The Mad Monk of Gidleigh

Chapter Nineteen

The room erupted. Suddenly the peasants were roused, thinking this was proof that Mark was not even a clerk, that he had been misleading them all the months when he had been at the altar.

‘That bastard!’

‘He’s a liar!’

‘Are our souls damned?’ one man asked, looking fearful.

The fellow at his side had a more mundane interest. ‘Where did all our gifts to the chapel go, then?’

As the men started to move towards Mark, Baldwin grabbed the arms of his Constables and shoved them forward so that they stood at Mark’s side, Thomas with bared teeth like an enraged mastiff, Godwen languid, but none the less intimidating for that, like a snake lying bathing in the sun. Baldwin whipped his sword from its scabbard and roared for silence. One man pressed forward as though to reach Mark, but Baldwin’s point pricked his arm, and he changed his mind, withdrawing with a scowl and a curse. Simon, he could feel, was beside him, Hugh too, with his long-bladed knife in his hand, and it would be a hard fight for any man who wanted to reach Mark. Yet unless Baldwin took control, it was possible that the men might try just that. They were furious, believing that they had legal sanction to attack this man who had professed to being a clerk.

He did not know, nor did he care, what motive Roger Scut had for implying that Mark was no cleric. All he knew was that unless he acted swiftly, Mark would be hanged out of hand like any other felon whose guilt had been established.

‘Silence! I am Keeper of the King’s Peace, and I will see justice done here!’ he roared at the top of his voice, glaring balefully at Brian, who had his hand resting on his sword’s hilt. Baldwin pointed at him. ‘You! Help to keep order in your lord’s court. You want to see a murder done in his own hall? All of you: LISTEN!’ he bellowed, feeling his face redden with sudden anger. ‘If this man is harmed I shall order the whole vill to be amerced to the fullest extent for petty treason against your lord, for mutiny and murder! You are all in Frankpledge – any man who tries to attack me or this man here will suffer the consequences in my court as Keeper of the King’s Peace.’

There was a less enthusiastic shuffling now. Baldwin caught sight of a man who looked as though he might try to push his way forward, but saw another grab his hand. The threat against their Frankpledge was working.

It had all happened so swiftly, it seemed that most of the men were stunned, many of them shocked by the urge to commit sudden violence. Five men, Baldwin saw, were left with different emotions.

Sir Ralph and Roger Scut had not moved. Sir Ralph sat as before, but his face showed his rage. He had wanted Mark to be killed, Baldwin guessed. Roger Scut, who had appeared excited and hopeful as the crowd jumped to pull Mark outside, now looked merely bored, although Baldwin caught a glimpse of something when their eyes met – perhaps frustration that the near execution, caused by his own deliberate lack of enthusiasm in Mark’s defence, had not succeeded. It was a consideration that made Baldwin want still more to have a chance to talk to him.

Esmon, still at the wall, had made no move to protect his parents, nor to go to the defence of Mark. He still leaned against the wall, a couple of men-at-arms at his side, conversing with one, and staring, Baldwin noticed, fixedly at him.

Piers was the only man from the vill who had sprung to Mark’s aid, and he stood at Simon and Hugh’s side, a sturdy club in his hand, glaring about him like a crazed warrior waiting for the first blow to be struck – eager, so it seemed, to retaliate.

‘You thought you’d break our master’s hall? What’s got into you all? Are you gone mad? Calm down, the lot of you, before I use this to calm you meself!’

‘You blame us? That priest there tells us that this turd is no man of God, and you blame us for our anger? What’s the matter with you, Piers? Lost your cods? You’d be happy to see the killer of my daughter walk free just so that you can announce there’s been no fighting in the court? Ballocks, I say!’

‘Huward, restrain yourself. Would it serve Mary’s memory for you to be hanged because of disrespect to your lord? You want to die like that?’

Baldwin was glad to see that Huward hung his head and turned away. He could have sprung forwards even so, but other men, probably those from his own frankpledge, were there to surround him, shielding Mark with their bodies, and Baldwin felt safe enough to gaze about him again, meeting the faces of all the men in the room and staring down those who looked most truculent.

‘Sir Ralph, I demand that this court be closed now so that men might recover their senses. It is clear enough to me that the boy here is a priest and that he deserves the protection of the court and all your men.’

‘I don’t need you to tell me my responsibilities. The priest here only said that any cleric should know his Placebo – he didn’t say this man wasn’t a priest.’

Baldwin slowly surveyed the room. ‘Sir Ralph, I demand that you release this fellow into my hands as Keeper of the King’s Peace. It is clear to me that your villeins are convinced that he is not entitled to Benefit of Clergy and that his life is at risk.’

‘He is under my protection,’ Sir Ralph said testily. ‘This is my court, and I will not relinquish him.’

‘I demand–’

‘You have no right to demand anything!’ Sir Ralph suddenly spat. He leaned forward in his seat as though to launch himself at Baldwin, but his wife put a hand out and caught his wrist. The knight hesitated as she spoke.

‘Sir Baldwin, I agree with you. Any harm that might come to him will be the responsibility of Gidleigh. His safety must be paramount.’

‘You shall look after him, then, until Scut and I can get him back to the Bishop,’ Baldwin said with a slight bow.

