The excesses of the banquet left no mark on Hugh d’Avranches.
He was up at the crack of dawn and riding out with his guests for a morning in the forest. Deer were plentiful. While his huntsmen stalked their quarry with leashed dogs, Hugh and his friends waited in a clearing.
When the deer were sighted, word was sent to the hunting party and they mounted their horses at once. The dogs were taken in a circle to intercept the herd’s line of retreat. All three breeds, the lyme, the brachet and the greyhound, were kept on their leashes until the right moment.
Earl Hugh was impatient for action. Holding a lance aloft, he threw out a challenge to his companions.
‘I will kill the largest stag of all,’ he boasted.
‘Only if you get to it first, my lord,’ said William Malbank. ‘My lance is just as deadly as yours.’
‘You could not kill a mouse, let alone a stag.’
‘Watch me, my lord.’
‘Are you so sure of yourself, William?’
‘I am, indeed.’
‘I admire a man with confidence.’
‘Nobody has more than William Malbank.’
‘Then you will risk another wager?’
‘No,’ said the other, checked by the memory of his severe loss on the previous morning. ‘There is no need for a wager.’
‘Do you have no more mistresses to spare?’
Malbank blenched and the others ridiculed him but the earl stopped the laughter at once with a wave of his lance. Stag-hunting required stealth. He did not want the herd to be frightened away before he had made his first kill.
In the middle distance, one of the huntsmen advanced on foot with a pair of lyme-hounds to drive the deer towards the hunting party. The horn was soon raised and a loud blast echoed through the greenwood. It was the signal they had been waiting for and they did not hesitate. The deer fled, the hounds were released and the chase was on.
For all his bulk, Hugh kept his horse at the front of the pack, slashing at overhanging foliage with his lance and urging his mount into reckless pursuit. The whole forest reverberated with the clamour. Frightened deer darted wildly and baying dogs slowly closed in. Hot blood coursed through the veins of the hunting party. For many of them, the thrill of the chase was enough in itself, but not for Earl Hugh.
He needed a kill to satisfy his bloodlust and no slender deer would content him. Only a stag would suffice. He charged on through the forest with increasing speed until the hounds finally cornered their quarry in a clearing. It was a full-grown stag with huge antlers which it used to jab at the snarling dogs, catching the first to attack and tossing it yards across the grass. But there was no defence against Hugh the Gross. Reining in his horse in front of the beast, he raised his arm and needed only one vicious thrust of the lance to pierce the stag’s breast and drain the life out of it.
By the time that William Malbank arrived, the earl had dismounted to stand beside the fallen animal. Huntsmen swiftly leashed the dogs again to prevent them from eating the stag.
‘What did I tell you, William?’ said Hugh.
‘I was a fool even to accept your challenge, my lord.’
‘No hunter can ever get the better of me.’
He gave a laugh of celebration but it died in his throat as an arrow suddenly came whistling through the air to miss him by a matter of inches. It buried itself instead in the chest of one of the huntsmen and knocked him off his feet.
The man was killed instantly.
Chapter Five
It was a productive day at the shire hall. The town reeve had everything in readiness for the commissioners and they were able to examine a steady stream of witnesses without delay or interruption. Several minor disputes were settled and they were left with the feeling of having made substantial progress in a relatively short time. More complex cases still awaited them but they seemed less daunting now that such a promising start had been made.
The shire hall itself was very similar in design and construction to the many other places in which they had deliberated. Long, low and airless, its small windows admitted poor light and its sunken floor had undulations which could trip the unwary, but efforts had been made to introduce some elements of comfort for the distinguished visitors. The four chairs behind their long table each had a cushion and a second table bore refreshment in the form of wine, beer and a liberal supply of girdle breads and honey cakes. Candles stood in holders should more illumination be required.
Benches were set out in front of the commissioners for use by the many disputants and witnesses who would be called during their stay in the city. Six of Ralph’s men remained on guard at the back of the hall while the remainder took it in turns to provide sentry duty outside the building. Their presence was far more than merely decorative. Past experience had shown that armed soldiers were often needed to subdue an unruly gathering or to separate angry disputants who traded blows. At that first session, however, they were not called upon to provide either service to the commissioners.
Ralph Delchard called an end to the day’s judicial work. His headache had finally subsided and his stomach was no longer in rebellion, but he still resisted the temptation to touch any of the refreshment which had been supplied for them. Canon Hubert needed no encouragement to consume all of Ralph’s share and most of Brother Simon’s as well as his own.
The four of them gathered up their documents and rose to leave the table. Ralph gave a nod of congratulation.
‘We have done well,’ he announced. ‘Let us hope that every day is as painless as this one.’
‘It is highly unlikely,’ said Hubert.
‘Yes,’ agreed Gervase. ‘When we deal with major disputes where far more is at stake, we are bound to encounter greater difficulties.’
‘Nothing that is beyond our capacity to handle,’ said Ralph complacently. ‘I foresee no real problems.’
‘Then you have not studied the cases carefully enough,’ Hubert reproved him, slipping the last honey cake into his mouth. ‘We will soon be dealing with disputants who have the backing of Earl Hugh and it is an open question whether they accept our authority without protest or simply ignore our judgements and appeal to their master.’
‘We speak for the King,’ said Ralph firmly. ‘Our decisions must be accepted without complaint or resistance.’
‘Nobody will surrender land without complaint, my lord.’
‘Or pay taxes without resistance,’ said Gervase.
‘The status of royal commissioners must be respected,’ resumed Ralph. ‘So far, it has been. Most importantly, by Earl Hugh himself.
We must never forget that he is the King’s nephew and trusted vassal. Even our headstrong host will surely do nothing to offend his uncle.’
‘I would question that presumption,’ said Hubert.
‘You question everything.’
‘I have learned to take nothing for granted, my lord.’
‘We have noticed.’
‘Someone has to safeguard our interests.’
‘That is my task,’ said Ralph, stung by the criticism, ‘and I perform it with diligence. But I do not make a fetish of suspicion. You spy danger on every side, Hubert. You see peril where none exists. I know how to distinguish petty inconvenience from real threat.’
‘We will have our share of both before we are done.’
‘Let us not rush to meet adversity,’ suggested Gervase, trying to terminate the latest argument between two men whose relationship was uneasy at the best of times. ‘Today has seen definite progress. We should be heartened by that.’
‘I am, Gervase,’ said Brother Simon. ‘We have had a most effective and profitable session. I am deeply sorry that we have suspended our work for the day.’
‘Why?’
‘Because it means that Canon Hubert and I must return to the cathedral to face further torment.’
‘Torment?’
‘From that turbulent archdeacon from Wales.’
‘Do not remind me!’ groaned Hubert.