'Your accomplice has turned appealer and we know the broad outlines of your crimes, so there's no point in these continual pleas of innocence,' he said brusquely. 'We now want the details to record and place before the King's justices.'
But cajole and threaten as much as they would, all they got from the armourer was a litany of oaths, abuse and denials, mostly to the effect that Alexander Crues was a warped mental defective who, for personal reasons, was producing a vindictive tissue of lies against him.
After five minutes of this, everyone was becoming restive, especially as Henry was having difficulty in finding a break in Robert's tirade to get in his own questions.
'That's enough!' yelled de Wolfe eventually. Not the most patient of men, especially on a day like this when his-spirits were low, he appealed to de Furnellis. 'Sheriff, this man seems immune to reasonable questioning. Has the time not come for more persuasive methods to arrive at the truth?'
Henry nodded, having seen the slight wink that John gave him as he spoke.
'I agree, Coroner, Do you think the peine forte et dure would be appropriate?' He was referring to a form of persuasive torture in which heavy weights were progressively piled on the victim's chest until he could no longer breathe.
'Either that, or perhaps the Ordeal might also be appropriate, as it is intended to determine guilt or innocence, We now have two priests here, though only one is necessary to validate the process.' He pointed at both Brother Rufus and Thomas de Peyne, which greatly pleased the little clerk, in spite of the doleful circumstances.
Robert Longus fell very quiet at this exchange, looking from coroner to sheriff and back again, to gauge how serious they were,
'You cannot torture me, I'm a freeman and a craftsman!' he cried. 'It's illegal, you cannot do this!'
'Who's to say that we can't?' retorted the sheriff calmly. 'We are the law in this county and can prosecute it in any way we think fit!'
He turned to the gaoler, who was standing by expectantly, his piggy eyes gleaming in the poor light from a few guttering torches on the walls.
'Stigand, have you made the preparations I ordered?'
The lard-faced Saxon, almost bald and wearing a filthy apron stained with blood, grinned to show his few blackened teeth. '
'The water is on the boil, sir. And I have irons heating in the brazier, in case you prefer them!'
'Right, bring him over to the wall,' commanded de Furnellis,
Longus began screaming as he was dragged across the floor towards a large iron vat that was supported on stones over a wood fire in a shallow pit. It was full almost to the brim with murky water that was bubbling under the scum on top. Near by was a latticed iron brazier filled with glowing charcoal, into which were stuck several branding irons.
'Robert Longus, this is your last chance to confess,' snapped de Wolfe. 'You know the ritual of the Ordeal — you will plunge your right arm into this vat and pick out this stone.'
Stigand handed him a round stone the size of a large apple and John nonchalantly tossed it into the boiling water.
This part was an obvious bluff, as the Ordeal was not intended as a means of extracting confessions, but was an ancient test of guilt or innocence, If the scalded arm healed without peeling or suppuration, the subject was judged innocent; otherwise he was' deemed guilty 'and hanged. The Church was becoming uneasy about this unchristian ritual, which smacked of magic, but the Vatican had not yet actually banned it.
John wagged a finger at Stigand, and he drew one of the irons from the fire and spat upon the crossshaped end, the spittle hissing on the red-hot metal. 'The choice is yours, Longus. The cauldron or the brand!'
As the man was hustled nearer the fires, Thomas averted his eyes and Eustace ran back to the steps up to the doorway to watch, as if distance might lessen the awful spectacle. The rest of the onlookers, including Brother Rufus, stood impassively, waiting for a result.
A closer sight of the boiling scum and the glowing iron suddenly broke the armourer's will.
'No, stop! I'll tell you all!' he screamed.
As with Crues and the water trough two days earlier, the imminence of intolerable suffering overshadowed the more distant prospect of the gallows. Half an hour later, Thomas had it all inscribed on his roll and the two men from Sampford were back in their squalid cells to await the next visit of the Commissioners of Gaol Delivery and the certainty of a hanging.
Back in the sheriff's chamber, the same officials gathered to consider what they had learned in Stigand's parlour down below.
'It's extraordinary how all this links together,' enthused Brother Rufus, who was a jovial busybody and liked to be in on any intrigues that were going on. 'Three murders for different reasons, all by the same men.'
'Really only one man, in that that poor dolt Crues was just a blind tool of Robert Longus,' said Ralph Morin, 'Though he'll hang for it, just the same.'
'It's such a tortuous tale that I need to get this clear in my mind,' growled Henry de Furnellis. 'I gather that Hugo Peverel paid Longus to interfere with his father's saddle-girth and then kept close behind him at the Wilton melee, so that he could trample him to death when he was unhorsed?'
'That's right, then they made sure that the harness vanished soon afterwards, not knowing that Reginald de Charterai had already noticed the damage to the stitching,' confirmed John.
The sheriff shook his head in sad amazement. 'Killing his father! That's a terrible crime. I'm glad the bastard got his reward at the end of a knife,'
'Which was also wielded by Robert Longus!' snorted John.
'I'm not clear why that had to happen,' said the constable, doubtfully.
'How was it connected with the death of that silversmith, miles away?'
'Not so fast!' complained the sheriff. 'Hugo killed his father to succeed to the manor, right? But what about Odo, the eldest brother — he was already there, as the sitting heir, so to speak?'
'Hugo must have worked all that out beforehand, trusting that he would win any legal contest on the grounds of Odo's falling sickness. It was a gamble, but it paid off.'
'And August Scrope, the silversmith?' asked Gwyn, 'I didn't follow all that Longus said about that — he was gabbling too fast.'
Thomas, scanning his parchment version of the confession, explained what had happened.
'Scrope was staying at the New Inn, as were the Peverels. It so happened that Longus came to the inn to get some instructions from Hugo about preparing his armour for the tournament. Longus stopped for some ale in the taproom and overheard the silversmith, his tongue loosened by ale, unwisely telling some drinking companion, of his trip to Topsham the next morning with his valuable jewellery. The armourer decided to take Alexander Crues and rob the man, as a profitable sideline. It seems that they had occasionally indulged in armed robbery before this and found it easy pickings,'
'And the callous bastards also decided to kill him, to avoid being recognised,' growled Henry. 'It's fortunate that the silversmith's servant survived. They deserve to be hanged twice over.'
'So how did it come about that Hugo later gave him a false alibi when Terrus spotted Longus as one of the robbers?' asked Rufus.
John shrugged. 'Longus was very close to his master and was valuable to Hugo as his armourer, so he wouldn't want to lose him to the gallows.'
'And Longus already had a hold over him, knowing that he had deliberately run down his father,' added de Furnellis.