Michael JECKS - The Mad Monk of Gidleigh

‘Nothing,’ Elias said, his head drooping once more.

‘It was Esmon, was it?’ Baldwin said.

‘I didn’t see him !’ Elias stated.

There was no doubting the sincerity of his voice. ‘Are you sure? Then it was Sir Ralph.’

Elias hunched his shoulders as though hiding his head. ‘I didn’t say that.’

‘I am Keeper of the King’s Peace. Do you deny you saw Sir Ralph?’ Baldwin demanded. ‘If I learn you have lied to me, Elias, I can have you gaoled in Exeter until you decide to answer. Do you want that?’

‘I have to choose that or saying my master’s a murderer, do I?’

‘All you need do is speak the truth!’

‘It was him,’ Elias sighed. ‘I saw Sir Ralph ride past, but not Esmon.’

Simon was watching a group leaving the castle’s gate. Two men caught his eye. One was Osbert, the other a younger lad with dark eyes who glanced in Simon’s direction and then looked away quickly, as though anxious not to attract attention to himself. ‘Who’s that with Osbert?’

‘Ben, Mary’s brother.’

‘Hugh, fetch them here,’ Simon said and, grunting rebelliously, Hugh made his way to them. Soon they were standing before Simon and Baldwin, Osbert plainly worried, while Ben made a show of being unconcerned, but they stood uncomfortably, some little distance apart, as though disliking the fact that they were together.

Simon considered them a long moment, but then he noticed a bush tied over the doorway of a house further up the road, a little way from the castle, and he glanced at Baldwin. ‘Let’s get away from this castle. It’s giving me the feeling we’re constantly being watched.’

It was only a cheap ale-house. The farmer’s wife made a few pennies by selling ale to passers-by when she had a little too much brewed. It wasn’t the best ale Simon had ever tried, but it certainly wasn’t the worst either, and he sat on a table outside her doorway, Baldwin beside him with his arms crossed, while they questioned the men.

‘Osbert. We’ve heard that you found Wylkyn’s body. Why did you hide that fact?’

Os shot Elias a look, but the older peasant was staring at the bush over the door, and Os had to resort to cursing him inwardly. ‘I… I knew Elias had already found one body. It made sense to ask him to look for Wylkyn as well.’

‘To evade your fines,’ Baldwin observed. ‘Never mind that for now. When the Coroner arrives, perhaps we can give him the facts and save your money for you. In the meantime, what can you tell us about Wylkyn’s body?’

‘He’d been badly cut about. I heard his screams and went up there, but then I saw that it was quite a band of Esmon’s men, and didn’t get involved. I’d just have got killed. Later, when they’d gone off with the carts to get them to pay their tolls, I looked over the place and found Wylkyn.’

‘Why would Esmon’s men have gone there?’

Osbert shrugged. With Mary’s death, life meant little to him any more, and if he could help put the noose about Esmon’s neck, so much the better. Everyone feared him and his men-at-arms after their robberies and rapings. ‘To rob them? They’ve often raided travellers, demanding tolls where none are due. That’s what they did the other day; they killed Wylkyn, but took all the rest to the castle. I suppose they went through all the goods and stole what they wanted.’

Simon and Baldwin exchanged a look. This was a serious felony. Osbert’s evidence, if corroborated, could lead to Esmon and his father being arrested. Not, Baldwin told himself, that it would mean they would be forced to suffer the full penalty of law, for they had friends in high places, but even so, it would lead to shame.

He nodded towards the road that led to the mill. ‘What of the girl Mary? We hear you loved her.’

Os reddened. ‘I did,’ he said stoutly, as though daring anyone to comment.

There was no laughter, but for a small snigger from Ben. Baldwin immediately turned his attention to the lad. ‘You were with Elias here when your sister was killed. Did you notice anything about her body?’

‘Yes. She was dead,’ Ben said sarcastically.

‘How could you tell?’ Baldwin didn’t like this boy. Ben was glib and disrespectful, which was not the attitude of someone trying to help find the murderer of his beloved sister. He stood insolently, as though scarcely listening to Baldwin’s questions, a small-framed lad clad in a good quality woollen tunic and soft linen hose.

Ben shrugged. ‘Elias told me.’

‘I tried to keep the sight from him,’ Elias explained sombrely. ‘I went to her and left Ben holding the oxen. When I saw what had happened, I sent him to fetch help and stayed with her body.’

‘You did well,’ Baldwin said and turned back to Ben. ‘Do you think Mark could have killed your sister?’

‘Him? I suppose so. She was all over him most of the time. Slobbering like a bitch on heat. Probably thought she could get him to throw in his place as a priest like old Surval the Hermit.’

‘He did what?’ Baldwin said.

Piers said, ‘He used to be a priest, but got thrown out of his church because he did something. Don’t know what, but he feels the guilt still.’

‘We shall ask him. Osbert, you were out there that day when Mary was killed. Do you think it could have been Mark?’

‘I was working at the hedge at the time. I didn’t hear anything apart from the noise of the oxen and Ben calling to them. And I couldn’t see anyone in the roadway. Only someone on horseback would have been visible to me.’

‘You had left before Elias and Ben?’

‘Yes. I had to go to the mill and help Huward.’

‘You did not see the body when you went to the mill?’ Baldwin said.

‘I didn’t go by the lane,’ Os said. ‘I went over the fields back to the vill, then took the lane from there down to the mill.’

‘Did you see Sir Ralph or his son?’

‘I saw Sir Ralph,’ Osbert agreed, frowning with the effort of recollection. ‘He was down at the bottom of the road on his horse when I saw him. That was where I reached the road myself.’

‘What of Esmon?’ Simon asked. ‘Did anyone see him?’

‘Yes,’ Ben said. ‘He was down near the castle when I got there. He had mud all over his legs, as if he’d been riding up on the moors.’

‘Why would he have gone up there?’ Simon wondered aloud. ‘Was he hunting?’

‘He had no dogs.’ Ben shrugged.

Baldwin was watching him closely. ‘Master Ben, you seem entirely unaffected by losing your sister.’

‘I have another one!’

His glib reply made Simon want to hit him, and he was seeking for a sharp response when he saw Osbert’s face. The strong peasant looked as though he could break into tears at any moment. Rather than upset Os further, Simon said, ‘Where were you on the day that this Wylkyn died?’

‘I was in a tavern. There were plenty of men there to vouch for me, too.’

‘Is there anything else you want to tell us?’ Baldwin said, looking from one to another of them, but all their long faces told him that there was nothing more to learn here. The only one who looked less than worried was Ben. He waved at the alewife to demand drink as Baldwin watched. His insouciance was insufferable, but there was nothing Baldwin could do about a man who was so uncaring about his own sister.

‘We should go,’ he muttered. ‘We have to find the body of this Wylkyn and ensure that Mark is released into our custody.’

‘I don’t understand what you keep asking about Mary’s death for anyway,’ Ben said. He had a large pot of cider now, which he drank steadily, spilling some down his chin and throat. Gasping, he signed for another pot. ‘The Coroner and everyone else are content that Mark was Mary’s murderer. What do you expect to find?’