‘It’s a little late to pray, when you’ve just been planning to defraud the chapter of a large sum of money,’ Simon rasped.
‘I didn’t think it would hurt them! The Dean and his canons are so rich. And they said it wouldn’t hurt. ’
‘Reginald and Jordan?’
‘They offered to help me. They gave me some money.’
‘In exchange for what?’ Simon asked. ‘Come on! If men like them offer to advance money, they demand repayment very soon after. They tell you to bring it to them or they’ll break a finger, or cut off a toe, and if you still fail to bring them their cash, they’ll break an arm, until you suddenly learn how to bring money in. Perhaps by selling something; more likely by robbing someone. And so the cycle of violence continues … What did they demand from you, these usurers?’
Gervase shook his head. ‘They wanted nothing of the sort. The man Reg gave me some money, and was sympathetic about my bad luck at the knuckles, and Jordan said that I might grow luckier soon. I offered them a ring and some plate as collateral, but that was all, and they didn’t even ask for that — I had to suggest it.’
‘They wanted nothing?’
‘Well of course they did say that if my claim against the cathedral was successful, they would want their money back, but that was all. They seemed perfectly happy with matters.’
‘Then you may consider yourself very fortunate,’ Baldwin said.
Simon bared his teeth. ‘You think so? Baldwin, I’m learning more about gambling and whores since I’ve moved to Dartmouth. If this man was to leave the city suddenly, those two would know about it in moments, and a fellow would be sent after him to rob him on his way home. That’s how they work: no one is ever entirely free from such men, ever.’
‘You mean I can’t leave Exeter?’ Gervase squeaked.
‘You can,’ Simon said. ‘But only if you go now, quickly, without waiting to hear from the cathedral about any money you say you’re owed. Jordan and his friend won’t think that you’d leave without a profit. They couldn’t understand that, so they’ll assume you will be here until the chapter pays you, and then they’ll do everything they can to catch you and take it. And they won’t want to leave a living witness to their theft, of course.’
‘My God! I am undone!’
Baldwin glanced at him unsympathetically. ‘Yes. You are. And if you want to survive, you’d best begin telling us all about your losses, where you played, who else was there, and what Mick and Anne said to you about Jordan and his companion.’
Chapter Twenty-Two
Henry felt the pain quite low in his back today. There was never a day when he was entirely without pain, of course, but this one was a little different, a sharper one that stabbed quite deeply in his right buttock.
He closed his eyes, prayed, and continued, snapping the reins and forcing himself not to squirm in discomfort as he went up the hill that led from the North Gate towards the Duryard.
It had been an easy decision to help the daft beggar. That lad had a head more full of shit than many a scavenger’s bucket. Henry would want to help him even if he believed that Est had actually killed Daniel. He wasn’t sure. He’d never thought Est had it in him to hurt anyone — but if he had killed Daniel, Henry couldn’t blame him, he thought, feeling his withered arm.
Everyone else would think he’d done it. Well, they all knew he was the one who used to nip into their houses and watch the kids. Some men didn’t want him doing that, and they beat the shite out of him. The fathers were the ones who got most worried by him. There was something about an innocent sort of man who only wanted to look at the children — it scared them. He scared them. It’d be better if he was a real murderer, or a thief, to listen to the way some of them spoke about him, poor old Est. He never did anyone any harm, but they talked about him as though he was a madman, ready to pull a knife and cut the throats of their children just for a trophy.
The mothers were more sensible, most of them. After all, they knew Est, and knew what had happened to him. Perhaps the women just understood that dreadful loss, losing his wife and child in the same short period. All women grew used to the idea of miscarriage and failed birthings and dead infants. They were just a fact of living. No matter how good or clever you were, how much money you had, how well you tried to live your life, there was always that risk. So many children died young, it was a miracle not more mothers and fathers went mad with grief. Some did, of course, but many simply shrugged, wiped away the tears, and got on with their lives again.
Ach! What was the point of running over all that again. Everyone knew that Est couldn’t really have done for Daniel … except that they knew Est had been there. And quite a few — not all, but many — would be happy to see Est die anyway. They would have a poor fellow removed just because he unsettled them. They wouldn’t see him executed because of his difference necessarily, but if he was accused and convicted of murder, they’d accept that judgement and go to watch him swing. Good sport, watching the felons dance their last jig.
But Henry wouldn’t see Est hang for a murder he hadn’t committed.
He was at the door to the old cottage now, and he glanced about him before sidling in, whistling. ‘Est?’ he hissed. ‘You here?’
The place was a tumbledown old cottar’s home, and it had been deserted long ago when the walls started to collapse. Now just the spars of the roof stood out like the ribs of some enormous animal which had swallowed him. The idea made his scalp tingle. A low cloud swept past, and he felt a chill enter his bones with its passage. ‘Est?’
He should be here. They’d agreed that he wouldn’t go anywhere, do anything stupid, until Henry had come back to talk to him and give him some more food. Est wasn’t going to show his face for a while, that was all, and hopefully the row’d calm down and he’d be able to return to the city without too much grief once they’d caught the real murderer. That was the plan Henry had elaborated to his friend, but now Est had gone.
Ralph was furious. As soon as his throat felt as though it was healed, which took a couple of large mazers of burned wine, he left his house and strode along the road in a rage to think that he, Ralph of Malmesbury, could be treated in such a cavalier manner. It was a disgrace that the man should think he could get away with bullying a physician. How dare he? Ralph knew some of the best men in the city — some who were as capable of violence as Jordan. Jordan should have realized that, Ralph thought, and suddenly a deeply unpleasant idea took root and began to grow.
Jordan must certainly know that Ralph knew many of the influential men in the city. It was hardly a secret. With his access to people like the Sheriff (a dangerous man in his own right!), surely Jordan should have been more anxious not to upset him.
The more he considered it, the more he grew to believe that Jordan was fully aware of Ralph’s position and the sorts of friends he had. Yet he had had no qualms about attacking him in the street, where anyone might have seen the assault. That seemed to show that Jordan knew full well that he was safe, no matter who saw the attack. In fact, he didn’t care whether Ralph reported the assault or not.
Well, it wasn’t actually a murderous affair, so the most Ralph could gain from it would be a fine levied on Jordan, and as he remembered the look in Jordan’s eyes Ralph began to realize that the man cared not a ha’penny for him or his friends. Jordan was convinced either that he’d win any case, or that Ralph couldn’t proceed with it.
This wasn’t Ralph’s city. He’d lived here some years, yes, but he wasn’t under the skin of Exeter yet, and it was one of those places where it took time to get beyond the apparent bonhomie and friendliness of the inhabitants to the real characters beneath. There was corruption there, of course. That was no surprise; a certain amount of greasing of palms was essential in any profession in any town, and it was hardly surprising that in a city like Exeter, which was so far from the King’s government, there should be a permissive attitude to all kinds of business. Some laws were very laxly enforced when they affected members of the city’s Freedom …