralph said: “What do you think they’re talking about, up there?”

Merthin said: “Annet may be inclined to take the money. Her father would support her in that, and perhaps her husband, Billy Howard, too. But Wulfric is the type who thinks telling the truth is more important than money. His wife, Gwenda, will support him out of loyalty, and Father Gaspard will do the same on principle. Most importantly, they’ll have to consult Lord William; and he’ll do what Lady Philippa wants. She hates you, for some reason. On the other hand, a woman is more likely to choose reconciliation over confrontation.”

“So it could go either way.”