The Tournament of Blood

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Odo dropped from his mount and patted the mare’s neck as he watched Baldwin being helped from the field.

‘A good fight, by God!’ Coroner Roger said at his side.

‘Yes! I’m glad I didn’t have to ride against Sir John. He was a terrifying opponent.’

‘Yes. And now he and his son are dead,’ Coroner Roger said heavily. ‘Come, we should speak to the Bailiff.’

They met Simon as he was picking up a large piece of wood.

‘What is it?’ Coroner Roger asked.

‘Baldwin told me to look at this. I can’t see why.’

Odo glanced over a timber splinter. ‘This is odd,’ he said. ‘Look, the wood here was cut.’

Simon took it from him and examined it. ‘Why, yes. Someone has drawn a narrow saw through it – why should they do that?’

‘To guarantee the winner,’ Odo said grimly. ‘I’ve seen it done in France. A slight saw cut through the lance weakens it so that it shatters as it hits a man without knocking him down. Sometimes men will gamble heavily on a man’s victory in the lists, and they’ll pay to ensure that the right man wins.’

‘But how could they guarantee that the right man would get the damaged lance?’

‘By having an accomplice waiting at the lance-rack and giving the damaged lance to the man they wished to lose,’ Odo said.

‘It’s always a squire who passes the lances,’ said Coroner Roger.

Simon finished his thought for him. ‘And William used to help in the lists! So there is a connection between him and the other three.’

‘Who would have wanted them to die, though?’ Coroner Roger mused.

Simon felt as though he had a new lease of life. ‘First let’s go back to where the body was found,’ he said, setting off towards the camp.

‘We spoke to all the men about there, but no one saw or heard anything last night,’ Roger said.

Odo recalled his last thought before he was called back to witness Baldwin’s fight. ‘We spoke to the knights and squires, but there was one group we didn’t question: the grooms. If someone was to go that way and pet his horse, no one would think anything of it, would they? And from there it would be a short walk to the river to murder Sir William.’

Simon caught his breath. ‘Of course!’ It would be the perfect excuse, he thought. Nobody would question a man-at-arms who went to ensure that his horse was settled for the night. Unconsciously, his pace increased as he neared the horse-lines.

Odo hurried too. This development had confused him. It made no sense for Sir William to have been murdered.

The great destriers and several riding-horses of quality were hobbled or tethered near the water up by the castle’s bailey. Odo looked about him. Simon did not hesitate but walked straight to a skinny youth clad in a faded and scratched leather jerkin. Odo found himself staring at one of the lad’s eyes because he had a terrible cast in the other. Afterwards he could remember nothing else about him.

‘Were you here last night?’ Simon asked.

‘Yes, sir. I didn’t go to my bed until very late.’

‘Were you alone?’

‘Some of the time, when my mates were eating. We all sleep here, so I was never really alone.’

‘Did you hear anyone near the river?’

‘Not really,’ the youth said, but there was a dryness to his tone that caught Simon’s attention. He was holding something back: he hadn’t been asked the right question and wouldn’t willingly volunteer anything to someone in authority.

Simon had dealt with types like him before. ‘Did you, or did you not, see or hear anyone there?’ he demanded.

‘There were some people walking up there.’

‘Who?’

‘A girl and a man.’

‘Who was the girl?’

The lad shrugged. ‘How should I know?’

Simon suddenly sprang forward. He reached out and grabbed his jerkin.

Odo moved forward. ‘Bailiff, I think… ’

‘Silence, Herald! Baldwin nearly died saving my skin just now, and I don’t have the patience to listen to this fool playing games. Did you hear that, groom? Don’t try to be clever with me because I don’t understand, and when I don’t understand I get irritable. Like this,’ he said, tightening his grip. ‘All right? If you don’t begin to help I’ll choke the life from you. Is that clear enough?’

The youth could hardly speak, but simply nodded.

‘Good. Because I want to know all you know about the people moving about last night, near where Sir William’s body was found today,’ Simon said, releasing his grip a little.

The lad spoke hurriedly. ‘The girl was Lady Helen. She is wife to Sir Walter Basset. There was a man with her. Andrew – Sir Edmund’s squire.’

‘What? Together?’

‘Well… ’

‘Tell us what you saw, you damned whore’s kitling.’

‘That’s all. I saw the two of them walking out to the river together. I thought nothing of it.’

‘This was after dark?’

‘Yes. Will you take your hands away now?’

‘Not yet. What of Sir William? When did you see him?’

‘I didn’t say I did. Ouch!’

‘No, you didn’t. I did. Did you see him before or after the others?’

‘He walked up here a little before them – if it was him. I saw him at the other side of the river, then I saw the girl with Andrew.’

‘What then?’

‘Yes, what then?’

And Simon turned and found himself staring into the congested face of Sir Walter Basset.

