Sunnifa had shrunk from being the wife of a relatively wealthy man to being a widow in straitened circumstances.
Gervase took over the cross-examination of Inga. He admired her courage in calling so powerful an opponent as Nigel Arbarbonel to account but it was not his place to take sides. Convincing as she sounded in full flow, there were elements of her statement that needed to be probed.
“You make serious charges against my lord Nigel,” he said, “but you offer little evidence to support them.”
“I have offered a great deal,” she retorted. “I have explained how each part of my father’s estate was seized from us over a period of time and why we have been unable to regain ownership. You have heard my mother’s testimony and Brunn has also spoken under oath. Surely you do not doubt the word of a priest?”
“That is not the point at issue.”
“Then what is?”
“Documentary proof,” said Gervase. “To justify your claim, there must be a will and title deeds to the property.”
She bridled. “Do you think that we came here to lie?”
“Of course not.”
“And do you have any idea how many threats were made against us when we dared even to raise this matter?”
“How could I?”
“We mustered fourteen other witnesses to speak on our behalf,” she continued. “Each one of them was stopped from travelling to York.
Some were bullied, some were beaten, one even had an eye put out when he tried to defy them.” She held up her palms. “No, I do not have any documentary proof of this either and if you ask of Hogni the Blacksmith, he will tell you that his eye was blinded when sparks flew up from his fire, but I know the truth. My mother and Brunn the Priest know it also.”
Sunnifa and the old man nodded in agreement.
“These are heavy accusations,” said Gervase.
“I do not make them lightly.”
“The King’s writ runs in the north just as effectively as in any other part of England. If we choose, we can compel witnesses to appear before us.”
“They would refuse to speak on our behalf.”
“Even under oath?”
“Hogni does not want to lose his other eye.”
“We have only your word that the first was put out as an act of malice,” said Ralph. “I have heard good things of Nigel Arbarbonel.
Men whose opinion I respect have praised him. He has also served his king by fighting bravely against the Scots. Do not make wild allega-tions about him unless you have the means to substantiate them.”
“Am I to produce the title deeds to Hogni’s missing eye?” she said with sarcasm.
Ralph tensed. “Show contempt and you will be ejected from here.
That will not advantage your mother’s position.”
“No, my lord,” said Inga, flashing a steely smile. “And I apologize for my rudeness. I do not mean to offend you in any way. You are, after all, our only hope of retribution.”
“You would do well to bear that in mind.”
“Let us return to the question of documents,” said Gervase, taking over from Ralph once more. “In the last resort, everything turns on that.”
Inga nodded. “I agree. May I please ask a question?”
“If you wish.”
“The first team of commissioners visited Yorkshire earlier in the year. They were larger in number and did their work with great thoroughness.”
“So will we,” promised Ralph.
“When my lord Nigel was called before them, did he produce charters to show that he owned the land that once formed my father’s estate?”
“No, he did not,” admitted Gervase.
“How do you know that?”
“The returns relating to this county were sent to the Exchequer in Winchester. I studied them with great care before we set out. I also had the good fortune to talk with one of the commissioners who visited York. No charters were offered by Nigel Arbarbonel as proof of ownership in this particular instance.”
“Then how was that property deemed to be his?”
“By word of mouth. He swore under oath that the carucates now under dispute belonged to him, and his subtenants swore likewise.
The account book confirmed that they paid their rent to Nigel Arbarbonel.
That was proof enough that he was the legitimate holder of the land in question. Nobody came forward to contest his claim.”
“For one good reason.”
“What was that?”
“We were not given the opportunity to do so.”
“You must have been,” said Gervase. “That was the main function of the commissioners’ visit. To establish who owned what and for how long they had held it.”
“We were deceived,” she said bitterly. “When the summons came, we thought we finally had a chance to get our rightful inheritance back again. But it was not to be.”
“Why not?”
“We were deliberately misled. By the time we got to York, the commissioners had completed their work here and moved on to Beverley.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“It happened, I assure you.”
“The commissioners would never request you to appear at a place from which they were about to depart. That would be perverse. Who brought the summons?”
“He claimed to be the reeve’s man.”
“Claimed?”
“We think he was an impostor.”
“On what grounds?”
“He gave us false information,” argued Inga. “We were prevented from contesting my lord Nigel’s claim.”
“Did you not take this up with the town reeve himself?”
“Naturally.”
“When had he sent his messenger?”
“Two days earlier.”
“And the man who came to you?”
“The reeve did not recognise him from our description.”
Gervase sat back pensively. He was at least ready to consider the possibility that her version of events might be true. Ralph was not. He struck a note of jocular derision.
“One-eyed blacksmiths. Phantom messengers. Deep-laid plots to cheat you out of a mythical inheritance. How much more of this nonsense is there?”
“It is the truth,” she said indignantly.
“You tell a good story, I grant you that.”
“I am explaining what actually happened.”
“What you want us to believe actually happened,” he corrected. “But it will not hold water, I fear. Three of you are trying to discredit the testimony of Nigel Arbarbonel and several reliable witnesses. Against them, you carry little weight in the scales of justice.”
“We would carry much more if fourteen other voices had not been silenced. We are the victims of a conspiracy.”
“They all say that.”
Inga struggled to control herself, all too conscious of the fact that hot words might relieve her anger but they would certainly prejudice her case. Gervase could see her predicament. He adopted a more polite line of questioning.
“Let us return to your summons,” he said. “You were given misleading information about the time when you could appear before the first commissioners. Is that what you claim?”
“Yes,” she said through gritted teeth.
“And the reeve did not send the man who came to you?”
“That is what he told us.”
“Then what of the messenger he did send?”
“Good question, Gervase,” said Ralph. “I never thought of that.” He smiled at Inga. “Well?”
“I do not know,” she confessed.
“Another crack opens up in your argument!”
“No, my lord!” she denied. “I do not know because we did not stay in York while the reeve tried to ascertain how his summons went astray.
My mother and I set off to Beverley in pursuit of the commissioners.”
“Did you catch up with them?” asked Gervase.
“We did but it was too late. Their business in York was concluded and they were only dealing with claims relating to property in the East Riding. It was a crushing blow for us.” She winced at the memory, then rallied slightly. “But they did have the grace to let us state our complaint even if they could not look into it. We were told that a note of our protest would be included in the returns that were sent to Winchester.”