Busse smiled to himself. ‘It is a sad tale of the misbehaviour of children, I fear. One winter’s Sunday, the children fromthe area went out there to play at a game of some sort. Well, we all know that playing games on a Sunday is frowned upon by God, don’t we? So He came to them, and struck them all into stone. All the little boys from a whole vill. Just think of it!’
Rob was thinking of it. His face wore a look of shock.
‘Keep feeding the fire,’ Simon called, and Rob quickly jerked back into action.
‘But why were there two circles of stones there, then?’
‘Oh, the Grey Wethers are the first circle — the second was not the children, that was some youths who also went there toplay on the Sabbath,’ Busse said. ‘And God was no more pleased with them than he was with the others.’
An owl called from deep in the woods, and Rob’s head spun towards it.
‘Don’t worry, though,’ Simon said. ‘There are no rocks in this wood. Not that I know, anyway.’
‘Oh. Good,’ Rob said, and then edged a little closer to Simon. He continued to set twigs on the fire, but now Simon couldsee that his eyes were as often on the woods all about them as on the flames.
Simon, nodding already, was only relieved to think that Rob would stay awake and keep the fire going for longer.
Chapter Fifteen
Exeter City
Robinet was soon at Master Walter’s house, where he knocked quietly. After a short period, there came the sound of bolts being drawn,and then the door opened a crack.
‘So you decided to come back?’
‘Walter, may I enter, please?’
‘I suppose. What’s happened to your old friend, then?’
Newt swallowed. ‘Someone murdered him out by the South Gate.’
Walter had been walking back into his hall, but on hearing that he stopped and turned slowly to Newt. ‘You kill him?’
‘Of course not!’
Walter gave him a sour look. ‘You leave here a day and a half ago, saying you were going to see the little shite, and nowhe’s dead, right? And where were you last night, then?’
Robinet held out his hands, palms up. ‘You know me well enough. Would I have grabbed him from behind and strangled him witha cord?’
‘Christ no! That would have been my way, not yours.’ Walter chuckled grimly. ‘You were always the kindly fellow who sought to placate people, and when you failedyou just drew your sword and stabbed them while looking them straight in the eye. I was the devious bastard who made people disappear.’
‘So did you do it?’
Walter of Hanlegh turned to face him, a man slightly shorter than Newt, with a sharp, narrow face and close-set black eyes. As he met Newt’s stare, there was sadness in them, an expression almost of wistfulness, as though he missed his past calling. It had certainly paid him well over the years, as was proved by his house, a smart, new building with tiles on the floor,a brick fireplace and his own chimney, and even a solar chamber for his bed. His clothes were finely embroidered, the shirtmade from the best linen, his hosen soft lambswool, his tunic bright and unfaded.
‘No, Newt. It was not me.’
‘Thank Christ for that, at least,’ Newt said with relief. ‘I thought you’d killed him just to save me from my stupidity.’
‘I would have — but a man has to make his own mistakes.’
‘Yes,’ Newt agreed. It did not help him learn who had killed James, but at least Walter had not succumbed to temptation just to help a friend. Not many men would have consideredmurder purely to aid a companion, but then not many men had been assassins in the pay of the king.
They were still in the house when the beadle appeared in the doorway. ‘Sir Baldwin? Sir Richard? There’s a man here for you.’
There was a tone in his voice that Baldwin instinctively disliked: a leering, amused note that jarred.
Sir Richard was not the sort of man to notice a subtlety like that, and he shrugged, grunted, and went to the door. Baldwinglanced at the still-anxious Langatre, and followed him. Outside stood a sergeant, but not one of the city’s men. This was one of Sir Matthew’s.
‘Well?’ Sir Richard snapped. ‘Be quick, man! I have been working too long already today and need my rest and relaxation. Youare delaying me!’
‘Coroner, I have been told to come here to bring the necromancer to the sheriff. He is not to be tolerated any longer.’
‘He isn’t, eh?’ Sir Richard said with a sidelong look at Baldwin. ‘He is in my custody at this moment, and he’s staying withme.’
‘Sir Matthew wants me to take him. There are some matters about him which make the sheriff demand that you turn him over tohis personal custody, sir.’
Coroner Richard’s face underwent a rapid change. The benevolent expression with which he had been surveying the world suddenlybecame as bellicose as a Bishop of Winchester’s whore’s when she learns her client has no money.
‘You tell me that you are demanding this fellow when I have already said he’s safe with me?’
Baldwin quickly interjected. ‘Sir Richard, this fellow has no responsibility in the matter. He is only the messenger. Perhapswe should go with him to see the sheriff.’
‘That man?’ Sir Richard muttered with a leery glare at the sergeant. ‘Very well.’
The sergeant walked to Langatre and took his upper arm in his fist. ‘Try anything and I’ll brain you,’ he said.
Baldwin shook his head. ‘At the moment, sergeant, he is in my and the coroner’s custody, not the sheriff’s, and not yours. You will release him now.’
‘I have my orders, sir.’
‘I have no doubt you do. However, my orders to you are to release him. This fellow is innocent of the murder, and I for one want toknow what the sheriff wishes to speak to him for, but I will not have him paraded through the streets like a common felon. I hope that is clear.’
North-East Dartmoor
In the event, it was Rob who succumbed to the cold first and went into the shelter to sleep.
They had set off travelling light, but Simon always ensured that he was prepared for foul weather. He could still rememberone of his earliest experiences on the moors, when he had ridden out on his old bay rounsey and been caught by a sudden mist.
The fogs could appear from nowhere, and when they came down a man was hard pressed to know anything: the compass, his direction,even whether he was going up-or downhill. It was disorientating to be so completely lost, and for a lad as young as he hadbeen, perhaps only nine years or so, quite scary.
Ever since then, he always took more clothing and provisions than he thought he might need when he crossed the moors. Usuallythere was no problem for him. After all, he knew all the miners and where they lived, so in the worst case he could usuallyfind someone to provide him with a refuge, but every so often, like today, that was not possible. And here he was now in arude shelter with two others who had little experience of such affairs.
Rob’s feet looked all right in the firelight, although Simon would be happier when he had checked them again in the morning,but he was anxious enough about the lad to give him his thicker blanket and his spare riding cloak for protection. Rob wearily crawled into the shelter, and Simon could see him wrapping himself up before resting his head on athick pile of leaves. In a short space of time there was regular snoring from inside.
‘You are a very capable man,’ Busse observed after a few moments.
‘A man does what he must. Only a fool is unprepared on the moors.’
‘I can quite understand why the good Abbot Robert, bless his memory, put so much trust in you.’