That was when the anger took hold of him. She wasn’t his wife, she was counterfeit. Just another woman trying to get her hand on his cods and then into his purse. That was all she wanted, his money.
He had shoved her from him, the bitch. Bitch! Yes, he’d thrust her away, and she’d protested, just like they all did. Claimed he’d torn her tunic, wanted money. Told him he was a eunuch, that maybe he’d prefer a boy – and that was when he bunched his fists and went for her.
Afterwards, he found himself wandering the streets of Exeter with the money from her purse in his hand. He went to the bridge and stared at the coins, for a while, unsure where they’d come from, and as the memory came back, he had held them out over the water and let them fall slowly, one by one, into the cleansing waters of the Exe. They fell with the small drips of blood where one of her teeth had broken on his knuckle.
From that day he had never returned to Exeter. Women weren’t for him. He remembered his wife as she had been when she was young, and there was no one who could compare with that memory. He sometimes lusted after young girls, but only because they reminded him of his wife. And it made him jealous that other men should own such perfect youth. He never could again. Not after his crime.
After hearing Miles Houndestail’s words, Coroner Roger adjourned the inquest, telling the jury to repair to the inn. The girl’s remains were to be taken to the chapel, and given into the Parson’s care.
As the crowd began to disperse, Baldwin suddenly caught his breath. There, farther up the hill, was the dwarf-like man he had seen yesterday talking to the tall guard by the wall, and with him was the hooded figure Baldwin had seen in the clearing. Both stood silently watching, outsiders who were plainly not included in the jury.
‘Who are they?’ Baldwin asked the Reeve.
‘That small fellow is Serlo the Warrener, and the one in the hood is Mad Meg. She’s simple.’
The Reeve evidently considered their conversation to be over, for he turned to follow the Coroner. Glancing back, Baldwin saw the pair drift away among the trees. Somehow he felt sure that they were going to the clearing and he was tempted to follow them, but knew he couldn’t. He must go with Roger and the others.
Entering the inn, he saw Coroner Roger was already sitting with a jug of ale in his fist. A few workers strolled in, as did one weary traveller, but one glance at the Coroner’s face and the jury standing all about, persuaded them to sit elsewhere. Baldwin thought Roger looked close to exploding, his features were so red, and he saw Jeanne throw him an anxious look. She took her seat at Baldwin’s side, and Edgar took his place behind them while Aylmer sat at Baldwin’s knee.
Reeve Alexander appeared a few moment later and the Coroner eyed him with a thunderous expression. He did not invite Alexander to sit, but made him stand in front of the jury, next to Miles Houndestail.
‘Master Houndestail, you have said that there might have been another case of cannibalism. Why do you suggest that?’
‘I don’t live here, sir. It’s not personal knowledge,’ Miles said. ‘But when I reported the skull, I heard people say, “Not another child eaten!” That is why I thought fit to tell you about it.’
Alexander stood with his head hanging, his cocksure posture quite forgotten.
‘Reeve Alexander,’ Coroner Roger said gravely, ‘we have heard that you had another case of cannibalism here. I do not recall any such case. When was this reported?’
‘Perhaps it was before your time as Coroner?’
‘Perhaps, yet I have been Coroner for more than eight years and in that time I have always discussed strange cases with my colleagues. I think that if they were to have come here and learned of cannibalism, they would have mentioned it to me. What do you think?’
‘They might,’ the Reeve stammered, ‘but – but if there were many deaths at the same time, they might have forgotten about it.’
‘You lying son of a Winchester whore!’ Coroner Roger burst out. ‘You open your mouth and spew out untruth! When was this body found?’
‘It was so long ago…’
‘Rack your brain, before I have you gaoled.’
‘I swear, Coroner, it was so long…’
‘Perhaps I can prompt your memory, then,’ Coroner Roger said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. ‘After all, I have all the rolls recording every reported death for the last many years. Tell me, do you think it might have been last year? Five years ago? I don’t recall that many deaths being reported from over here, but I dare say my own memory is playing me false.’
Alexander looked about him as though seeking an escape. ‘My Lord Coroner, if I could have a few moments to consider, to ask other men here when they recall it and–’
‘Enough!’ Sir Roger’s patience finally ran out. He turned to Baldwin and brought the flat of his hand down onto the table-top to cut off the Reeve. ‘Sir Baldwin, I want this man held. Could you instruct your man-at-arms to take him into custody and escort him and me to Exeter? We’ll see what the justice thinks of his action. “Long ago”, my arse!’
‘My Lord, please, I don’t mean to try your patience,’ Alexander said hurriedly as Edgar stepped forward. The Reeve had paled, as though he was ready to fall to his knees and beg for his continued freedom, but he knew he must speak swiftly for Coroner Roger’s temper would brook no delay.
‘Then speak out, you whore’s kitling!’
‘It was at the height of the famine,’ Alexander began painfully.
‘What? You mean…’ The Coroner was lost for words for a space. ‘Christ’s balls, you mean you kept secret a death that happened seven years ago?’
‘What else could we do?’ the Reeve returned shrilly. ‘The whole county was being devastated, people falling over almost daily. We couldn’t afford to send someone to fetch the Coroner, and we couldn’t afford to be fined. What would you have done in our position?’
Roger clenched his fist and slammed it down on the table before him, making the table-top slip sideways on its trestles. ‘Don’t give me that, you shit! You know full well that it’s the duty of all to report any dead body as soon as it’s found. Your duty was to report the body to me, to me! Why didn’t you?’
Alexander’s face darkened and he lost his fear. ‘Have you forgotten what it was like here seven years ago? We had half the grain we’d expected and then the animals began to die. Horses got rot in their legs and so did the cattle, with the rain and the mud. The sheep got blowflies and they all started to die, eaten from inside by maggots. Our children were fading away, growing weaker daily, and there was nothing we could do about it. Nothing!’ His voice hoarsened. ‘I lost two boys, two good, healthy, strapping sons, just because there wasn’t enough food for them. When there’s a famine, the children die that bit faster; they were falling like stuck pigs. Don’t you remember?’
Simon took a gulp of his wine. ‘We all remember, Reeve, but why didn’t you report it?’
‘How many deaths were reported? When there are so many bodies, you can’t expect people to stick to the normal rules.’
‘Such as reporting murder – or cannibalism, I suppose,’ the Coroner sneered.
‘Do not be too hard,’ Baldwin said quietly. ‘Extremes can lead to people behaving foolishly.’
‘It hardly sounds convincing to me,’ Coroner Roger said grimly. ‘How could any man resort to cannibalism?’
‘You have not lived through a siege, Coroner,’ Baldwin said, watching the Reeve.