‘You say he killed this miner?’ Squire Hector asked. ‘Do you know of any others he might have murdered?’
‘Not at present, but the main thing is, we have to remove the threat before any others meet the same fate,’ the Coroner said. ‘Especially my two friends.’
‘In which case, we should hurry,’ Squire Hubert said. The sun was rising in the sky. ‘We want to get there before the day is far advanced.’
Their plan was soon agreed. They had almost seventy men, which the Coroner and the Squire both felt was adequate. As they rode, Coroner Roger and the Squire discussed tactics. ‘I’ll take twenty-odd to the gate,’ Coroner Roger said. ‘You take the rest to the rear.’
‘Good!’ Squire Hubert said. His voice was warm and enthusiastic. ‘The Reeve and I shall get in while you are making some little noise, then rush the garrison.’
‘And open the gates so that we may enter,’ Coroner Roger reminded him. ‘But be careful that you don’t visit death on my friends.’
‘One dark man with a beard that covers only the point of his jaw, wearing a crimson tunic; the other a taller man, thicker in the belly, and wearing a tatty green coat and worn boots.’
‘For God’s sake, don’t tell him I said that!’ Coroner Roger said lightly, but in his heart all he could see was a castle in flames, and the bodies of his friends lying in the dirt, trampled by maddened horses and terrified men.
Baldwin left the hall and stood outside in the yard. He was there some while later when Simon walked out.
‘Baldwin, we have to try to get out of here before Coroner Roger arrives.’
‘Yes, you’re right, I know,’ Baldwin said, but Simon could see that his mind was elsewhere.
‘The boy ran at Sir Ralph. There was nothing else you could do.’
‘I could have used the flat of my blade to turn his knives. There was no need to kill him. I am an experienced fighter – and him? He was a monk, in Christ’s name!’
As he spoke, there was a gruff clearing of a throat behind them, and they turned to find Sir Ralph in the doorway to his hall. Seeing that he had their attention, he walked slowly towards them.
‘My Lords, I have to thank you for… Sir Baldwin, I owe you my life.’
‘You do. Undeservedly.’
‘Perhaps. But I shall try to meet your expectations of me,’ Sir Ralph said, a little stiffly, for he had not expected Baldwin to meet him with such discourtesy.
‘My expectations? I doubt that, Sir Ralph! All this mayhem – it’s all your fault, isn’t it?’
The other knight lifted his head with a faint renewal of his past haughtiness. ‘Me? Why should it be my fault?’
‘Because you are the father of all the sins here, that’s why! Do you realise who that boy was, whom I have just executed for you?’
‘The monk? I… I don’t understand.’
‘Don’t you? Yet he was your flesh and blood, Sir Ralph. He was your son!’
‘No,’ Sir Ralph scoffed. ‘He can’t have been. I never saw him before he arrived here.’
‘Call Scut here. Let’s see what he can tell us.’
Roger arrived a few moments later, wiping his hands free of Mark’s blood. ‘What is it?’ he demanded pettishly. ‘I have work to attend to, laying out that poor boy.’
‘That boy,’ Sir Ralph said. ‘Where was he from?’
‘Axminster. The poor fellow was born to a mother without a father. He was one of those taken into the cathedral by Bishop Walter some years ago.’
‘Axminster?’ Sir Ralph said.
‘Did you know a woman there?’ Baldwin pressed him.
‘Well, I did, yes, but surely she would have let me know if I had…’ Sir Ralph closed his mouth. He had met a widow there, it was true, and for a month he had stayed with her, but Mark couldn’t be his son. It was impossible. ‘No, he’s no relation of mine. His blood is not mine.’
‘He thought he was your son,’ Baldwin said.
‘It is true, Sir Ralph,’ Roger Scut said. ‘He confessed as much to me.’
‘And you didn’t see fit to tell me!’ Sir Ralph snarled. ‘Why was that?’
‘I didn’t think he could have been telling the truth. It sounded like a pleasing excuse, a way of escaping your anger, nothing more.’
‘And you saw a means of acquiring another chapel for no effort,’ Sir Baldwin said with poisonous sweetness. ‘You couldn’t tell Sir Ralph that this boy was his own son, could you? If Sir Ralph knew that, he would move Heaven and earth to protect his son and leave him there in his chapel, where Sir Ralph could meet him often.’
‘Oh, nonsense!’ Roger said nervously.
Suddenly Sir Ralph’s forearm was across Roger Scut’s windpipe. ‘Is it true?’ he demanded through gritted teeth. ‘Did you conceal my paternity from me to enrich your purse? If you did, as there’s a God in Heaven, I’ll cut out your heart and feed it to the pigs, Master Priest!’
‘I have done nothing of the sort!’ Roger Scut squeaked. He couldn’t swallow now, and the pain was increasing.
‘Leave him, Sir Ralph! You can’t evade your guilt and sins by attacking another.’
‘Get off me!’
Simon was about to take hold of Sir Ralph’s arm to release Roger Scut – with a degree of reluctance, admittedly – when there came another interruption. At the gate, a man on the wall cried out to the gatekeeper. ‘Shut the gates, and do it quick!’
Hearing the shout, Brian came out from the buttery where he had been enjoying his morning whet with another man-at-arms. ‘What is it?’
‘Men. Looks like twenty or so, marching here with a man leading them on horseback.’
Baldwin and Simon exchanged a glance.
‘What’s all this about?’ Sir Ralph asked distractedly. ‘Who can they be?’
‘It is the Coroner, I expect,’ Baldwin said soothingly. ‘He was expecting Simon and me last night, and when we didn’t turn up, I suppose he grew concerned.’
‘And since I am such a foul brigand, he assumed I’d have imprisoned you and tried to persuade you to give me all your fortune?’ Sir Ralph said caustically.
‘Sir Ralph, you can’t let these two go.’ It was Brian of Doncaster. He had strolled over to them, his hands in his belt.
‘Don’t tell me what I can do with guests in my own castle.’
‘I have to. You would risk my life and the lives of my men if you opened that gate. The Coroner isn’t here for these men only, is he? He’s here because of the raiding and the murder of Wylkyn. I can’t have you opening the gates and surrendering the place. You do that, you’ll put all our necks in the noose.’
‘Open the gate!’ Sir Ralph roared. ‘You: Keeper! Open the gate, I said. Slide back the bars.’
The gatekeeper smiled and nodded, but then looked at Brian, who shook his head and said, ‘It stays barred until I say it can open.’
Chapter Thirty-Five
The Coroner wasn’t surprised to find the gates closed to him. This was the home of a felon and brigand, and any large force must make him seek safety first, rather than risking an invasion.
‘Wait here,’ he commanded. Thomas and Godwen were with him as his Lieutenants, and both nodded. He rode to the gate and bellowed in his loudest voice, ‘Open this gate in the name of the King!’
‘Who demands it?’
A face had appeared on the wall near the gate itself, and Coroner Roger directed his attention to the man. ‘Are you Sir Ralph?’
‘No, I’m his Constable. Who are you? What do you want here?’
‘I am the King’s Coroner, and I want to talk to your master about the murder of Wylkyn the miner, and about the arrest and imprisonment of my own servants.’
‘Wylkyn died trying to attack Sir Ralph’s son Esmon, and as for your servants, there had been a theft in the area. It was our duty to preserve the King’s Peace, and we arrested them in good faith. Now if you intend to hold an inquest into the death of the miner, tell us when and where and my master will attend, but we will not throw open the gates to everyone who demands it at the head of a small host.’