‘It was awful, Roger. Probably the most embarrassing situation I’ve ever talked myself into,’ Simon admitted the next morning.

They were sitting in the hall. It was the first opportunity they had found to discuss the murders and Coroner Roger shared the same rickety bench as Simon. When either man moved, both had to grab at the wood. ‘Sir Walter forced the groom to admit that Andrew had come away from there shortly afterwards, and then after a long pause, Lady Helen left the place, closely followed by Sir Edmund.’

‘It was not your fault,’ Roger said. He eyed his jug of wine sourly. ‘So what have we learned?’

‘Little enough. We know that many people over the years could have wanted to see Hal and Wymond dead. It’s trying to see who could have wanted them dead now that’s the problem.’

Margaret sat at the other side of the room, feeding her baby. ‘What of the girl?’ She reminded them.

‘Which girl?’ Coroner Roger asked.

‘The wife of that squire who was killed in the lists.’

‘Alice? What of her?’

‘It’s just that I don’t understand her. She was desperately keen to escape from her guardian, to marry Geoffrey.’

‘Yes. She would have done anything to avoid marrying Sir William,’ Roger said. ‘You don’t mean… ?’

Simon stared at his cup. ‘That she killed William to prevent him from marrying her? Why should she have killed the others?’

‘Maybe someone else killed the others,’ put in Sir Baldwin.

‘Baldwin, are you well enough to be up?’ Margaret demanded, surveying him anxiously. Her gratitude to this man would never end, she knew.

‘Do not fuss. I shall be perfectly well, if a little sore,’ Baldwin smiled. Then he said thoughtfully: ‘Look at the wounds on Hal and Wymond – and, from what you’ve said, Benjamin too. All were beaten severely with some sort of blunt instrument. And now we have William stabbed. It is a different approach. Then again, a club is definitely a man’s weapon, whereas a small knife could be a woman’s – perhaps striking in defence rather than in any desire to kill.’

‘You seriously expect us to think that a young woman like Lady Alice could commit murder upon a fellow like William?’ Coroner Roger scoffed. ‘His throat was cut.’

Baldwin reached over to pour himself a cup of wine. He said nothing for a moment or two. Then, ‘Margaret, what do you think?’

‘If I was her, and my lover had been slaughtered in the field, I would be near to insane, knowing that the man who had killed him was now determined to claim me for his wife and claim my family’s lands for his own. Yes, I could easily kill someone who did that.’

Simon spoke quietly. ‘And how much more hatred would she feel, knowing that her guardian killed her own father in the tilt-yard?’

‘Yes,’ Baldwin said. ‘I have the unpleasant conviction that she would be capable of it. And, so far as we know, she may have had the opportunity to do it, too.’

‘What of the others, though – the men beaten to death?’ Coroner Roger wanted to know. ‘I am more concerned about three rather than resolving one.’

‘A fair comment,’ Baldwin said, rising. Instantly he winced and had to reach out to the wall to steady himself. He waved off offers of support. ‘I am fine. Just very sore. Come, shall we seek the girl?’

Margaret was left on her own as the three walked slowly, in deference to Baldwin’s wounds, out to the castle’s court. All knew that the ward of Sir John should be at the chapel with the bodies of her guardian and his son, but when they entered, bowing and kneeling, crossing themselves, and making their way to the altar, they saw that the two hearses covering Sir William and his father were attended only by a poor man. Lady Alice had not been there, he whispered.

Baldwin led the way to the encampment. At Sir John’s tent they found a man packing clothing. ‘Where is your lady?’ Baldwin asked.

‘Alice? She’s not ours. She’s gone to help Geoffrey’s men.’

‘She won’t come back here, she says,’ a maid somewhat breathlessly assured them.

‘You are?’ Coroner Roger enquired.

‘Helewisia. I was her maid, but now my master’s dead – well… I don’t know who is my master now. I’m going back with Sir John’s body.’

‘Why don’t you stay with your lady?’ Baldwin asked. ‘Surely she is the one to whom you owe your loyalty?’

Helewisia smiled knowingly. ‘I don’t think she’d want me with her. I was only ever the servant of her guardian. Sir John never trusted her too much. That was why he had me installed with her. Not that it did him much good,’ she added sadly. ‘She fooled us all.’

‘In what way?’ Baldwin said.

‘She got herself married to Geoffrey, for a start.’

‘Did you ever hear her talk about Hal and Wymond?’

‘Occasionally. She hated them.’

Baldwin shot Simon a look. ‘Why?’

‘Because she blamed them for the death of her mother and baby brother. They were in a stand which collapsed while they watched a fight – and the fight was between Sir John and her father, Sir Godwin. She blamed them and cursed them. Regularly.’

‘Where is she now?’ Coroner Roger demanded.

