Michael JECKS - The Mad Monk of Gidleigh

‘I didn’t think he could have been telling the truth. It sounded like a pleasing excuse, a way of escaping your anger, nothing more.’

‘And you saw a means of acquiring another chapel for no effort,’ Sir Baldwin said with poisonous sweetness. ‘You couldn’t tell Sir Ralph that this boy was his own son, could you? If Sir Ralph knew that, he would move Heaven and earth to protect his son and leave him there in his chapel, where Sir Ralph could meet him often.’

‘Oh, nonsense!’ Roger said nervously.

Suddenly Sir Ralph’s forearm was across Roger Scut’s windpipe. ‘Is it true?’ he demanded through gritted teeth. ‘Did you conceal my paternity from me to enrich your purse? If you did, as there’s a God in Heaven, I’ll cut out your heart and feed it to the pigs, Master Priest!’

‘I have done nothing of the sort!’ Roger Scut squeaked. He couldn’t swallow now, and the pain was increasing.

‘Leave him, Sir Ralph! You can’t evade your guilt and sins by attacking another.’

‘Get off me!’

Simon was about to take hold of Sir Ralph’s arm to release Roger Scut – with a degree of reluctance, admittedly – when there came another interruption. At the gate, a man on the wall cried out to the gatekeeper. ‘Shut the gates, and do it quick!’

Hearing the shout, Brian came out from the buttery where he had been enjoying his morning whet with another man-at-arms. ‘What is it?’

‘Men. Looks like twenty or so, marching here with a man leading them on horseback.’

Baldwin and Simon exchanged a glance.

‘What’s all this about?’ Sir Ralph asked distractedly. ‘Who can they be?’

‘It is the Coroner, I expect,’ Baldwin said soothingly. ‘He was expecting Simon and me last night, and when we didn’t turn up, I suppose he grew concerned.’

‘And since I am such a foul brigand, he assumed I’d have imprisoned you and tried to persuade you to give me all your fortune?’ Sir Ralph said caustically.

‘Sir Ralph, you can’t let these two go.’ It was Brian of Doncaster. He had strolled over to them, his hands in his belt.

‘Don’t tell me what I can do with guests in my own castle.’

‘I have to. You would risk my life and the lives of my men if you opened that gate. The Coroner isn’t here for these men only, is he? He’s here because of the raiding and the murder of Wylkyn. I can’t have you opening the gates and surrendering the place. You do that, you’ll put all our necks in the noose.’

‘Open the gate!’ Sir Ralph roared. ‘You: Keeper! Open the gate, I said. Slide back the bars.’

The gatekeeper smiled and nodded, but then looked at Brian, who shook his head and said, ‘It stays barred until I say it can open.’

The Coroner wasn’t surprised to find the gates closed to him. This was the home of a felon and brigand, and any large force must make him seek safety first, rather than risking an invasion.

‘Wait here,’ he commanded. Thomas and Godwen were with him as his Lieutenants, and both nodded. He rode to the gate and bellowed in his loudest voice, ‘Open this gate in the name of the King!’

‘Who demands it?’

A face had appeared on the wall near the gate itself, and Coroner Roger directed his attention to the man. ‘Are you Sir Ralph?’

‘No, I’m his Constable. Who are you? What do you want here?’

‘I am the King’s Coroner, and I want to talk to your master about the murder of Wylkyn the miner, and about the arrest and imprisonment of my own servants.’

‘Wylkyn died trying to attack Sir Ralph’s son Esmon, and as for your servants, there had been a theft in the area. It was our duty to preserve the King’s Peace, and we arrested them in good faith. Now if you intend to hold an inquest into the death of the miner, tell us when and where and my master will attend, but we will not throw open the gates to everyone who demands it at the head of a small host.’

‘You will open this gate in the King’s name, or you will be kept inside to starve.’

‘You can sit there outside as long as you want, friend, but we have plenty of stores here. Now leave the gate unless you want an arrow to speed you on your way!’

‘You dare to threaten a Coroner? Fetch out your master, you brigand!’

‘Call me a brigand?’ Brian called sharply, and snatched up a crossbow. He aimed it at Coroner Roger. ‘You will not speak to Sir Ralph while you wait there at his gate like a thief! What, do you want to take his castle for yourself? Get away before I loose this bolt!’

‘I shall not go until I speak to the master of the castle!’

‘He orders me to hold you away. Would you have me break my master’s lawful command? Go!’

It didn’t occur to Coroner Roger that he was speaking to a mutineer, so he was in two minds. There was no clamour of fighting from the rear of the castle as yet, and he would have expected some noise by now. If he remained, he was sure that he would soon be punctured by the man’s bolt, but if he left, it could mean that the men attempting to scale the walls might be seen and slaughtered.

‘Very well, I shall go. But first, ask your Lord to come here. I want to speak to him about the inquest.’

‘You aren’t listening, are you? I told you, he said I was to come up here and hold you away. He won’t come.’

‘What of his son? Is Esmon in the castle?’

‘Old man, I am growing bored with your questions. Go back to your tavern and wait. We’ll send for you when my master wants to speak with you.’

‘I shall, but first–’

Brian heard it a moment before Coroner Roger, and he whirled around, frowning. There had been a cry of pain; only quiet, but it sounded like the call of a man who was suddenly struck down. Brian had been a warrior too long to mistake the noise.

The Keeper and his Bailiff friend were still down there in the yard with two men guarding each, while Sir Ralph was a short way away with another three men about him. None of them had broken free, so far as Brian could see. No, the call came from somewhere else. In the hall, he knew, Esmon was sitting with a crossbow pointing at his breast. There was no sign that he had escaped.

Brian turned back to the Coroner, but there was a niggling doubt in his mind. This little uprising of his had been thought out long ago, but now he had implemented it, he was nervous. It had seemed the ideal time to take over the castle, when he heard that there was a small band arriving to question Sir Ralph, because it gave Brian and his men the excuse to kill Sir Ralph and Esmon while blaming the attackers. Brian and his men would swear that they had turned to support the Coroner’s men, and had had to kill Sir Ralph and Esmon because they refused to put up their weapons. Easy. And while the Coroner investigated, Brian and his men could have it away on their feet with any of Sir Ralph’s plate and money they could lay their hands on. There was little need to fear a small local force such as the one which the Coroner had brought. In Brian’s band there were men who had killed and fought in battles up and down the kingdom.

Yet there was something amiss. A man had cried out. Where, and who was it?

Lady Annicia retired to her solar with Flora as soon as Mark fell. The sight of Sir Baldwin swiping the clerk’s hand off, the blood fountaining from the stump spattering the tables, made the Lady curl her lip in distaste, but she saw that Flora was close to fainting.

‘Come, child!’ she said, leading Flora from the room and through into the solar.

Ben had leaped to his feet, and now he stayed at the back of the hall staring about him at the clerk, Sir Baldwin and the other men as though expecting to be run through himself at any moment. He scarcely glanced at his sister as Lady Annicia gently pulled Flora after her.