The thought pleased him. An ironical smile curled one corner of his thick, red mouth, making his face light up momentarily. It made his face lose some of its harshness and returned to him a little of his youth. He was thinking that there was no need for him to worry about Hell any more. After tonight, he knew exactly what it was like.
Sighing, he slowly stood and shouldered his pack. There was no point waiting here for death to take him, he would fight his mortality as he had fought everything else in his life. The wind snatched at his hood and ripped it from his head, expanding and filling it, tugging at it as if trying to yank it from the cloak it was a part of, but he ignored it. Slowly in his exhaustion, moving like a rusty machine, he lifted a foot and dropped it a short step away. He lifted the other foot and dragged it forward to take another step and gradually continued on his way to the west.
The hood trailing out behind him, his hair was whipped into madness by the gale, dancing and leaping, each separate black strand seeming to try to break free from his scalp. His eyes were slitted as he trudged on among the trees trying to keep the driven rain from them, but they still glittered with cold rage among the maze of wrinkles at his treatment and bad fortune. The face had a harsh charm and stolid elegance above the thickly muscled neck, except for the thick nose with its heavy scar that stretched from the bridge and over the right cheek: it seemed too brutal for the other features. It sat with its pink cicatrice like a solitary mountain looming over a rugged plain, out of place and strangely threatening above the large sensual mouth, giving warning of his true nature.
The cloak was torn from his hands and he gave up trying to hold it and continued on his way, ignoring the wind’s cold pinpricks stabbing at his body through his tunic and mail. His body was immense and square, like a bear’s. But as he knew, even bears die. He signed again.
Then, even as he began to entertain thoughts of relaxing, of sitting by a tree and letting the cold seep into his bones, of resting and possibly never rising again, he heard a sound, a wonderful, miraculous, heavenly sound – the whinny of a horse!
Were his ears playing him false? He turned his head, one ear jutting towards the noise like a weapon as he tried to hear above the roar and hiss of the elements. Yes, there it was again! A horse.
Somehow he found a little more energy – from where he could not tell – and strode off into the trees. Surrounded by the trunks of the wooden sentries, he could only hazard a guess at the correct path to the horse and, hopefully, security and warmth. He forced his way through branches that seemed desperate to stop him, he kicked at trailing tentacles of creepers that caught at his feet, he struggled over thick bushes, trying to get to the horse. And then he saw it. It was ahead of him, standing and shaking in its fear and horror of the elements. The knight looked around in amazement. Where was the owner? There was no sign of anyone, no fire, no shelter, just this horse. Automatically his hand grabbed at his sword hilt as he stood just inside the line of trees and stared. But there seemed nothing to be afraid of; no sudden movement from the trees at either side, no noise from men running to him, just the incessant wind.
Frowning now in his perplexity, he slowly walked to the animal, which rolled its eyes in terror. Patting the neck, he could see that it was a mare and, to his surprise, she was still saddled and bridled. The harnesses looked rich even in the darkness and he could feel the quality of the leather under his fingers. Even in the rain he could see the flecks of lather that remained on her chest and flanks. Why? Had she been running because her owner was attacked? Why had she been left here?
What had happened?
He reached for the reins and pulled, but they appeared to be caught and, when he looked, he saw that they had snagged on a thick branch. Had she been running and got them stuck, making her stop? Shrugging, he collected them and led her away, patting her head and neck and talking to her while his eyes flitted around. There was no sign of her owner anywhere. Slowly, like a man who has forgotten how to and who is instructing each muscle in novel and unfamiliar functions, he permitted a smile to crack his face, and he offered up a quick prayer of thanks. Surely this was his salvation! This horse, evidently lost by another, would allow him to cover the remaining miles to his brother.
But it was when he felt inside the saddlebags that he began to understand his real fortune.
One was filled with coins.
Chapter Ten
Simon had spent the morning with Hugh, riding over to the east to check on the state of the lands over there that were now part of his responsibility. In reality, as far as he was concerned it was a good excuse to get away from the affairs at Blackway and to go for a good ride. Hugh, as usual, was not delighted with the thought, but when Simon mentioned the inn at Half Moon his interest suddenly developed and they were soon on their way.
They had left early, only an hour or so after dawn, and they were there before the local estate seneschal had finished his breakfast, so they had gone on without him, with the result that they were finished before ten thirty. After two swift pints of beer they started off home again.
But back at the house they found Edith standing and waiting. “It’s Tanner, father. He says there’s been a robbery on the road,” she said, her eyes huge in her horrified fascination.
With a groan, Simon rolled his eyes heavenwards in a theatrical gesture. “What now? A cockerel has been taken from a yard? Someone has mislaid his best hauberk? What now?” He smiled down briefly at his daughter, dropped down from his saddle, and passed the reins to Hugh before striding towards his door, Edith following.
Inside, he found Stephen Tanner, the constable, talking to Margaret. She came forward quickly and kissed him, then left them alone, going through to the yard behind the house with their daughter, casting an anxious glance back at him as she left. Hugh stayed in the room with Simon and Stephen.
“Stephen, how are you?” said the bailiff. “So what’s all this about a robbery?”
Tanner was a large, slow block of a man, a figure of enormous bulk, tall and broad. He had a square face on top of a body that would have suited one of the moor’s dwarf oak trees, solid and compact with the promise of great strength. Under his black brows his face was cragged and scarred by the weather, but his eyes were kindly and gentle. His mouth was a thin line, and always seemed fixed, rigid and straight, as if always pursed, making him look as if he had seen something that he greatly disapproved of. When he was unsure of something, his eyes held a constant look of frowning confusion that hid a careful and sensible intelligence and a shrewdness that had been the downfall of many a thief. Built as strongly as Simon’s house, he was known to be a good and honest man, which was why he had so often been re-elected to his position. Now, though, his face was troubled.
“Hello, bailiff. Sorry to come round like this, but I had a message to go over to Clanton Barton this morning, that farm on the other side of Copplestone on the Oakhampton road. Seems that John Greenfield there was working this morning when he saw some men coming up over his fields. They’d been set upon and robbed on die road to Oakhampton late last afternoon. He says they were in a terrible state, what with the rain and everything. They had tried to find somewhere to stay, but there’s not much down that way so they got stuck out all night. Well, he put them in front of his fire and sent his boy to get me. I’d heard you’d been made bailiff, so I thought I’d better come here and get you before I went over there. I know it’s my duty to catch thieves here, but now you’re a bailiff you have that job too. And if we need to get a posse together, I’d be grateful for your help. We don’t have too many robberies around here. If this is a band of outlaws, you may be able to get men from Oakhampton to help us catch them.”