Michael JECKS - The Mad Monk of Gidleigh

‘Master, Sir Baldwin, I am glad you found our First Finder. Elias will help you.’

Elias shot him a look of hatred. He had spoken to Piers as a friend, as a neighbour and member of the same Frankpledge . Under the unwritten but perfectly comprehended rules of the vill, his words about Sir Ralph should have remained secret, but Piers’s tone gave him little hope that the Reeve would either leave him in peace or support him.

His feelings were plain, and when Piers glanced at him, he all but winced to see Elias’s face, but nothing would change his mind. Ever since he had walked with Flora towards the mill and learned that Esmon had tried to rape her, he had grown more determined to see Esmon pay for his crimes. ‘Elias may not know that Wylkyn’s body has disappeared, though.’

The old peasant stared at Piers dumbly. ‘Wylkyn’s gone?’

‘Somebody scared the shit out of my son last night,’ Piers nodded. ‘Took the body – we don’t know where. With all the rain, there’s little chance of tracking it down now, either.’

‘Elias,’ Baldwin said, ‘we don’t care about your role in reporting the body. The only point that concerns us is finding the body again for the Coroner. You understand? Otherwise the entire vill will be fined for concealing a murdered man.’

‘It was Osbert told me about him. Osbert was walking out that way and heard a fight or something, and when he carried on, he saw a body lying in the gulley near the wall there. So he came back here in a hurry and asked me to report it. See, they can’t fine me again – but it wouldn’t have been kind to Osbert to have that as well as poor Mary hanging over him.’

‘Poor Mary?’ Baldwin enquired. ‘What was she to him?’

‘Everyone knew Os adored her,’ Elias said shortly. ‘We hoped he’d pluck up courage and ask for her hand, but he never did. And she was a bit flighty. Didn’t want one of the dull-wits from round here, she used to say.’

‘Osbert?’ Simon mused. ‘Is that the lad who came to fetch me?’

Elias nodded.

‘Could this Os have raped and killed her in frustration, if he was so keen to possess her?’ Baldwin wondered.

‘We all know who killed Mary,’ Elias said gruffly. ‘It was that priest, Mark.’

‘You were there when the girl died, weren’t you?’ Simon asked.

‘Yes. Ploughing.’

His voice was toneless. Baldwin spoke softly, soothingly. ‘Friend, all we want is to find out who could have done these terrible things, that is all. Could you tell us anything you saw or heard that day?’

Elias told them again. He had repeated his tale so often in the last few days, it sprang to his mind as though he was watching the scene again even now.

‘It was quite a clear day,’ he began with a sigh. ‘I’d got up to the edge of the field, and the first few times all I could hear was the chopping of wood from hedge-laying on the other side of the lane. That was Osbert.’

‘I see. Right, continue!’

‘One time, when I came up to the top of the field, I heard voices. I knew them both. I’ve heard the priest often enough, and I’ve known Mary all her life. Didn’t think anything of it – why should I? The priest can talk to whoever he wants, can’t he?’

‘You’re sure you didn’t stop and listen a while?’ Simon said suspiciously.

Elias gazed at him scornfully. ‘You think they wouldn’t notice a plough suddenly stopping? They wouldn’t notice if Ben stopped urging the team on, if I stopped shouting, if the blade in the soil went quiet?’

‘Who’s this Ben?’ Simon asked.

‘Mary’s brother.’

‘So if he heard something odd, he’d have sung out by now,’ Simon said.

Elias was doubtful. ‘Perhaps. Ben never liked her much. Not recently, anyway.’

‘His own sister?’ Baldwin said.

‘No,’ Elias said, glancing at Piers for confirmation.

‘It’s true, Sir Baldwin,’ he said reluctantly. ‘There were rumours.’

‘There are always rumours. What were they?’

‘That Ben tried to molest his own sister.’

Baldwin felt as though he was closer to understanding the undercurrents of the vill. ‘You mean he tried to sleep with Mary?’

‘Yes. And she rejected him. It is only rumour,’ he added miserably.

‘Where did it originate, I wonder?’

‘With the young lads of the vill, I think. For my part I find it hard to believe, because it is so unnatural for a brother to lie with his sister, yet…’

‘Yet?’

‘Mary was a very pretty child. All the men would watch her when she passed by. And during a long, cold winter, a boy could seek comfort and solace in the arms of his sister. Who knows? Perhaps one thing led to another. And then he bragged about it with his friends, perhaps. I have heard of such things before.’

‘So have I,’ said Baldwin. Unnatural though such behaviour was, it was not unknown.

He gave Elias a nod. ‘Continue.’

‘That was all. When I was done, I sent the boy to open the gate, and I went out after the team. He stayed there to shut the gate while I carried on back towards the barton…’

‘Where would this be?’ Baldwin asked smoothly.

‘Down at the bottom of Deave Lane, by the ford at the brook.’

‘Go on.’

‘When we got along the road a ways, we saw her. Down on the ground by the hedge.’

‘Which side of the lane?’

‘On my right.’

‘So the opposite side of the road from your ploughing?’

‘Yes. She was there, and there was blood all about her… you know. Her legs were wide enough to see where it all came from.’

‘You noticed her instantly, so I assume anyone else passing there must have seen her?’

‘Oh, yes. No one could have missed that sight.’

‘You saw no sign of the priest at this stage?’

‘No, he’d been long gone, I’d reckon.’

Simon sniffed. ‘You say there were rumours about this Ben. Did he leave the field at any time?’

Elias scuffed a boot in the dirt. ‘Not that I remember.’

Baldwin eyed him. There was a strangeness about him, as though Elias thought this was hardly worth his consideration. Perhaps he was merely convinced of the priest’s guilt, he thought.

‘So you did… what?’

‘I didn’t want Ben to see his sister like that, so I sent the boy down to the barton to call for help, while I stood there with the oxen. They grazed on the stuff at the side of the road.’

‘What of the man laying the hedge… Osbert, you said?’ Baldwin asked, glancing at Piers.

‘He was gone by then, but he’d not have done anything to hurt her.’

‘Why?’

‘Because he loved her, Sir Baldwin. Everyone knew that. He was after her like a tom cat after his queen.’

‘Sometimes I have found that those who love the strongest are also those who are swiftest to kill in jealousy,’ Baldwin commented. Something made him glance up at Piers. The Reeve was staring fixedly at Elias. The peasant was clearly feeling more comfortable, his head was up again, and he had stopped staring at Baldwin’s boots.

‘Tell me, what else did you see that day, Elias?’ he asked suavely.

‘Nothing.’

‘There was something that made you very fearful for your own safety, wasn’t there? Did you see the murderer – is that it?’

‘I didn’t see no murder,’ Elias said doggedly, his head dropping again.

‘But you saw something else, didn’t you? Or was it some one else? Yes, that is it, is it not? You saw someone riding past, before you saw her body. Did that someone ask you to report the body so that they could make good their own escape?’

‘No, nothing like that.’

‘Then what? Come along, man – speak!’ Baldwin burst out, and then he felt Simon’s hand on his arm. The realisation hit him like a blow as he saw Elias’s eyes flicker up at the castle walls behind them. That was why he thought Ben was irrelevant! There was genuine fear in his face, as though he was worried that Sir Ralph himself might have heard the demand and might seek to punish the man who spoke and gave away secrets to a foreign Keeper.