He carried on to the stands and stood with arms akimbo, considering the watchmen as they strolled about the place, thrusting their heavy staffs into the longer grasses in a lacklustre manner. They might have been told to look about for possible assassins or dead bodies, but their every movement showed that they would prefer to be in their rooms with jugs of ale.
Yes, it would be interesting to be a member of Lord Hugh’s household, he reckoned. And as this reflection occurred to him, he caught sight of a slim, frail-looking figure walking along the riverbank. ‘Thank God,’ he breathed with real pleasure. ‘I’m glad you’ve recovered a little, Lady Alice.’
Chapter Twenty-Five
Edith had been determined to give her parents the slip for at least one hour in the day to see her squire, and yet it proved almost impossible. Even Hugh, who had been her ally in her last attempts to see William, had grown reticent, mumbling about how angry her father, his master, would be if Hugh were to help her.
After breaking their fast, Simon had hurried away, his face set into an anxious mask, and Margaret had chewed fretfully at her lip as she watched him leave the hall. Edith knew that her parents were both concerned after Simon had been accused, but it was too stupid as far as she was concerned. No one could seriously believe that her father might have had anything to do with the murders; Lord Hugh himself had squashed the rumours, telling everyone that Simon was guiltless. In her youth and innocence, Edith found it impossible to believe that a man so plainly honourable could be a serious suspect.
Margaret had seen men accused on less evidence and hanged. She knew, from what Simon and Baldwin had let slip over the years, that it was easy enough for a vindictive or foolish man to persuade a gullible jury to condemn an innocent man and, having felt the waves of hatred at the ber frois yesterday, she had no wish to see her husband set before a local jury or the county’s grand jury. He had enough enemies among the families of those whom he had sent to the gallows who would be happy to pay others to perjure themselves or bribe a jury to find him guilty.
‘If only we could leave here now,’ she said.
‘Mother, it’ll all be fine,’ Edith said dispassionately.
‘Don’t be a fool, Edith. You were there yesterday – you must see your father’s in danger,’ Margaret snapped.
‘He’ll be safe. Lord Hugh won’t want to embarrass the Abbot of Tavistock.’
Margaret bit back a sharp rejoinder. ‘The Abbot is a long way away.’
‘Don’t be angry with me, Mother.’
‘How can I not be angry after the way you deceived your father and me?’
‘I didn’t deceive you, I just–’
‘You deliberately concealed your behaviour with that youth.’
‘He’s not a “youth”, he’s a knight. Wouldn’t you like me to marry the son of a nobleman? He’ll inherit his father’s manor some day.’
Margaret felt a headache begin to throb dully behind her temples. ‘Edith, I don’t want to argue with you. You are not to see that boy again yet. I need time to bring your father round to agree to let you see him. Then you can decide whether you seriously want to marry him.’
‘Very well, Mother,’ Edith said meekly. ‘I love him. I could tell that when I saw him fall from his horse, but I won’t see him secretly if you don’t want me to. Still, I’d like to watch the jousting. There can’t be any harm in that.’
‘I suppose not,’ Margaret said wearily as a figure appeared in the doorway.
It was Sir Peregrine and he peered about the room as he walked inside.
‘Good day,’ Margaret said. When he stepped into the shaft of light from the hall’s window, she saw how exhausted he was. His face was lined and pale. ‘Are you well?’
‘Just tired,’ he said, smiling. ‘While there is a murderer about, I serve my lord by keeping guard outside his door. I didn’t sleep.’
‘I’m sure my father and Sir Baldwin will catch the man soon,’ Edith said.
‘I hope you are right. I’ve seen enough death with Hal and Wymond. And it’s not good for Lord Hugh to have these things going on at his tournament.’
‘I wouldn’t like to have to pull about dead bodies like theirs,’ Edith said, curling her lip.
Sir Peregine gave her a dry but indulgent smile. ‘I’m not surprised.’ It was true. She was a lovely young thing, and it would have been unthinkable to Sir Peregrine, who had no children, that such a fragile beauty should attend an inquest. Especially one with two such hideously ruined bodies. ‘You are suited to love and life,’ he added quietly, ‘not to mayhem and murder.’ He bade them a good morning and hastened away.
She tossed her head spiritedly. ‘Love?’
‘Edith!’ her mother said warningly.
‘Oh, I can’t even talk to other men, now, Mother?’
‘Not if you are going to be rude, no.’
‘Rude? I see no–’
‘Enough! Edith, you will remain here in the castle until you learn to be civil.’
Edith gaped at the injustice. ‘What? But then I’m miss all the jousting… You can’t mean it?’
‘I do mean it. You will remain here until you learn to be polite. I can’t trust you, not even when you are with me and Hugh. You proved that when you went off with that boy yesterday.’
‘Very well, Mother,’ Edith said, and bowed her head. ‘I shall go and walk on the walls, then. At least I can see a little from there.’
She turned and was about to leave the room when she heard her mother command Hugh to accompany her. ‘Don’t you trust me?’ she flashed out.
‘No.’
After asking another watchman near the castle’s gate, Baldwin, Simon and Coroner Roger were given directions to find a man called Fletcher, the watchman set to protect Hal on the night of his murder. He was sitting at a bench nursing a jug of ale.
Coroner Roger stood squarely before him. ‘Are you Fletcher?’ On seeing the man nod, he continued, ‘And were you the man sent to guard Hal Sachevyll’s tent the night before last?’
Baldwin watched as Fletcher set his mug down with a sigh and inclined his head again. The watchman was a lean, rangy man, probably in his late forties, from the look of him. His hair was bleached white from long days in the open, and his eyes had the dark intensity of a Celt, but he was a shrivelled man, worn and broken by too many disasters. He had the same appearance of desperation in his eyes that Baldwin had seen in the faces of peasants during the famine.
Giving the Coroner a significant look, Baldwin was pleased to see Roger shrug and allow Baldwin to continue. Unsure how best to proceed, Baldwin took a seat beside the man, contemplating the dusty, baked soil at his feet. ‘You were chosen to protect Hal – why was that? There were many other watchmen about.’
‘It is because I live alone. The other men about here have wives and children to return to at night, but my family is dead.’
‘I am sorry. The famine?’
‘No, sir. I was working in my lord’s fields when my house caught fire. The thatch. My family was inside and they perished. I could hear them.’ He shivered, his eyes focused on something far away.
Baldwin was silent a moment. The thought of losing a family in such a way was hideous. ‘So you are often selected for duties like this?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Did you see anyone that night?’
‘No, sir. I went there as soon as I was ordered. I had nothing better to do. I don’t sleep well. I… I can hear my wife’s screams when I dream, and I prefer not to. So when I was called, I rose immediately. I was there outside his tent a little after nightfall.’
‘And there was no one near?’