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‘Yes, well. He was a good friend as well as a loyal servant,’ Simon said after a moment. He half-heartedly speared a kidney and some liver.

Jeanne tried to keep him company with two thick rashers of bacon, and watched with horror mingled with respect as her husband filled his own trencher. It was a strange sight, to see Simon eating little, while her husband heaped his plate. Jeanne excused herself from eating too much by trying to feed the little girl in her lap.

‘Did he mention that he’d made any enemies here?’ Baldwin asked after some moments of chewing.

‘He didn’t say so. If he’d given such offence that a man decided to kill him and slaughter his wife and child too, I’m sure he would have told me. It’s not the sort of thing I’d expect, though. And if he had offended someone so deeply, I’m sure he would have realised the danger. He would have made sure he was safe, or at least he’d have made sure that his wife was. Hugh was no fool when it came to fighting.’

‘I remember,’ Jeanne said. She had seen him in fights. In Tavistock he’d knocked a man down before she had even realised the fellow was a threat.

‘He was astute enough,’ Baldwin agreed. ‘But the cleverest man can fail to see into another man’s heart, can’t he?’

‘If that’s the case, we’ll likely never know what happened, then,’ Simon snapped. ‘I can only tell you what he said to me, and that was that this was a pleasant, unspoiled place with no fighting. He didn’t look as though he thought he was in any danger at all, any of the times I’ve seen him. And now he’s dead.’

‘The innkeeper doesn’t seem to think he was disliked at all. He behaved like an old moorman, and kept himself to himself,’ Baldwin mused, unaffected by his friend’s temper. ‘Perhaps someone else could tell us more? The local priest should be a good man to ask.’

‘Yes, let’s go there. Are you ready?’ Simon asked. His own plate was all but untouched as he pushed the stool from the table.

‘No, Simon. And I would like to see you eat that before we go anywhere,’ Baldwin said mildly, and when he saw the expression on his friend’s face he continued, ‘if we find Hugh’s killer, Simon, I want you fit and ready to help catch him, or kill him. Hugh wouldn’t be glad to know he’d been the cause of Meg’s being widowed just because you came here to avenge him and weren’t prepared.’

Simon looked furious and leaned forward a moment as though to utter a fierce denial, but then he looked down at his hands and shook his head slightly. ‘Hugh was a friend for many years. I will find the man who killed him, and I will see him hang, but you’re right. I won’t kill myself.’ He poured another cup of ale and sipped, then upended it. ‘To Hugh!’ he declared.

Baldwin and Jeanne both drank to Hugh as well, and as they held their cups aloft Baldwin met Simon’s gaze and gave a sympathetic grin. And as they stared at each other over the table top, there came a grumbling roar from behind Baldwin, and he felt the flesh on his back creep as the hated voice rasped out: ‘Ah, good. Food! Thought it must be time by now. Mind you eat up, lady, we don’t want you starving now you’re eating for two, eh? Give me that platter. Ah, the kidneys are rare. That’s how I like them, so they still taste strong. What? What? What are you staring at? Give me a cup of that ale. It’s not as good as our manor’s, I expect, but I am a bit thirsty.’

And Emma sat on the bench beside Baldwin, who watched in horror as the juices dribbled down her chin from her open mouth.

Father Matthew grunted to himself as he lifted himself from squatting before the altar, and turned to leave the church just as he heard the footsteps outside.

Two men and a woman walked in, all taking water and crossing themselves. Matthew didn’t recognise any of them, but it was clear enough from their clothing and behaviour that they were not peasants. He immediately ranked them as merchants or traders on their way through the vill, before he saw the marks of chivalry on the older of the two men. This fellow with the trim beard that followed the line of his jaw was obviously a knight. His thick neck spoke of the years of training with a steel helmet on his head; the right shoulder was clearly more powerful than the left, as you’d expect in a swordsman. Not only that, either. It was also there in his eyes, which were stern and authoritative. He was not a man who would be easy to lie to: those eyes looked very intelligent.

‘Father?’

‘Yes?’

It was the second man who spoke, the one with the red, sad eyes, who looked as though he had recently been bereaved.

‘We are here because of the murder of the man Hugh with his wife and child. He was my servant. I want to learn what I may of this affair.’

‘My son,’ Matthew sighed. He looked over his shoulder at the altar and closed his eyes. ‘Come, sit yourselves here. Be at ease.’

There were no seats in the nave, but he led them to a low projection in the inner wall at the rear of the church, where they could perch a little more comfortably. Matthew himself waved away the knight’s offer of a space. ‘No, good knight, I’ve been kneeling for some while in prayer. It may be good for a young man to pray for many hours, but I have calluses on calluses at knee and ankle now. I think I would do myself more good by standing for a little while.’

They introduced themselves, and Matthew looked from one to another, his gaze resting shrewdly on Baldwin after a few moments. ‘So, a bailiff who has lost his servant, and a keeper who wishes to help his friend? You must have valued this servant very highly, Bailiff.’

‘I did. Can you tell us anything about his death? Did he have any enemies?’

‘I have to confess, I do not know of any,’ Matthew said. ‘There are some petty disputes in the vill, but nothing that would bear upon your man. No, if he died as a result of a dispute, I should think that it was by accident. Two men fought, and he stood in their path.’

‘Perhaps Fishleigh and Monkleigh?’ Baldwin interjected.

‘You have heard much,’ Matthew said more flatly. He did not wish to discuss the politics between those two manors with strangers.

‘We have heard a little. We have much more to learn,’ Baldwin said. ‘And you haven’t answered.’

‘It is possible, but I know nothing about such matters. They are the realm of powerful people, not me.’

‘Who owns the living here?’ Simon asked. ‘Is this the advowson of one or other manor?’

Matthew bridled. ‘You mean to suggest that I would conceal a murder just to keep my seat here? Sir, you malign me!’

‘He did not mean to, Father,’ Jeanne said. ‘However, you can see how distraught we are. Is there no help you can give us?’

‘If you wish to learn more about the two manors, perhaps you should ask old Isaac down at Monkleigh chapel. He knows much more about the history than I do. I’ve not been here all that long, in truth.’

‘What of his body? Is he buried?’ Simon asked.

‘I am sorry … no. We found the remains of his wife and the little boy, too. He was lying in the corner of the room, so wasn’t quite so badly burned, but the man … his body must have been entirely consumed by the fire.’

Baldwin cocked his head. ‘Entirely? In a small house fire?’

‘It was hardly a “small” fire, Sir Knight. It destroyed the place. It’s possible that there are more bones inside, but I think it unlikely that they’ll be found.’

‘What of the others?’ Simon asked.

‘As soon as the coroner had completed his inquest, they were buried in my cemetery. Would you like me to show them to you?’

Simon and Baldwin exchanged a glance. Simon said, ‘Yes, please, Father. I would like to say goodbye to them. They came here seeking peace, and they deserve a kindly word if nothing else.’

Chapter Fifteen

Emma sat back and eyed the wooden trenchers as the others walked out, then hurriedly took the choicest leftover scraps and set them on her own, soaking up the juices with a hunk of bread.