He could see the buildings of Iddesleigh now. The clump of irregular houses seemed to shine in the darkness, their limewash glowing like starlight, thatch gleaming softly grey. And then Simon saw where the hounds were leading.
Baldwin was still at his side, and Simon could see that he wore an expression of fixed determination.
The whole posse turned up before the inn, and their horses stood stamping and blowing as the hounds jumped the rotten old fence into the churchyard, whining and pawing at the door.
Simon dropped from his mount and strode to the gate, but Sir Geoffrey was there before him.
‘You have no jurisdiction here, Bailiff,’ Sir Geoffrey stated.
‘But I do,’ Baldwin declared coolly. ‘I am not sure that you do.’
‘Whatever you think, this is a matter for the local court,’ Sir Geoffrey snapped. ‘He’s my man, and I’ll have him tried in my court.’
‘He may be guilty of murder, and I’ll have him tried in the king’s court,’ Baldwin responded.
‘With all my men here you try to dictate to me?’ Sir Geoffrey asked. He set his head on one side as though contemplating Baldwin with interest. ‘I think you don’t realise how matters are arranged here in the country, Sir Baldwin.’
‘I know well enough!’
Simon could see that Sir Geoffrey’s men were starting to encircle Baldwin. One was about to stand behind him when there was a cracking sound, and he disappeared. In his place stood Edgar with a heavy branch in his hand, which he discarded with a happy smile fixed to his face. The smile remained even as he drew his sword from its sheath.
Baldwin had left his own blade in the scabbard, but he hooked his thumbs into his belt as Sir Geoffrey leaned forward.
‘Out of my path, Sir Baldwin. This is my quarry. We thank you,’ he added, ‘for your help in running him to earth! But he is ours, not yours. Leave him to us.’
Baldwin looked at all the men before him. He did not move to draw his sword, but met the eyes of all those who stood facing him. ‘I am the Keeper of the King’s Peace. You all know that,’ he said, and then added in his loudest voice: ‘I call on all the villagers of Iddesleigh to protect their church from attack by men from another parish. I call upon you to support the king’s Keeper of the Peace!’
‘You can’t do that!’ Sir Geoffrey rasped. His hand was on his sword hilt now. ‘If you think a few pissy villeins can stop me, you’re …’
The rest of his words were lost. As he spoke, there was the sound of hooves from the south and west. Suddenly, up the hill from Fishleigh, there appeared a force of men.
Simon eyed them doubtfully. If this fresh force was arriving to support their neighbours, even if all the villagers came out to support Baldwin they must be cowed by such an armed host. The men reined in as they reached the church, circling the group at the door.
At their head was an older man, slightly short, badly scarred on one side of his face, who stood in his saddle and gazed about him as though he was surprised to see so many men already there. ‘Is this a fair? Is there a party? What can all these men be doing on my lands without asking permission, I wonder?’
Sir Geoffrey cursed under his breath, and Simon realised that this new group must be his enemies.
‘Sir Odo. God’s blessings on you. It is good to see you,’ Sir Geoffrey said as though the words were poison in his mouth.
‘Yes,’ Sir Odo said indulgently. He had a mild manner and a happy smile on his face as he spoke. ‘I am sure it is. So tell me, Sir Geoffrey. Is there something about my manor that I can help you with? I don’t think I have heard of so many men on my lands since … oh, since you visited my bailiff last Saturday. He’s back home now, you know. And will stay there.’
‘This is a different matter entirely,’ Sir Geoffrey said. ‘The poor Lady Lucy of Meeth. You know she has been found? Murdered and thrown into a mire?
‘On Sir Geoffrey’s land,’ Edgar added helpfully.
Sir Odo appeared to notice him for the first time. He gave a small frown as he took in his appearance, and then looked over Baldwin. ‘I believe we have met, sir?’
‘At Lord Hugh de Courtenay’s castle in Tiverton,’ Baldwin agreed, bowing.
‘Of course. You are the Keeper from Crediton? And I saw you in Exeter at the last court of gaol delivery. You were a Justice then.’
‘I was. And I am here to apprehend a man who was once in Sir Geoffrey’s household, but appears to have run to the nearest place of sanctuary.’
‘You think he killed the widow Lucy?’
‘It is possible,’ Baldwin admitted. ‘Although we shall only learn the truth if we are permitted to question him fairly in a court, or if he confesses.’
‘He will confess,’ Sir Geoffrey grated.
‘That is no concern of yours,’ Baldwin said.
‘He is my man!’
‘But he is not in your jurisdiction now. He is on Sir Odo’s lands. Also, he is in the church, which means he has the rights of sanctuary. Until there is a coroner here, he is the king’s man, and I will not have him removed by you.’
‘Please, Sir Baldwin,’ Sir Geoffrey said graciously, bowing. ‘Would you stand aside that I may at least speak to him first? Perhaps I can persuade him to come out.’
‘No,’ Baldwin said flatly. ‘I shall speak to him alone.’
‘I could make you move,’ Sir Geoffrey growled.
‘I could demand the support of Sir Odo.’
Sir Geoffrey glanced up at his neighbour, and hesitated. ‘Very well,’ he said with as much grace as he could muster. ‘If you wish to speak to him, so be it. The coroner will be here before long, I expect. He was only a short way from here, I believe. Surely your prisoner will be taken off your hands as soon as possible.’
‘Perhaps,’ Baldwin said. ‘And now, Simon, Edgar, let us speak to this unfortunate man.’
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Nicholas watched them walk in with the terror of a man who knew he was facing death. He couldn’t stop his arms from shaking, and as he gripped the altar cloth with his fists, kneeling at the side of it, the golden cross reflecting the light from the candles and bathing him in a rich glow, he felt none of the calmness that the Church used to offer him.
He knew who was outside. There was no mistaking that rough, coarse voice. Anyone who knew Sir Geoffrey would recognise that mixture of bullying and swearing. The row made by the horses and men arriving had been one thing, but listening to his old master threatening the knight in the gateway, that was another. And finally he’d heard more horses, and that was when Nicholas knew he was dead. He was convinced that it was a second force of Sir Geoffrey’s men. It never occurred to him that it could be Sir Odo — someone who might save him.
But the thought of saving him was far from anyone’s mind in here, he saw as he took in the expressions on Baldwin’s and Simon’s faces. The two men walked in, Edgar waiting near the doorway, and even as Nicholas glanced at the priest nearby, he was already sure that these men would see him destroyed. Foreigners wouldn’t trust his word. Why should they?
‘Father,’ Baldwin said quietly. ‘I have kept those men all outside for now, but until there is more sensible protection, do you mind if I remain here myself?’
‘Of course not.’
Jeanne was at the rear of the nave, and she walked down to the altar now, a jug of wine in one hand, four cups in the other. ‘I hope a little wine will refresh you?’