Michael JECKS - The Mad Monk of Gidleigh

‘So you admit to seeing the murder? And what happened to the body?’

Alan said, ‘We didn’t see what happened. They took us away.’

‘Where did it happen?’ Coroner Roger asked.

‘Up on the road on our way here.’

‘Your companion’s body was found but now it’s gone,’ Baldwin said. ‘So you will have to be arrested and held until we can verify your stories and make sure you’ll turn up to the next Keeper’s court, and then to the Justices when they eventually get here.’

‘But all we did was get attacked and have our stuff stolen! Where’s the fairness in that?’

‘This has nothing to do with fairness, lad, this is all down to the law,’ the Coroner intoned gravely. ‘A man was murdered and you were with him. Perhaps you two killed him.’

‘Christ Jesus!’

‘And if you use profane language, you will suffer further,’ Baldwin said.

‘How much more can we suffer?’ Saul demanded bitterly. ‘We have been taken and held against our will, left under guard, had our goods ransacked and some of them stolen, been beaten, and now we can’t even go to our homes because a Coroner has taken us and wants us to accuse our attacker. Apart from him taking us prisoner again, maybe ransoming us to the value of all we own, or maybe just killing us, how can things get any worse for us?’

‘They could well have been worse,’ Baldwin said. ‘You have been taken by the King’s Keeper and a Coroner. You are witnesses to a crime, not the men who committed it.’

They rode on in silence, creaking and rattling along until they reached the place where the attack had taken place. There the carters sat sullenly, reluctant to speak, while Baldwin and Simon surveyed the land once more.

‘Come! Tell us what happened,’ Simon said. ‘The sooner you get that over with, the sooner you can be away.’

Saul and Alan exchanged a look, and then Saul hawked and spat. ‘All right. We were travelling past here, part of a small group on the way to Chagford. We knew that there was a risk that Sir Ralph’s men could try to rob us. It’s happened to loads of others all the time up here. Not this far north, though. This is right on the South Tawton boundary, and the lord there is quick to take offence on his lands. We thought we were safe enough here.’

‘You were caught in the open?’ Baldwin said, gazing about him at the hill, the roadway, and then the wall down the slope.

‘Yes. The bastards appeared from nowhere, shrieking and howling, riding up along the slope, then spurring their damned horses straight at us, apart from one or two who went behind us. There was nothing we could do. Those who could, whipped up to come down here, but the wall stopped us all. And it was here Wylkyn got it, I reckon.’

‘What happened to him? Was he at the front?’ Baldwin asked keenly.

‘No, he was near the back. Soon as the shouting started, he hurried down to the wall. Most of us just surrendered. After all, this lot were after money, not lives. But we never saw him again, and you say he was found dead.’

‘No other man tried to protect his cart?’ Baldwin pressed him.

Saul looked at Alan.

It was Alan who responded. ‘Some did, yes, but they had their weapons knocked away.’

‘I see. What then?’

‘It was–’

‘Alan!’ Saul rasped.

Simon moved languidly, a hand grasping Saul’s tunic and pulling. With a short squeak, Saul fell from the cart. In a moment he was up, hot indignation making him blind to the Bailiff’s position. He made to try to punch Simon, but the Bailiff knocked his fist wide, yanked at his arm and pulled him backwards. His forearm went about Saul’s throat and he said mildly, ‘If you dare try anything else, I’ll have you imprisoned for assault on a Stannary Bailiff while he’s trying to do his duty. Understand?’

Saul nodded, his anger dissipating quickly as he struggled to breathe. Simon released him and turned back to Alan. ‘“It was”, you were going to say?’

‘Sir Ralph’s son Esmon led the men,’ Alan said after throwing an anguished look at Saul. ‘He hared off after Wylkyn, and caught up with us all further on. If anyone killed Wylkyn, it was him. He had blood on his face and tunic.’

‘What then?’

‘They took us to the castle, where they demanded money and goods before leaving us locked overnight in a grotty little room near the gatehouse.’

‘The body, though: did they drag it behind them, throw it onto a cart – what?’ Baldwin demanded. Piers had said the body had been left, but he could have lied.

‘No. We didn’t see it.’

‘But the body has disappeared?’ Coroner Roger said. ‘Who could have taken it?’

‘I was hoping that one of these could tell us,’ Baldwin admitted. ‘But they seem to have little idea. No more than you or I.’

‘Hmm.’ The Coroner’s face was bleak. ‘I have had too much experience of fools trying to conceal bodies in the last few years.’

‘Well, let us see if even now we can’t find his resting place,’ Baldwin said firmly.

Flora was about to call to Osbert when she saw the figure ahead. With a small gasp of relief, for she had been pushing through these woods for a while without seeing any sign of him, she stepped forward into a clearing.

Instantly she saw her mistake. It wasn’t Os, it was Esmon, and as soon as she stepped out into the open, he turned and saw her.

‘Ah – you’ve saved me a journey!’ he said. ‘I was just coming to see you.’

‘What did you want with me?’

Esmon grinned crookedly, and she felt a stab at her heart as he said, ‘I was hoping to talk to you for a time. How are you since your sister’s death?’

Flora cast a look behind her. There were too many brambles for her to escape quickly, for her long skirts would snag and tangle in the thorns. There was no sign of Os, either. Suddenly Flora felt very lonely – and threatened – a feeling which grew as Esmon took another step or two towards her.

‘Flora, I was very sorry that your sister died.’

She looked at him, but now there was a faint narrowing of her eyes. There had been an odd tone to his voice. ‘We all were,’ she said quietly, her head averted.

‘Yes, but she was so…’

Flora was anxious and took a step away from Esmon.

‘Don’t be scared, maid,’ he said soothingly.

‘I have to go.’

‘Where?’ He saw her confusion. ‘Come, maid, let me calm you. Why don’t we sit down here?’

‘After you tried to rape me?’

‘I?’

‘On your horse. Thank God your father protected me!’

‘Oh, that!’ he grinned. ‘That wasn’t meant to scare you, it was only a little fun! Did I scare you? Come here, let me calm you. I wouldn’t want to hurt you, maid.’

Flora retreated slowly as he advanced, but now she felt a tree at her back.

‘Please, Flora, give me your hand that I might kiss it.’

‘Leave me! Please, just leave me!’ she burst out. All her fears and sorrow seemed to rip from her breast, and she felt sick and dizzy, as though she was about to faint. There was a real sense of nausea, but then it went. He reached out to her, and she saw his hand hovering as though to grab at her breast, and that was enough. There was an explosion of fury in her mind, and she ran at him, screaming, beating at his face and chest with her clenched fists in futile rage.

He caught her wrists, raised her arms easily, and gazed down the length of her body. ‘Christ Jesus, but you’re lovely, aren’t you?’

That was when she shrieked, a high, thin, keening noise like a rabbit in a trap. She jabbed with a knee, but he dodged, and she caught only his thigh. She felt Esmon forcing her to her knees, she was being pulled over his leg, she couldn’t stay upright, she was held only by his hands on her wrists and he was setting her down. Then she grew aware of a man in among the trees. As Esmon gave a low chuckle, she saw a face: it was Os, and as she cast him a look, she saw Os step forward, an axe in his hands.