Michael JECKS - The Mad Monk of Gidleigh

‘Do you want the ladies’ blood on your hands?’ Squire Hubert demanded. ‘Come, we have to let him go, and as soon as he’s ridden off, we can attack him.’

‘This man is no fool,’ Baldwin said. ‘Right, Squire, take four men and remove all the horses from the stables. There will be none here when they come out. All of them, mind. I don’t want one left. Simon, when he comes out, we can offer him sanctuary, but I won’t have him leave this vill without releasing the women.’

‘Very well.’

They could see Squire Hubert at the stables. In a moment there was an alarmed neighing, a scattering of hooves, and then a sudden explosion of noise as men bellowed and shouted at the sight of all the castle’s horses pelting out of the stables. Some few beasts became lost and milled about the yard, their metal-shod hooves a threat to all the men who approached, but then they realised where the gate was, and there was a clattering as they galloped off, out of the castle and through to the road. Baldwin, glancing quickly after them, saw Squire Hubert and two other men on their own horses rallying them all and keeping them together in a tight pack.

When he looked back, he saw Brian at the window, his face a picture of dismay. That gave Baldwin some satisfaction for a moment, but then came the call once more.

‘That was clever, Sir Keeper, but not clever enough! If you want one of these women to live, you’d best decide which is the one worth saving, because one of them is going to get cut into little pieces for what you just did. Tell me which shall live, which shall die. There’s no hurry.’

‘Burn them out,’ Godwen said. ‘That’s the only way.’

‘Don’t be mad! That would enrage them further and guarantee that they would kill their hostages,’ Baldwin snarled.

‘Sir Baldwin. Let me go in!’ Osbert had joined the Coroner’s men, and he gripped his axe like a man who was desperate to hew at something other than wood. ‘She’s my sister, Sir Baldwin. Let me get her out.’

‘How? If you know of a way inside, tell us!’

Osbert gave a dry smile. ‘There’s always a back passage. If you can distract them here, at the front of the place, I can get in, if you have a ladder.’

Baldwin gained the impression of great confidence. He nodded slowly, but then he noticed some logs waiting to be cut for timber or firewood, and began to speak to Simon about creating a diversion.

The room felt hot. Brian wiped at his face with his sleeve, listening intently. He had two hostages and he was keen to lose neither, but he didn’t expect that he would be permitted to live. The expression on Sir Baldwin’s face had told him that. There was a rage that was near to madness in the knight’s eyes and Brian was quite sure that he would be executed before he could find a mount. Especially now the bastard had loosed all the animals from the stables.

Flora and Annicia sat mute. Both had the look of women who scarcely cared now whether they might live or die. Flora’s bodice was drenched in blood from her brother’s death. She had gone to him as soon as his head began to bounce, and cradled his body with the blood pumping obscenely from the severed neck. Annicia was little better. She had heard that her only son and her husband had been slaughtered by this man, and now she was numb to any fresh pain. There was nothing left.

They were no risk, Brian thought contemptuously. But others were. Nobody would be of a mind to commit arson here, yet there was too much silence for them not to be plotting. He had to know what Sir Baldwin and the other attackers intended. It was maddening, this uncertainty. Surely there must be a sign or noise of some sort soon. Surprise, that was what a leader of men always sought, and no doubt that was what the Keeper was planning, but Brian hoped that the knight would hurry up. The waiting was a terrible strain. His nerves were already frayed, and the idea that after so much thought and planning, his attempt at taking over the place was all to cock, was truly infuriating.

He slammed a fist into a table top, making it jump, and as it settled, he thought he heard something. A quiet, scraping noise that came from the back of the hall, maybe up in the solar.

Then there was a crash at the main door, and the whole hall seemed to shake with the impact. The bars across the door jumped in their seats, and one of Brian’s men let out a nervous cry. It would have affected their morale, but another man let out a fart, and that had the opposite impact. Men laughed, tested their blades, shifted their jacks about their shoulders, and faced the direction of the threat.

Brian himself stood at the front. There was another thundering noise like a massive hammer, and the timbers of the door could be heard to strain. Brian was uncertain whether to wait here or go to the women and hold a knife to their throats. That way, any man entering the hall would see him, and surely understand the message: ‘Set us loose or both die.’

A third shattering blow hit the door, and this time the entire door frame seemed to move. The bars moved in their sockets and creaked, and Brian went to the women, pulling out his knife as he went.

But the tapestries moved as though in a gust of wind. For a second he hesitated, and as a fourth shock swept through the hall, the tapestries were suddenly swept aside, and in rushed three armed men.

It was the garderobe that gave them access. Os, like many others, had collected the box filled with wood ash from beneath the seat of the little room fitted on the outer wall of the solar. The room was shingled, and it took Os only a few minutes, once he had manhandled the ladder into place, to remove some of the thin chestnut tiles and open the roof. From then, he could climb in, axe held ready, and wait for Baldwin and Simon to join him.

Simon felt as though there was a thrilling in his veins, as if a thousand thousand birds were beating their wings along each of his limbs, the soft fluttering heightening all his senses, making his ears hear with greater sensitivity, making his eyes see more clearly, making his brain operate at twice its normal speed.

It was only the three of them. Baldwin wanted the rest of the men to grab the largest baulk of timber and pound at the door. That would distract Brian and his men. Meanwhile, the three would enter by the garderobe, hurry downstairs, and attack from inside. Osbert’s task was to get to the door and break or remove the bars so that all the others could pile inside. Baldwin and Simon would hold off the others so he could do so. They had crept down the stairs, soon reaching the lower chamber. There they found the guard whom Lady Annicia had killed. The door beyond was open, and they stood a moment listening. Then, on Baldwin’s count of three, they thrust the curtains aside and ran in.

Brian was in the middle of the floor. He saw Baldwin and turned to face him with a snarl on his face, still holding his crossbow. Osbert saw it, but ignored the danger. He ran straight on, past Brian, who turned to try to fire at him, but he was too slow, and the bolt went wide, punching a neat hole in the plaster of the wall. Then Osbert was at Brian’s men. His axe rose and swept around. Blood flew in gouts, and then he was at the bars.

The men tried to stop him. He had shattered the skull of one, who fell instantly. A second had a vast gouge in his shoulder, which had a flap of skin that flopped wildly, but the two last men were unhurt, and even as they reeled from the shock of Osbert’s attack, they were preparing to stop him reaching the door, for all could see his intention.

It was Simon who now flew at them. While Os thumped into the door at full speed and began to drag at the timbers, Simon arrived behind them with a scream so intense, so visceral, that one man shrieked in response. Both turned to fight him, forgetting for a moment the threat that Os posed. He pulled the first bar fully back, reached for the second and hauled, but the thing was stuck fast. It wouldn’t move. The pressure from outside had pinned the wood in the stone slot, and he couldn’t make it shift. He cursed, sweat pouring from his brow, and then punched it with main force. In his fist he felt a bone crunch and break, and then the bar moved, just a little, and he could slide it back.