‘Yes, I shall hold him.’ Sir Ralph smiled humourlessly. ‘I shall keep him safe in the comfort of my little gaol.’

‘If he dies, I shall inform the good Bishop that you allowed his death through negligence,’ Baldwin stated sharply. He had little choice, he knew. This was Sir Ralph’s court.

The knight shrugged. ‘You know as well as I that the death of a prisoner from cold or hunger is death by natural causes. I’m sure he’ll enjoy my hospitality while we wait to receive the letters he says the good Bishop sent him and which are held in his chest. No doubt they will prove his innocence.’

‘The chapel is burned! Any letters have been destroyed!’ Esmon called. ‘He can’t recite his prayers and I say we should hang him. He killed the girl, let him pay.’

‘I will reserve judgement until I see the letters,’ Sir Ralph said. ‘If they have burned, we must send to the Bishop for copies or confirmation that this man is a priest.’ He spoke as though reluctantly, and Baldwin was struck with the feeling that Sir Ralph had aged in the last few minutes, like a man who has realised he has failed someone he loved. Baldwin could not help but glance at Annicia as Sir Ralph waved an arm, stood, and walked heavily from the room.

Lady Annicia was sitting as though she was entirely indifferent to the outcome of this discussion, but her face was blank only in appearance because she was controlling herself with difficulty. Utter dejection was revealed on her face. As Baldwin watched, fascinated, he saw her eyes glitter with hatred, and he saw that she was staring at Huward.

‘What in God’s name can you have against him?’ he wondered, but then he gladly helped Mark to his feet and watched as he was taken away.

He himself was not convinced of Mark’s innocence, but he was quite sure of one thing, that Mark was definitely a priest; and, he reminded himself as he looked towards the table again, that Roger Scut had betrayed him.

Walking from the room, he didn’t notice that Lady Annicia motioned to a servant, pointed to Huward, and spoke softly.

Elias had intended to escape the place as soon as Sir Ralph declared that the court was to adjourn, but he wasn’t fast enough to escape Simon. Before he could reach the roadway at the front of the castle, Hugh had caught up with him. ‘My master wants to talk to you.’

‘Who is your master? That knight?’

‘No, he’s the Bailiff from Lydford,’ Hugh said.

Elias scowled. He had heard of Lydford – who hadn’t? The Stannary court there reckoned itself competent not only to try a man’s guilt and deliver him from gaol, often they would do so before the King’s Justices had time to arrive. Their power was absolute, and they had little regard for serfs. Many miners had once themselves been serfs, but had escaped to the moors, where they lived the easy life of freemen, owing service to no one.

The Stannaries were fiercely protective of their people. Elias knew he must be careful responding to the Bailiff’s questions. He waited, chewing his lip. It wasn’t his fault he was the only man who admitted to finding the body of the girl. Nothing to do with him, whoever had killed her. Nothing at all. But he’d be the man who was fined first and hardest, just because he’d stumbled over her corpse.

‘You’re Elias? I am Bailiff Puttock of Lydford.’

Simon wasn’t the sort of man to make Elias feel at his ease. He loomed over the peasant, while Hugh wandered idly around behind Elias, making him wonder whether he was about to be arrested. ‘Yes, sir, but I’ve done nothing, I just found the bodies, that’s all. I can’t help that.’

The knight was at the Bailiff’s side now, two evil-looking watchmen behind him. One glowered at him as though suspecting Elias of raping his wife. The other looked bored stiff. The two were so incongruous together that Elias found himself staring at them. Baldwin’s voice made him jump. He had all but forgotten the Keeper.

‘No, Elias,’ said Baldwin gently, ‘you are not held to be at fault. Nor shall you be if you tell us the truth. Now: the body you found up on the moors, the body of this miner – are you sure he was dead?’

Elias ducked his head, confused by the question. ‘His neck was broken, and his hand had been hacked off, like someone had gone berserk… Have you seen a man survive something like that?’

‘I think we may safely conclude that he was dead,’ Baldwin grunted. ‘Did you recognise him? Piers tells us it was probably a man called Wylkyn. Is that so?’

‘Yes. I’d seen him often enough. Used to be a servant at the castle – back in the days of Sir Richard, that was.’

‘Is that why you were asked to find him?’ Baldwin asked suddenly, cutting into his speech.

‘Asked to…?’

‘Don’t pretend to be stupid. Just tell me quickly: who told you where to find that body?’

Elias stared dumbly at the ground. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘Oh, I reckon you do,’ Simon said. ‘Come on – how much were you paid?’

‘Nothing.’

Baldwin leaned down. ‘Elias, we can ask you here, and you can answer, or we can have you taken to Sir Ralph’s cell and leave you there until you choose to respond. Of course, if you refuse, we can have you taken to Exeter to answer to the Justices there in the county court. It is up to you.’

‘Which will it be?’ Simon rasped.

Elias was loath to answer. He didn’t know what to do, where to look, so he kept his head down, staring at their feet while he tried to think of an answer that would be safe, that would allow him some room for escape. It was a huge relief when he recognised the voice of Piers the Reeve.

‘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 someone 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.

‘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.’