‘Thank you, Odo,’ Sir Roger said as the people dispersed and Mark Tyler strode away angrily. ‘Could you arrange for a jury to be gathered and for a guard to be placed upon this body until we have fully recorded all injuries?’
‘Of course, Sir Roger,’ and Odo glanced about, reassuring himself that the crowd was dispersing, before returning to his duties. Sir Peregrine went with him.
Simon did not notice him leave. He stood with a feeling of bewilderment. Never before had he been accused of any serious crime. Once or twice men had inferred that he had taken bribes when they disliked his decisions, but never had anyone dared to suggest he could have been guilty of murder! The accusation had struck him like a shot from the King’s artillery. He was utterly stunned now he realised the enormity of the herald’s words; he couldn’t even trust his voice.
It was not anger. In an instant Tyler had hit Simon in a place he had always thought himself secure: in his pride. Simon valued his reputation for honesty, and the fact that a fellow official who was working for Lord Hugh could suggest such a thing had rocked him. When Hal accused him of killing Wymond, that was one thing: the architect had just lost a close friend and was lashing out at the first man he could – Simon hardly looked upon that as personal – but this, from Mark Tyler, was a studied insult. It showed Simon that he was vulnerable to attack, that accusations, unreasonable and unfair could be set against him.
And the accusation had not been withdrawn, he noted. If Tyler chose to continue to declare Simon’s guilt, the Bailiff would be hard-pressed to defend himself. Tyler was powerful enough, since he would likely have the ear of Lord Hugh.
Simon grimly set his shoulders. No matter who made unreasonable accusations against him, he would continue to perform his duty to the best of his ability. And that was all.
It was as he came to this resolution that a young urchin appeared in front of him. ‘Bailiff?’
‘Yes? What is it?’ Simon barked.
‘A message,’ he said, holding out his grubby hand.
Simon pressed a small coin into it. The lad studied it, then nodded to himself. ‘It’s from your wife. She says your daughter has gone missing.’
Chapter Twenty-Two
Baldwin and Simon hurriedly left Sir Roger with the body and set off to the stands. There they saw Sir Peregrine waiting for them.
‘Sir Peregrine, we have to go. Simon’s daughter has disappeared and–’ Baldwin began, but Sir Peregrine shook his head and looked at Simon apologetically.
‘Bailiff, I’m sorry, but these murders are causing a very great deal of alarm as you can imagine, and people are making all sorts of wild allegations.’
‘We agree,’ Baldwin said. ‘We must investigate this latest killing with great urgency. Two murders and we still have no idea who could have committed them, nor why! We must do all we can to find the culprit. After all, a man who has committed two murders may well commit another. We are fortunate that the Coroner is here.’
‘Quite right!’ shouted Mark Tyler.
Simon groaned as the King Herald appeared. ‘What now, Tyler? Why don’t you return to your duties here?’
The herald gave him a sour grin. ‘That’s just what you’d like, isn’t it, Bailiff? Get rid of me so that your guilt can never be proved.’
‘That’s bollocks, as you well know!’ Simon flushed.
‘Really? Then you won’t mind proving your innocence in front of the jury, will you?’
‘There is no need for that,’ Baldwin said sharply. ‘No one seriously believes that Simon is guilty.’
‘That’s not strictly true,’ said Sir Peregrine. ‘Mark Tyler has come to me to officially declare his belief that the good Bailiff here is guilty.’ He glanced at Baldwin apologetically, then turned his attention back to Simon. ‘I have no desire to be involved, quite frankly, but I have little choice. Lord Hugh has no options either.’
Mark Tyler smirked as Sir Peregrine outlined the position. It was enough for Tyler to have accused this Bailiff, without having to worry about the consequences. He was content with the reflection that he himself had been able to point it out. That would surely weigh heavily in his favour in Lord Hugh’s mind.
The tournaments were continuing, with squires testing their courage in the yard. From duty Lord Hugh remained on his seat, toying with a large mazer of wine, while all about him the stands erupted in cheering or booing as one after another of the contestants tumbled to the ground, for these were the younger squires, the ones with least skill and expertise. It would be many a long month before they had the ability or the strength to challenge a real warrior, but at least they were getting their knocks and being winded, which was always a good experience for a man.
Mark Tyler noted the scene with only a part of his brain. Most of his attention was focused on Odo, the man brought in by Sir Peregrine, he felt sure, to replace him. Devious, lying churl that he was! He’d inveigled his way into Lord Hugh’s household like a slug, slithering in and leaving his slime over all that he touched. Well, he’d better watch out. Mark was too fly for him; he wasn’t going to give up his place at his lord’s side for anyone. No, this odious Odo must get his comeuppance. Mark was no fool and he’d see to the arse.
Odo had finished monitoring the latest joust and there was a short pause in the events while Lord Hugh left the stand to take a piss against one of the grandstand’s stanchions. While he was gone, Odo trotted on his pony towards the huddle of men, his expression bemused. ‘What’s happening?’ he asked.
‘I have accused the Bailiff of murder,’ Mark told him haughtily.
Odo glanced at Mark with an expression of surprise. ‘But the Bailiff is needed by Lord Hugh.’
Mark stiffened. ‘The man is a killer! Would you have him next to your own lord?’
‘I’ve killed no one here,’ Simon sputtered angrily. He would have liked to continue, but Odo cut him off.
‘There is no need to worry, Bailiff. I am sure that Mark has merely made an error. Isn’t that right, Mark?’
‘I’ve made no… ’
‘Lord Hugh was very specific just now that he wishes the Bailiff back at his side as soon as possible.’
Mark stared at Odo. There was unsheathed steel in the other herald’s voice, a conviction and firmly threatening tone. Mark turned to Sir Peregrine and would have appealed to his better judgement, except he caught sight of a wink from Sir Peregrine to Odo: the two were in league! Mark felt his guts lurch, but then he managed to reply with hauteur. ‘Of course. We can’t have a murderer arrested, can we?’
‘Lord Hugh was sure you would retract your allegation,’ Odo said, with emphasis. ‘He is convinced that the good Bailiff is innocent.’
‘Then of course I withdraw,’ Mark agreed tightly. ‘If my lord tells me so, it must be true.’
He couldn’t wait and listen to their chatter; he had to get away. Being beaten like that by a man so new to the trade he could scarcely call out the colours of Lord Hugh’s own host was a proof, if he had needed it, that Lord Hugh’s patronage was gone. The writing was on the wall; Mark could see that. He had known for some little time that Sir Peregrine was disatisfied with him, but he hadn’t realised just how low was the esteem in which the banneret held him. It was a shock that Peregrine would side with a new herald and a Bailiff who was not even of Lord Hugh’s household in order to get rid of him, Mark Tyler, King Herald.
The Bailiff had been a thorn in his side from the moment they had first met. Big-headed shit! He thought he knew how to set out a tournament, how to lay out horse-lines, how to site stands, where to put lance-rests and equipment. As a mere Bailiff, Mark considered that Simon had managed reasonably well – but that didn’t alter his opinion that the Bailiff was a cocky old fool with little idea of how to perform the simplest task. And he had quarrelled with both Hal and Wymond. He was the obvious suspect! Mark had to wonder why on earth Lord Hugh should bother to protect him.