‘Hoppon, God give you a good day,’ the first rider said as he sat on his horse, gazing about the place with his dark eyes.
‘God speed you, sire.’
‘You remember me?’ Simon asked, taking his horse forward until he was level with Baldwin. ‘This is the Keeper of the King’s Peace, Hoppon. We want to ask you some questions.’
‘Oh?’
‘About the night the travellers were slain,’ Baldwin said.
Hoppon grunted and rose to his feet. ‘You want to know what about the night? It was dark.’
‘We think that there was a man with the travellers who was a spy and was there only to destroy all those innocents,’ Baldwin said. ‘He was with Sir Robert’s men. A one-eyed fellow called Osbert.’
‘Wouldn’t surprise me.’
‘You knew him?’
‘Few about here didn’t. He wouldn’t hurt me, mind. Always respectful to me, he was. But that didn’t mean he’d be the same with others. And he was always keen for profit.’
‘Do you know more about him and the robbery?’ Simon asked.
‘No.’
‘You see,’ Baldwin said, ‘we were trying to think whether this man Osbert could have had an ally near here. He would need someone who would be easy to call to his aid. A man who would be within a certain distance. Someone of strength, and determination.’
‘So you thought of me, naturally,’ Hoppon said. He jerked his chin to the south-west. ‘But I wouldn’t have seen a thing. The trees between here and there are too thick.’
‘In the dark, fires light the sky,’ Baldwin mused. ‘And in still air a scream will travel further than an arrow.’
‘I was asleep when it happened, then, for I saw no fires or lights, nor heard any cries for help.’
‘So you want us to believe that all those fellows passed by you, and you did nothing to see where they went?’
‘They were too quiet at first. The second lot made more noise, but they were later.’
‘How much later?’
‘Well, a goodly while. Perhaps as long as an hour of the night?* It was long enough for some twigs an inch and a half thick to burn right through.’
Simon was frowning. ‘So this first group, this was Sir Robert’s men on the way there, and then the second was his men riding away again? Or do you mean that there was another group of men?’
Suddenly Hoppon was keen to be away. ‘I don’t know. I was indoors. That’s what I told the reeve when he came asking, and it’s what I told you too. I was inside. I can’t rightly tell who was here, who passed and when. It was none of my business then, and it still isn’t now.’
‘You are wrong, Hoppon,’ Baldwin said. ‘It is your business, because it is all of ours now. We think that a few men stole the money before Sir Robert even reached the camp. Probably the man Osbert helped a monk to take it somewhere to be hidden. Perhaps they were helped by a man who was apparently crippled many years ago, but who is still enormously strong.’
‘You think I could carry a chest full of money?’ Hoppon smiled. ‘All the way from there to here? Or do you think I carried it further? Up to his house? Do you think this leg is a fiction just to test the gullible?’
Baldwin set his head to one side. ‘I think you may be able to walk farther than you say, friend. I think you may well be able to stroll to the woods over there and back, even with a chest on your back. Especially if you have a man like Osbert to help you.’
‘You think I’d help him and his sort?’ Hoppon spat.
‘You say that no one would help him,’ Simon said. ‘Why? Were Sir Robert and his men well known about here? Nobody seemed to know of his men particularly when I was asking. Was that simply because all feared him?’
‘Not Sir Robert, no. I dare say he was a moderate lord in his own way,’ Hoppon conceded. ‘But Osbert is a different animal. No one liked him.’
‘He was well known here?’ Simon asked.
Sir Richard grunted. ‘The man is keen to place the blame on any other fellow, eh?’
‘I tend to agree,’ Baldwin said. ‘Hoppon, you were near the assault; you could easily have walked there and back. I say you may have joined Osbert in the attack and that you have the coin here. What do you say?’
‘I say, ballocks to you! You think I’ve hidden money about the place, you go and fetch it. Now! I’ve never robbed any man in my life, and if I was going to, I wouldn’t rob the bleeding king! You think I’m mad?’
Simon stepped in front of the bristling man. ‘Hoppon. I don’t think you had anything to do with it. But you say Osbert was known around here. Why should he be known? Nymet Traci is a fair distance away.’
‘But he came from just over the hill,’ Hoppon pointed out.
‘What? Where?’ Baldwin snapped.
‘Osbert is John Pasmere’s son, from over there. Didn’t you know?’
Pasmere’s house
Osbert chewed the dry bread and sipped his ale through it, trying to moisten it in his mouth. ‘You eat this all the time, old man? Christ’s cods, it’s a miracle you’ve any teeth left!’
‘Shut your noise, boy. It’s better than most eat about here. There’s not much in the way of food since your precious master returned to the castle.’
‘Aye, the churl was keen to rob all about,’ Osbert said with a low chuckle.
‘So were his men. I heard about the murder of Jack.’
‘Eh?’
John Pasmere sneered. ‘Eh? Eh? Jack Begbeer. A good man, he was. Not some miserable lying churl who deserved to die with a knife in his gut.’
‘In his throat, old man. I’m not so useless with a knife that I could miss a target like that.’
‘You killed him yourself?’
‘The others were all cowering from him,’ Osbert said. He took a slurp of ale from the cup at his side, chewing slowly. ‘I couldn’t let them see a peasant get one over me.’
‘My own son turned murderer, eh? Wonderful. So now we’ll both hang.’
‘Only if we’re caught. And I don’t mean to be.’
‘I never thought this would end with friends being killed, Os.’
‘Then you were a fool. Innocents always die. Don’t go all soft on me.’
‘You used to play with old Jack, though. What’d he ever done to you?’
Osbert looked at him. ‘What does that matter? He had provisions we wanted. And we had more weapons and I had more men. He should have let us take them.’
‘Was he raised to surrender to any cutpurse at the side of the road?’
‘Perhaps not. If he was, he’d be alive now.’
‘You shouldn’t have killed him, boy.’
‘What’ll you do now with the money?’ Osbert asked, bored with the recriminations about his actions.
John Pasmere stared into his little fire. He listlessly collected up fallen twigs and flung them into the flames. ‘Me? What would I do with a hundred pounds in silver? Or a third of it?’
‘A half, old man.’
‘You keep your half, and let the monk have his. There’s too much blood on this money. I want no part of it.’
Osbert was tempted to tell him then, but it was pointless. ‘You sure of that? If you are, I’ll just go.’
‘Yes. Go. I don’t have a son. Not any more. You are dead to me, Os. Take the money and flee. I only pray that one day you will go and beg forgiveness at the altar where Jack used to pray.’
‘P’haps. One day.’
‘Do it, Os!’ his father hissed, staring at him.
Osbert looked pathetic. ‘What is this? You were happy enough to win the money with me. What makes you so cross about it now?’
‘When we won it, those people would have died anyway. I didn’t have any part in killing them. Nor did you, truly. They would all have been killed by Sir Robert. But Jack, that’s different. He was a good man. He didn’t deserve to have his life shortened. Can’t you see that, boy?’
Osbert fingered his nose, then pointed at his empty socket. ‘See this, old man? I won this fighting for the likes of the king and Sir Robert. What did it get me? Two shillings, one from each. And later Sir Robert realised I was still alive, and he gave me board and lodging. In exchange for some peace and meals, he let me run about the county stealing for him. What’s the difference between him and any outlaw? But since I took the money he wanted, I’ve got a life of my own again. You ask me why I killed Jack. Because I could. Because I saw no reason not to kill him. Ach, you can’t understand. You haven’t been marked like me. But now all is different again. Sir Robert’s dead, and soon his son will be too, if I’m any judge. There’s nothing for me here now.’