Luckily, Edith didn’t see her father, but she saw the youth’s signal. She haughtily raised her chin and slipped among the crush of people. Try as he might, Simon could not see where she had gone. He hoped – he prayed – that his servant Hugh was nearby to protect her from the two-legged wolves who were parading themselves about the area.
‘Did you see the tits on that?’
It was the boy who had made the sign. Simon walked over to him. Although a part of his brain took careful note of the position of each lad, his rage was fanned by the careless attitude of the fellow who had insulted his daughter. ‘Are you talking about the lady who was over there?’ he asked coldly.
‘Yeah.’ The boy was too drunk to sense danger. He sniggered. ‘Wouldn’t mind stumbling over that in the dark!’
‘You’d never find her in the dark, Nick,’ said the lad on the fence. ‘You’re always too bloody pissed.’
‘Speak for yourself! I’d find her, I’ll bet!’ The lad was shorter than Simon by a head, a barrel-chested youth of maybe twenty, with thick, short fingers, and a dull expression. Large brown eyes slowly swept around the crowd, seeking a new target. ‘Mmm! Sweet, she’d be, like a taste of sugar syrup.’
Simon looked up at the youth on the fence. ‘What’s your name?’
‘Me? I am Squire William, son to Sir John of Crukerne. Why?’ William asked and lightly swung down from the fence. ‘You have a problem? You aren’t a knight, so you can’t command us, and you’re surely no squire, so what’s your difficulty?’
Nick, the barrel-chested youth, circled slowly around Simon. ‘I think he’s a merchant, Will. Not successful, though. Look at the hose, and that tatty tunic. Surely a mean little peasant man should be punished for speaking insultingly to a group of squires. What should his punishment be, d’you reckon? A ducking in the river?’
Simon ignored him. William appeared to be the ringleader and Simon concentrated on him with a steady, unsmiling stare. ‘I am Bailiff Puttock and I’m here to organise the tournament. And I don’t like to hear women slandered. Nor would Lord Hugh be pleased to hear that the fairest ladies of his household could be insulted by a mess of youths who had hoped to win the favour of the collée from him.’
The gang’s expressions altered subtly. They had been expecting to have some fun tweaking the nose of this grim-faced man, but none wanted to risk the wrath of Lord Hugh. Especially since his Bailiff might be able to put in a bad word about them to the heralds, a bad word which could take many years to clear. No one wanted their character stained.
Squire William recovered his aplomb first. He smiled and allowed his head to tilt to the side as he shrugged apologetically. ‘Sir, I am deeply sorry if we appeared to be disrespectful, but we were only admiring a woman.’
‘She was beautiful,’ the one called Nick said unwisely. ‘Built like the prettiest wagtail the King himself could afford! To see her wriggle her arse under that tight skirt… it was like watching a pair of cats fighting in a sack. Tee hee! You should have seen her figure, sir. Any man would fall in love with her for the opportunity of seeing her remove her skirts and tunic. I’ll bet even you’d give your soul for the chance of mounting her, Sir Bailiff. Tee, hee!’
Simon hissed, ‘Shut your face, you poxed son of a whore and an idiot! She’s my daughter! If I see you sniffing about her, I’ll cut off your balls and feed them to the pigs. Understand?’
William put a hand on his friend’s arm. He was reluctant to back down before any man, even an enraged Bailiff like this one. ‘Your language is intemperate.’
‘My language, you puppy?’ Simon roared. ‘Your words would offend a Breton pirate! You’re no knight, and I can well understand why. A whippersnapper like you doesn’t deserve preferment. A Bristol shit-collector’d be more courteous!’
‘You are intentionally insulting me, Bailiff. I won’t stand for it.’
‘You think you can demean a lady and still win your spurs? I’ll show you different, you ignorant–’
‘Bailiff! I’m glad to have found you,’ came a smooth voice.
Simon turned to find himself gazing at the King Herald. ‘And you have met the son of Sir John Crukerne, I see. How fortunate. I’m sure you’d both like to continue your… conversation… but I think Lord Hugh would be perturbed if his Bailiff and one of his most valued squires, a young man who could have anticipated a reward for years of honourable and loyal service to one of Lord Hugh’s knights, should become fractious.’
‘I’ll not apologise to a… ’
‘Neither will I, Bailiff,’ William said hurriedly. ‘But neither will I brawl vulgarly in the field like a common man – a man who is not of the knightly class. Come, Nick.’
‘Leave my daughter alone. If I find you’ve been trailing around after her, I’ll–’
‘Bailiff,’ William said, eyeing him gravely, ‘if I wish to see your daughter, I shall. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.’
‘Leave him, Bailiff,’ the King Herald advised. ‘His father’s powerful enough to harm even you. I wouldn’t want our lord to be shamed because of a silly quarrel.’
‘He’s not my lord,’ Simon muttered as he shrugged his arm away, but he was relieved that the Herald had been there. He had been close to drawing his knife, and he was sure that it would have been a mistake. There was no point orphaning Edith to protect her honour.
‘Thank you,’ he added ungraciously.
William gave a faint grin and was about to walk away when a thought struck Simon. ‘Wait one moment, Squire. Where were you after dark last night?’
‘Me? I left the hall quite late and joined my friends here at a tavern. Why?’
‘Which of your friends here will confirm on oath that you were with them?’ Simon asked curtly.
‘Any of them will, but why?’
‘How well did you know Wymond Carpenter?’
‘That shite? Well enough to avoid him.’
‘What was wrong with him?’
‘What is this?’
Simon smiled. ‘Answer the question and I’ll tell you.’
‘You enjoy your mystery, do you, Bailiff? Very well. The trouble with Wymond is that his work was poor. Piss-poor. In Exeter he caused the deaths of many when the stand he had built collapsed.’
‘I believe you owed money to Benajmin Dudenay?’
‘What if I did?’ The youth was startled at the change of subject.
‘For what?’
‘I am a warrior,’ William said with withering contempt. ‘I had to join our King’s host at Boroughbridge and I needed new mail. I borrowed money from Benjamin to buy it.’
‘How much?’
‘I don’t keep track of such things. Now, if that is all, I have other… ’
‘Were you in Exeter to attend the court this year?’
William glanced at the King Herald and made a show of shrugging. ‘I was there with many other honourable men.’
‘Such as your father.’
‘Yes. What is all this about?’
Simon studied the lad pensively without answering. He had no reason to suspect that William could have had a motive to kill Wymond, other than his instinctive dislike for a boy who had leched after his daughter, and he was fair enough to know that his feelings had nothing to do with justice, only with a father’s righteous anger.
‘Come, Bailiff, explain yourself.’
‘Because Dudenay was killed in Exeter and Wymond was murdered last night.’
‘It looks as if I cannot be suspected, then, doesn’t it?’ William said lightly.
‘Did you see anyone else about last night after dark?’ Simon asked.