‘Up at Geoffrey’s tent, if she hasn’t already left.’

‘That foolish gossip couldn’t find her own arse with both hands,’ Coroner Roger said coarsely as he hurried along the tents. ‘It’s obvious this wench has nursed a hatred of these men for years – and took her chance for revenge when the whole lot were together.’

Baldwin said nothing. His mind was moving along a different course. ‘What of Benjamin?’

‘What of him? She was probably in Exeter with Sir John and killed him there.’

‘Did his wounds look like the sort to be inflicted by a woman?’

‘He was struck a number of times by a cudgel or something.’

‘Swung with force?’

‘Yes.’

Baldwin nodded. They were at the tent now, a plain and simple campaigning pavilion. Outside was a pair of carts, on to which boxes and barrels were being loaded. Soon Lady Alice appeared in the doorway.

‘Gentlemen – you wish to speak to me?’

‘Lady Alice, I suspect you to be the murderer of Benjamin Dudenay, Hal Sachevyll, Wymond Carpenter and Sir William of Crukerne,’ Coroner Roger rasped. ‘What have you to say to that?’

She had paled and now she grasped at a tent-pole as she stared. ‘Me? But why should I do such a thing?’

‘To avenge your father, Sir Godwin,’ Sir Roger said. ‘We know he died at the hand of Sir John… ’

‘Yes. That’s partly why I wouldn’t wed his son.’

‘And the stand in which your mother died was built by Hal and Wymond. You wanted revenge on them.’

‘No! I had nothing to do with them.’

‘And their banker, Benjamin Dudenay, took profit from their building work, so you killed him too.’

‘No! This is all quite mad!’

‘And finally, you stabbed Sir William. Probably because he was trying to force his favours upon you and you protected yourself?’ Coroner Roger asked hopefully. He would be happy to allow her an argument of self-defence in that case.

‘This is rubbish! Of course I didn’t! I wouldn’t know how to kill a man!’

Baldwin watched as Coroner Roger hectored her. Her hand was at her throat as if to fend off an attack, but her eyes were wide and alarmed. Every so often her gaze wandered over the men before her, as if seeking a protector. Suddenly Baldwin was struck with her expression. It was that of a hunted beast. He realised that in a few short days she had lost not only her husband, whom she had thought would be her protector, but also her legal guardian, no matter how much she distrusted him. She had no family, no one to whom she could turn.

‘Lady,’ he said. ‘Our apologies.’

‘What do you mean?’ the Coroner asked.

‘Look at her! To bludgeon a man to death – that is not the act of a well-bred lady such as Lady Alice here,’ Baldwin said.

‘What of a stabbing? She detested Sir William, she saw him out near the river, and she thrust her dagger in under his ribs.’

‘What would be the purpose?’ Baldwin said. ‘She knew that other men here had heard her husband tell them that he was married to her. Sir William could not demand her hand if she was to refuse him. Even after Geoffrey’s death, she could have pleaded her widowhood and escaped him that way.

‘Then who committed these murders?’

‘There was one other person who lost his father in Exeter,’ Baldwin said slowly. ‘He watched his father die in front of him, at the hand of Sir John, and then he later suffered from Hal and Wymond’s work. He fell through the wall of a stand during a fight. Then while he fought for his life, a man tried to help him, but that man was driven off by Sir John again. This person was left badly disfigured and penniless. He hated and loathed the man who had done so much harm to himself and to his family.’

Coroner Roger gazed at him intently but said nothing. Simon was nodding his head thoughtfully.

Alice broke the silence. ‘Do you mean Sir Richard Prouse?’

‘Yes. Your half-brother, the knight who was so cruelly scarred after his battle with Sir Walter.’

‘Where did you hear he was Alice’s half-brother?’ Coroner Roger asked.

‘Simon told us that Sir Richard mentioned seeing his father die in the tilt. Then Alice said the same, but told us that her mother and brother also died there. Not that many knights die in tournaments – especially those with the name of Godwin.’

‘And you think Richard could have killed all these fellows?’ Coroner Roger said wonderingly.

‘He has a bad leg,’ Baldwin said, ‘but that wouldn’t stop him swinging a heavy hammer.’

‘It would prevent him carrying a body as heavy as Wymond’s back from the far hill,’ Simon said sensibly. ‘I don’t see him being able to kill and bring the bodies back.’ There was something else wrong, but he wasn’t sure what. ‘I don’t believe he is guilty.’

‘Perhaps you are right,’ Baldwin said. ‘But let us go and speak to him again.’

‘What of me?’ Alice said.

Roger glanced at her. ‘You are free, my Lady. I am sorry that I accused you in error, but you should not leave Oakhampton until these matters are resolved. I may need to speak to you again!’

‘Thank you,’ she said, but her face still looked haunted as the men left her.