All through those years of abuse, her mother had been a source of sympathy; she had listened and comforted Felicia, often weeping with her as they rocked each other to sleep beside the snoring bulk of her father. Gunilda was desperate and lonely. She had lost her husband to her daughter, and witnessing Felicia’s nightly rape was tearing at her heart as her own misery grew, Felicia could see that. But Gunilda had never dared try to stop Samson. Every night as he roughly pushed or pulled at Felicia and mounted her like a dog on a bitch, Gunilda turned away, but that was all. Except recently she had taken to holding Felicia’s hand, just placing her fingers in Felicia’s palm as if to reassure her.
Felicia had hoped that once Samson was dead, she and Gunilda might be able to live normally, free from the fear he inspired in both of them. It had felt like a miracle when she heard Gunilda scream, then her father’s hoarse cry, and had run to them to see her mother standing, her fists clenched at either side of her mouth while she shrieked. Felicia had felt concern that her father was hurt, but not because she thought that he might die: she hoped he would. He had been an unholy menace to her. She hated him.
And when she realised he was dead, she felt no sadness, only a cold glee that had frozen her belly. There could be no more beatings, no more drunken fumblings. Now she need only submit to a man when she wanted to.
Like Vin, she thought, smiling as she recalled the last night. He was beautiful, with his large eyes shining, his lank fair hair fine and silken in her hands, his skin gleaming in the bright moonlight. She had always liked him, and now she knew he loved her. It was only ever her father that separated them, he said. His fear of Samson.
Gunilda moaned again as she stared at a dark corner of the room stacked with empty sacks. Her face was working, Felicia saw, and her eyes glittered with hatred. ‘Leave us alone!’
Felicia was about to ask who she was talking to, but then Gunilda’s attention turned to her. Somehow her eyes looked through her. It was as though Felicia wasn’t there at all. On the woman’s face was an expression of utter terror.
Whatever it was that Gunilda saw, or imagined that she saw, it was not human, Felicia knew. She threw a scared look over her shoulder, but there was nothing there. And then suddenly, Felicia could hear it: a voice that sounded oddly familiar – a voice filled with rage and fear.
And the dogs began to howl.
Simon entered the inn with a sense of genuine relief. It felt like a tiny sanctuary, away from the terrible noise outside. Seeing Meg had unsettled him, but the howling of the hounds had given him the willies, especially when he saw Aylmer bristle. Only when he was inside and could breathe the smoky atmosphere, see the light flickering on the walls from the candles and fire, did he feel safe.
Baldwin was behind him, his teeth shining as he grinned. ‘You aren’t imagining that William of Newburgh’s stories could be true, are you?’
‘It’s all very well you talking smugly about superstitions and foolishness, but I tell you, ghosts exist, and many live on the moors,’ Simon said hotly. Christ, he needed a drink.
The knight smiled and did not argue with his friend, but instead called to the taverner and demanded wine. ‘And where is the good Coroner?’
‘He has been asked to visit the Purveyor, sir. At the Reeve’s house,’ William said.
‘Husband, I am glad to find you here again,’ Jeanne said, entering behind him.
‘My love.’ Baldwin was about to greet her more warmly when he saw the other woman with her.
‘This is Nicole, Baldwin, wife to the man Thomas Garde.’
‘I have met your husband,’ Baldwin nodded.
‘You helped save him from being arrested, my Lord, and I am grateful,’ Nicole said, bowing nervously. She had never spoken to a King’s Officer before, and it was daunting. ‘He paid his fine.’
‘I am glad to hear it.’
‘But Baldwin, the Reeve has had him arrested again,’ Jeanne said impatiently. ‘This time for participating in a fight with his brother.’
‘Is this true?’
‘Yes, sir. Alexander had him thrown in gaol as soon as he could. He says Thomas tried to kill Ivo, but my husband would not attack anyone without being provoked.’
‘Good Heavens! Where is this fool Ivo?’ Baldwin demanded.
Taverner muttered something about the stables, and was sent to find him.
‘There is something else,’ Jeanne said. ‘This woman says that Aline was pregnant when she disappeared.’
‘A girl so young? She was only eleven or so!’ Simon burst out with all the anger of fatherhood.
Jeanne kept her gaze fixed upon her husband. ‘Nicole thinks that Aline had no boyfriends.’
‘What are you trying to say?’ Baldwin asked, holding up a hand to stem Simon’s outrage.
‘That this peasant Swetricus has regularly slept with his daughters, and when he got Aline pregnant, he shut her up in the only way he knew.’
Baldwin frowned. ‘If that were so, Jeanne, why should he kill the other girls? It is surely no coincidence that Denise and Mary and Emma were killed as well.’
‘There is one last thing. Ivo Bel was here when all the deaths occurred.’
‘How do you know? The first two girls died before the Gardes came here, so Thomas said,’ Simon interrupted.
‘It was Ivo who told us about their deaths,’ Nicole replied. ‘That was before he insulted me and tried to steal me from my husband.’
It was then that Ivo entered with Taverner, and he overheard her last words. ‘I did nothing of the kind!’ he spluttered angrily, his voice still thick and nasal. ‘I have only ever behaved in an honourable manner to you, woman!’
Simon felt his mood lighten to see what a hammering Ivo had received. ‘One man did that to you?’
‘I warned you, didn’t I? Tom’s rages are ferocious. You should be careful when he is angry, Bailiff.’
‘Enough!’ Baldwin said sharply. ‘We are not here to bicker, Bel. We are here to learn what you did to make your brother react so.’
‘He has wanted me ever since he first met me,’ Nicole said.
‘Rubbish. I am happily married,’ he scoffed.
Simon peered at him. ‘Really? Have you forgotten that it was only this morning that you told me you regretted marrying your pig of a wife, and praising the “lovely thing”, your brother’s wife Nicole?’
‘I said that?’
‘By the river this morning.’
‘No, Bailiff, you are mistaken. I could never desire a poor creature like this.’
Ivo threw out a hand to indicate Nicole, but he had misjudged the distance. His hand caught her about the eye, and with a startled cry, she snapped her head away. Then it was Ivo’s turn to squeak as he became aware of Simon’s sword blade at his throat.
‘If you so much as look at her again, Bel, I’ll shave your throat closer than ever before, you miserable dog’s turd! You slithering little worm! If nothing else, that action convinces me that you were lying. Weren’t you?’
Ivo felt the wall at his back, but his eyes were fixed with appalled fear on the solid steel blade that pricked at his Adam’s apple. He was convinced that he could feel the sharpness of the point puncturing his neck, and dared not swallow lest he stab himself in the process. ‘Um hmm.’
Simon withdrew the sword slightly. ‘Did you desire your sister-in-law here?’
‘I admit that I find her attractive.’
‘You told me this morning that your brother was a berserker when roused. Did you set him up to have him arrested?’
‘I may have taunted him a little.’
Nicole spat out, ‘He said I had slept with him three times! My daughter heard him.’
Baldwin joined Simon. His face was calm, but there was a look in his eyes that Bel didn’t like. ‘Is this true, Bel? Did you tell the husband that you had cuckolded him?’