‘Yes, I heard a little about it. However, I was more interested in the matter I was shown this morning. There was a little inn over at Chelchede — the Swan. Did you know it? A nice little place, it was. It was taken by some men last night and fired.’
‘Yes, I heard about it. A thief there had stolen a horse of mine. My men found it as they tried to put out the fires. I hope you will have held an inquest on the dead and issued the usual fines. But more serious is an attempted assassination against the King’s own adviser. What are you to do about that?’
‘About the attempt on your life? What should I do?’
‘You are the Coroner! Do your job!’
‘My “job”, as you term it, is to record all cases of sudden death, to note the methods by which death occurred, and to hold those records until a man can be put on the county before the jury. I am no investigating angel.’
‘Then who is?’
‘If you want a man to seek out a killer, you should ask the good Keeper of the King’s Peace to do so. He has a good deal of investigative experience, and I am sure you know him well enough to engage his aid.’
‘What are you talking about!’ Despenser spat. ‘I hardly know the man!’
Sir John smiled cynically. ‘Of course not. You are mere acquaintances. No matter — I need to speak to you about the death at the inn. Your men were seen there.’
‘I told you. A known horse-thief had taken one of my horses. My men went to retrieve it.’
‘I have been told that they were seen tormenting the innkeeper and then firing the place.’
‘You’ll find no witnesses to give any evidence to that. They were mistaken, clearly. No man of mine would do that. Now, if you don’t mind, I have business to attend to.’
‘I see.’
‘However, Coroner, if you want to be useful to the King, you should seek to find out who could have sent that crossbowman. He might have been intending to harm the King, you realise?’
Sir John bowed, keeping his eyes on the man all the while, and as Sir Hugh stalked away, he wondered aloud: ‘So, was he lying again, or was he telling the truth this time, and you are not really a companion of his, Sir Baldwin?’
William Pilk was satisfied with the efforts of the last day or two. He had successfully carried out my Lord Despenser’s command about razing the inn to the ground, and now he was assured of an improved position at the next opportunity. What with money and promotion, he felt much was all right with the world.
Ellis was at the alehouse by the gatehouse as William walked past, and he shouted to William, ‘Hey! Where’s Sir Hugh?’
‘You talking to me?’ William returned disdainfully.
Ellis was unused to being challenged. ‘Yes, you pilcock. Where is he?’
‘He has been having talks with the King. I think he’s still there now.’
‘Has he asked for me?’
‘No. He has enough men about him already.’
Ellis peered at him disbelievingly. This timid little arse was being cheeky. ‘Hey, are you pissed or what?’ he asked.
William looked at the alehouse and then down meaningfully at the pot in Ellis’s hand. ‘No. Are you?’
‘Why — you little shit!’
Ellis hurled his pot at William, and as the latter lifted a hand to shield himself, Ellis was up on his feet and hurtling straight at him, fists already bunched.
William had no time to wipe the ale from his eyes before the first punch hit him. It knocked him backwards, and he fell over a loose cobble. Looking up, Ellis was nearly on him, and Pilk rolled quickly away at the last moment. Ellis blundered by, trying to change direction, but too late. As he went, William Pilk reached out and caught his ankle. He gave a twist and Ellis uttered a shriek.
William rose to his feet, wiping his face. Ellis too, more cautious this time, going gently on his right leg where the pain was shooting up from a badly twisted ankle.
At William’s side was a stall where a fishmonger had a display of fish from the sea and the Thames. He picked up a whole eel, and as Ellis came on again, he flicked it like a whip. The head struck Ellis in the eye, and he had to turn his face away even as William vaulted towards him and wrapped the thing about Ellis’s throat, pulling as hard as he could.
Foolish! It was slippery in his fist. Ellis jerked and strained, and reached over his head to grab at William’s nose. William felt as though it was going to be wrenched from his face, and let go the fish to save it. Immediately an elbow slammed back towards him. It just missed his belly, but his flank felt like a donkey had kicked him.
It put Ellis off-balance, though. William gathered both fists together and swung them at his opponent’s face. They pounded into his temple by the already swelling eye, and Ellis fell back, shocked. William went in closer, and clubbed his nose. There was a crunch of gristle, and he was enjoying the sight of all that blood spraying around when he felt a sudden explosion in his abdomen.
He curled up, bent double, eyes wide as his lungs screamed for air, air he couldn’t possibly take in. While he gasped, Ellis stood, shaking blood from his face. His fist bounced wildly from the back of William’s skull. It was a glancing blow, but enough to topple him to the ground. And then Ellis began to kick. He had two good boots into the kidneys and then clipped William’s head once, before a slamming blow struck his own head and he paused. While he reflected, the cudgel crashed into his head again, and he fell to his knees.
‘I think you ought to stay there a moment and reflect,’ Coroner John said happily. He swung the cudgel on the little thong that encircled his wrist, but seeing that there was little likelihood of the squirming, choking and weeping William returning to the fray any more than the dazed Ellis, he took the thong from his wrist and tossed it gently back towards the innkeeper.
‘Don’t think they’ll be any more bother,’ he said. ‘You two, I suggest you buy each other an ale and make up your differences before my Lord Despenser sees you. He won’t be too happy to see his two best boys beating each other up like this, will he?’
He saw that Ellis was staring at him now with a fury that was only matched by William Pilk’s as he gazed at Ellis, but the Coroner was unconcerned. Their master was a threat to him, certainly, but these two were hardly the kind to give him sleepless nights. They would only attack him were their master to consider him a threat, and sadly the Coroner knew he was nothing of the sort. Who would dare to be a threat to Sir Hugh le Despenser?
Sir Baldwin and his friend were a curious pair. It was plain enough that neither of them trusted him. It was a little hurtful, but understandable in this madhouse of intrigue. Even after Sir Hugh’s words, John didn’t trust Simon and Baldwin yet, either.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Coroner John was soon in the little chamber where before, he had studied the body of the first assassin with Sir Baldwin. Today, standing there alone, he winced at the sight of the arrow through the second man’s eye. To facilitate moving the corpse, someone had snapped the arrow off about six inches from his ruined eyeball, and the red stick protruded like an obscene stem.
‘Who are you?’ he muttered. It was wrong for him to be here. All was wrong, though. There should have been an inquest on the man in the yard when he was found there, with witnesses enrolled on the Coroner’s records. If truth be told, the yard should have been closed, and all those in there at the time should have been held. But who was going to force the King to adhere to every aspect of his own laws? No one, was the short answer to that question.
He started undressing the body, seeing what he could learn. The clothing was simple enough. It was a thick woollen material, closely stitched. There was nothing to learn from that. When he pulled the man’s belt off, though, he was impressed by the quality of the dagger. It was expensive workmanship.