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He was shackled to the physical world and could not escape its dictates. The wants of nature had to be satisfied on a daily basis.

Within the enclave, where his routine was supremely ordered, it was a simple enough matter to slip off to the latrines at given moments. When he was dragged into lay company and forced to travel across three whole counties, it was a different matter.

Embarrassment quickly turned into humiliation. When a female was present — a species which Brother Simon regarded with fear and distaste — his humiliation became a continuous ordeal.

Fortunately, the understanding Canon Hubert was there to help.

‘Where are you going, Brother Simon?’ he enquired.

‘For a walk, Canon Hubert.’

‘A long walk?’

‘I fear that it may be so.’

‘Do not rush back on our account.’

‘Thank you.’

‘I will keep the others distracted.’

‘You are very kind, Canon Hubert.’

‘Even a saint has to take an occasional walk,’ said Hubert in his homiletic vein. ‘It is the Lord’s way of reminding us that we are human and, as such, subject to human restraints. Do not be ashamed, Brother Simon. You merely walk where apostles have walked before you.’

Simon’s walk was more of a frightened scamper into the bushes than an apostolic saunter. Hubert smiled and looked across at the others. There were eighteen of them. They had broken their journey to rest and take refreshment. Ralph Delchard, the leading commissioner, had brought his wife, Golde, on the expedition.

Gervase Bret, his young friend and colleague, lent the commission legal expertise and it had been given further authority by the addition of Hervey de Marigny, a Norman baron with extensive holdings in Derbyshire. Eight knights from Ralph’s personal retinue acted as a bodyguard and the escort was swelled by the six soldiers whom de Marigny had called into service.

None of them had seen the emaciated monk disappearing and Hubert wanted to make sure that Simon’s absence went unnoticed. The latter had already suffered some jovial mockery at the hands of the escort and Ralph took a pleasure in bringing a blush to the pale cheeks of their scribe. Canon Hubert saw it as his duty to protect his fellow Benedictine from as much sniggering as he could. He waddled across to the others and lowered his bulk gingerly down on to the trunk of a fallen tree.

‘How much further, my lord?’ he asked Ralph.

‘Put that question to Hervey,’ suggested the other. ‘He has been in Devon before and I have not. If it were left to me, I would not be visiting this county now, but the King must be obeyed.’

‘We have already spent far too long in the saddle.’

‘There speaks a man of God,’ observed Ralph with a chuckle.

‘Had you been a soldier like Hervey and me, you would be used to spending a whole day astride your horse. The worst that you have to suffer is an ache in the knees from all that prayer. Hervey and I had blisters in much more testing places.’

‘True,’ agreed de Marigny. ‘We spent so much time in the saddle that we felt like centaurs. But it was all to good effect in the end.

With God’s good grace and Duke William’s inspired leadership, we conquered this beautiful island.’

‘Parts of it,’ corrected Gervase. ‘Wales and Scotland are not subdued.’

‘Not wholly,’ conceded Ralph. ‘But they will be.’

‘I beg leave to doubt that.’

Ralph grinned. ‘You lawyers must quibble over details.’

‘To answer your question, Canon Hubert,’ said de Marigny with a glance up at the sky, ‘we should arrive in Exeter well before nightfall.’

‘Thank you, my lord. What shall we expect to find?’

‘A warm welcome for weary travellers.’

‘I was really asking what sort of place Exeter was.’

Hervey de Marigny shrugged. ‘Then the truthful answer is that I do not know. It is almost twenty years since I was last in Devon and places can change much in that length of time. I was part of the army which besieged Exeter for eighteen days before it finally capitulated. The Saxons of Devon were doughty fighters and clever politicians. The King had to make several concessions before the gates of the city were opened to him. That did not please the Conqueror.’

He went on to give them a concise account of the siege and its main consequences. They listened with interest. Hervey de Marigny was not a typical soldier. There was no arrogance in his manner and he did not lapse into the boastful reminiscences which so many Norman barons enjoyed. He talked quietly and honestly, acknowledging the qualities of worthy foes and showing a respect for their customs. A stout man of middle height, he was shrunken by age and his hair was peppered with silver, but he retained all his faculties and would patently be an asset when he sat alongside the others in the commission.

He was such an amiable man that he had befriended everyone in the short time they had been together. Golde had developed a real fondness for de Marigny. He was courteous, attentive and genuinely interested in her. Canon Hubert and Brother Simon were strongly opposed to the idea of including her in the party, but de Marigny believed that she added a sparkle to the company and helped to soften the unthinking coarseness of soldierly banter. Golde looked forward to spending more time with the new commissioner when they reached their destination.

‘How long will we stay in Devon?’ she asked.

‘Too long!’ grumbled Ralph.

‘A week? Two? Three?’

‘Who knows, Golde? The size of our task is daunting. Our predecessors identified over a hundred estates with contested ownership. It will take us an age to sit in judgement on all of them. We may well be here for a month. A year. A decade even.’

‘Ralph exaggerates,’ said Gervase. ‘If we are expeditious, we should dispatch our business in a couple of weeks. And we must do so,’ he stressed. ‘An important matter awaits me in Winchester.’

Golde smiled. ‘Alys is much more than an important matter,’

she scolded playfully. ‘You make your marriage to her sound like yet another assignment.’

‘Why, so it is,’ said Ralph jocularly. ‘Gervase will approach his wedding day with the same zeal which he displays as a commissioner. Alys is one more case which comes before him for judgement. When they stand at the altar, he will deal justly with her.’

‘He will love and honour her,’ chided Golde.

‘Indeed, I will,’ said Gervase seriously. ‘But first, I have to return to Winchester in time for the wedding. Alys will feel neither loved nor honoured if I am trapped in Devon and she is left standing alone at the altar.’

‘We will do our utmost to oblige you, Gervase,’ said de Marigny.

‘Yes,’ said Ralph, taking charge. ‘The sooner we get to Exeter, the better. I have no wish to stay in this benighted county a moment longer than I have to. Mount up, friends! We will set off.

Canon Hubert?’

‘My lord?’ said the other.

‘Go and retrieve Brother Simon from the bushes. He has had time enough to lift his skirts and place a holy sacrament on the ground.’

Hubert bristled. ‘That is blasphemous!’

‘Then tell him to desist from blasphemy.’

‘Your comment was profane, my lord.’

‘And quite uncalled for,’ said Golde softly.

‘Then I withdraw the remark at once,’ offered Ralph cheerily.

‘Fetch our scribe from his prayers, Canon Hubert, and we will ride on.’

At that moment, Brother Simon emerged furtively from the bushes. Hoping to attract no attention, he was horrified to find every pair of eyes in the whole party turned upon him. Some faces were merely curious but others bore a knowing leer. Simon was mortified. His cheeks turned crimson, prickly heat broke out all over his body and he fled back into the bushes as if pursued by the hounds of hell.

Baldwin the Sheriff was in a testy mood. Instead of being able to enjoy a day’s hunting, he was forced to remain in the castle to lead the inquiry into the murder of Nicholas Picard. He was curt with the first witness he examined.