‘Hoppon, these men are here to try to learn all they can about my husband’s death,’ Agnes said as he approached.
Hoppon studied the men seriously for a moment, and then nodded and gave them a bow, while gripping his staff with both hands clasped about it at chest height. ‘My lords, I’m honoured. God give you all success in your searches.’
‘We are interested in all to do with the death of the travellers, as well as this woman’s husband’s murder,’ Sir Richard boomed. ‘Can ye tell us aught about them?’
‘The coroner has been already — he heard all the evidence,’ Hoppon said, glancing at Agnes as he spoke.
‘We know. We’ve seen Sir Peregrine,’ Sir Richard said. ‘But he doesn’t live here, and we want to find out what we can from someone who knows the area.’
‘I’ll tell what I can, but I doubt me it’ll be of much use to you,’ Hoppon said. ‘The travellers were over there. I saw their smoke in the morning, but I didn’t think anything of it. Why should I? There are woodsmen all over the place, what with the winter coming on. People are there all the time to gather their faggots for the fire, and the charcoal burners make enough smoke to hide a city.’
‘When did you realise that there had been an ambush and slaughter?’ Simon asked.
‘Not until later that day. I had to wander up there anyway,’ Hoppon said reluctantly.
‘Why?’ Simon asked.
‘Fetch some wood.’
Simon’s gaze went from Hoppon’s face to the wood store by the house. That was plainly a lie. The man had no need of any wood.
Hoppon’s face coloured slightly. ‘When I got there, it was obvious that there’d been an attack. Bodies lay everywhere.’
‘Was there any sign of money? Jewels? Anything to indicate that they’d had valuables to transport?’ Simon said. ‘Was there any sign that there were churchmen among them?’
‘Oh, I didn’t want to stay and study them all. One or two looked soft enough to be priests, and one was tonsured, I remember. The poor man with his eyes plucked out. Him and one or two others hadn’t done much work in their lives, not with their hands, that was for sure,’ Hoppon said. ‘But the others were all younger, stronger lads. I’d say that most were fighters of one sort or another. There were about ten of them. And there were some folk who looked different again. A woman, some children … They even killed a bitch and her pup.’
Simon offered a short but heartfelt thank-you to God for keeping Baldwin away from this. He was invariably on the side of hounds and other beasts.
‘The man who could have been a priest — did he have any distinguishing features that the coroner noted?’
‘Only one — he had a scar on his right thigh. Looked like a slash from a knife.’
‘I think it was a kick from a donkey,’ Simon said. ‘That shows that he was the priest Pietro from Tavistock, then, with his force of men-at-arms. With so many fighters about him who looked strong, it’d be no surprise if others decided to join them for safety. There is more security when in a band than alone. That will be why so many were there.’
‘True enough.’
‘The killers would have to have made noise when they rode off,’ Simon said. ‘Did you hear nothing?’
Hoppon took a breath, glanced at Agnes, and hesitated for a long moment before finally giving a short nod of his head. ‘I didn’t want to admit it at first, because I didn’t want to put myself in danger’s way, but yes. There were some carts and horses rode past here that night. I heard them because Tab here barked at them. He’s a good guard.’
‘Where would they have gone?’ Sir Richard asked, taking a couple of steps past Hoppon’s house to stare down the path.
‘That leads to a ford. I think they went along the back of my house on another path, and from there to the ford. Once there was a manor behind us, down there,’ he added, pointing. ‘The place burned down, though, and now there’s little left behind. But the path to it remains. And from there the old trail takes a man down to the ford.’
‘Whose manor was it?’ Simon asked.
‘Sir Edmund’s. But he died years ago. He was the last of his family. I served him until his death.’
‘How did he die?’ Sir Richard asked.
‘An accident. He fell from his horse into the river and drowned.’
Sir Richard and Simon nodded. It was one of the most common accidental deaths for anyone who lived near a river.
‘So,’ Simon said, ‘how much of all this did you tell Bill Lark?’
‘All. He knew it seemingly before he asked me,’ Hoppon said with a slow grin. ‘Agnes knows what her old man was like. He’d only ever ask something when he’d already worked out the answer, usually. That day, he came down here, and he sat there, on that log, and told me he’d worked out that the men must have come up here. He told me he’d asked all over the place, from Oakhampton to up past Jacobstowe, and east and west too, and there was no sign of carts or horses on any of the paths he’d looked at. Well, I realised when he asked me that he knew where they’d gone already. If all the other paths were blocked to them, he said, they must have come near here.’
‘You weren’t going to tell him, then?’ Sir Richard growled.
‘Sir, no, sir. It’s dangerous to get in the way of men like them.’
‘Like who?’
‘Like men who can form a large enough group to attack a party of nineteen and slaughter the lot,’ Hoppon said reasonably. ‘Perhaps I’d feel safer if I lived in a smart city like Exeter, but I live here, between the parish and the woods. There’s no one within calling, no one who’d notice if I was missing. What would you have me do? Report a rich lord and hope he’d be arrested before he could hurt me? Perhaps he wouldn’t wait until the court opened before he killed me.’
‘The courts are here to protect you as well, man,’ Sir Richard said.
Hoppon looked up at him. ‘You think so? When the stories all say that the sheriff will take money to release the guilty, just because they can afford it? When it’s said that he will arrest the innocent on purpose, just so he can take a bribe to let them go? Oh, the courts may seem fair and reasonable to you, Sir Richard, but to an ordinary man like me, it looks much safer to keep away.’
‘We wouldn’t let anyone hurt you, fellow,’ Sir Richard said with an angry shake of his head.
‘So you’ll protect me?’ And now there was a sarcastic tone in Hoppon’s voice. ‘You would see to it that I didn’t end up like her husband, eh? You’d make sure I wasn’t buried six feet under like Bill Lark, would you?’
Chapter Nineteen
Exeter
Baldwin hurried from the castle and the suave sheriff with his unsubtle threats. He was shivering with rage, and he had to force himself to stop and calm his breathing before he reached the high street.
There was no time to be angry with that fool, he said to himself. Not now. Much more important was doing everything he could to find Edith. ‘Edgar, if we are to cover all the roads between here and Furshill, it will take us days,’ he said bitterly. ‘But we must try to do so, and check all those places where she might have been thrown. God damn that smug fool!’
‘We have no proof that she did in truth come this way,’ Edgar said gently. ‘Sir, she may have travelled to her father’s and there been attacked or come to some mishap.’
‘Yes,’ Baldwin said. ‘But-’