Baldwin slowly released Pagan. ‘True. But who else could have come up here?’
‘Ailward could have,’ Simon said. ‘He knew of this place because he knew his grandfather’s armourer. And he knew that no one was living here now. So it would be secure.’
‘Perkin,’ Baldwin said. ‘You say that the man Guy just near here is a charcoal burner? Was he burning coals when Ailward died? Charcoal burners often take their families with them. Does this Guy?’
‘Yes his family was with him in the week before that.’
‘So if Lady Lucy was here, no one would hear her screams?’ Baldwin said.
‘I suppose not,’ Perkin said nervously. The sudden burst of anger from these two men had shocked him. It shouldn’t, but he hadn’t expected such raw ferocity.
‘Ailward and Walter,’ Simon breathed.
‘I want to speak to this Walter,’ Baldwin said. He took one last look about the room and swept out.
Hugh heard them first. It was a part of him, this wariness. In the past it had been so that he could protect his flock from wolves or foxes, keep the lambs safe from buzzards or crows or magpies; now it was the in-built defence against predators on two legs that sent him scurrying towards the door when he heard hooves.
There were two men on horseback cantering down the track, and he peered round the door frame as they pelted towards the bridge over the river that led to Iddesleigh.
‘Who was it?’ Friar John asked in a whisper.
‘I don’t know,’ Hugh admitted. ‘Men hurrying down that way …’
‘They came from up there?’ John asked, pointing.
‘Yes.’
‘I was there not long ago. It would be a good place to watch Fishleigh, Sir Odo’s house.’
‘Why would someone watch there?’ Hugh said.
Humphrey cleared his throat. ‘It was said in Monkleigh that Sir Geoffrey sought to take over the whole of the lands east of the river. If he was launching an attack, he might set men up here to see when Sir Odo’s men were marshalled …’
Hugh nodded. ‘True enough.’ But now he was feeling a strange sensation. The noise of horses pounding past had set off a series of connections. It wasn’t anything to do with horses, though, he felt. No, rather it was a set of noises at night. People … The priest, Matthew! That was it! Constance had seen the priest outside in the lane, and he had thought there could be no harm in it because he was a priest, and had slammed the door shut. ‘The priest …’ he murmured.
‘What?’ Friar John asked.
‘Nothing. I have to go. See what’s happening there,’ Hugh said.
It was well past noon when Baldwin re-entered the inn.
‘Jeanne, I am sorry to have been so long. I think that we are making some progress,’ he explained as he walked into their little chamber.
His wife was sitting on their bed, breastfeeding Richalda. ‘I am glad to hear that. I don’t want to stay here alone too long. Emma is driving me mad.’
‘What’s she up to now?’
‘She would try a saint. She keeps walking out, inventing errands. I have no need of her running to the farm to ask for milk for me to drink, but she feels the need to go. Earlier she went to seek a biscuit for me, and then it was a blanket for Richalda. I don’t know what’s got into her.’
‘Nothing,’ Baldwin said. ‘It’s just because she’s hungover, I think. She is leaving here to go and vomit.’
‘Possibly,’ Jeanne said, wiping her breast as Richalda sat up and smiled at Baldwin. ‘What are you going to do now?’
‘We are off to question the man who was with Ailward on the day he died … the man who was carrying the body of Lady Lucy with him,’ Baldwin said, and explained briefly what they had learned. ‘I do not know how this man Walter will respond when I speak to him. He may be entirely blameless, although if he is not guilty of murdering that poor woman, I fail to understand what he was doing up there on the moor with a man from the other manor. He must have known that his master Sir Odo and Sir Geoffrey were at daggers drawn.’
‘You will be careful?’ she asked quickly.
‘Against one man? When I have Simon and Edgar at my side? I have little to fear,’ Baldwin said. He kissed her. ‘Why is Emma taking so long? I don’t want you alone. You should have her with you.’
‘At least she was good enough not to disturb our sleep last night,’ Jeanne pointed out.
‘True enough.’ Baldwin hesitated, wondering again where she might have been, but dismissed the thought as he hurried out to re-join Simon and Edgar. He busied himself making sure that his horse was ready again, and when he glanced up he saw again that curious expression of amusement on his servant’s face.
It troubled him as he tested the girth of his saddle before swinging himself up into the seat. Edgar was not usually given to levity.
It was quick, it was easy.
Surprise was the most important element in a good battle. Don’t give them time to think or plan, just get in and take what you need. Sir Geoffrey led his men along the road from the rear of the house, up from the river, the line that that idiot sergeant would least expect, and by the time the force had come into view and the sergeant and his man-at-arms had realised that these were not men from Sir Odo, it was too late; the Monkleigh men were in among them. One rode up to the door and dropped from his horse to go inside and seek spoils, while others herded the two men from the place, forcing them out of the way.
Walter was petrified, Sir Geoffrey saw. Well, good! He knew what a raiding party like this could be capable of, and he had every right to be fearful. The other man, what was his name, that sergeant? Crokers? He had no spirit at all. He stood with his body downcast, and as the men circled and stamped about the place he simply looked up with a sort of pleading expression. Pleading, indeed. He was caught up in the theft of Lord Despenser’s property, and Sir Geoffrey was here to recover it.
‘You two are not to come back here,’ he commanded from his horse. ‘This land belongs to my Lord Despenser, and if you return as trespassers I will have you captured and gaoled. My gaol can be an unpleasant place. So go! Leave this place and don’t return.’
Walter nodded quickly. He started to move, but only made a few steps when he realised that the sergeant wasn’t with him.
‘This land belongs to Sir John Sully,’ Robert declared, ‘and in his name I deny your right to appropriate it!’
‘Go home, boy! This is not your land, it’s not your fight, and it’s none of your concern. This land was taken from Ailward’s family long ago. It is time to return it to the proper owners.’
‘It is theft!’
‘Don’t try my patience!’ Sir Geoffrey roared. His sword was out, and he spurred his destrier forward. ‘See this? This sword was made for me by my lord. I will not have you nor any other man denying his authority here. Understand?’
Robert looked up sulkily. He opened his mouth, felt the tip of the sword’s blade tickle under his chin and swallowed hurriedly. Then he closed his eyes. ‘This land is owned by Sir John Sully, vassal to Lord Hugh de Courtenay, and this act is theft!’
‘Oh, just get him out of my sight,’ Sir Geoffrey snarled. ‘He makes me want to puke!’
Walter relaxed. He saw that they’d be able to escape now, and he wanted to get back to Fishleigh and safety. ‘Come on, Robert. We’ll soon be back.’
It was at that moment that there was a hideous shriek from the house. A man swore, and there was the sound of growling, a squeal, a series of hacking sounds, and then nothing.
As Walter watched uncomprehendingly, a man appeared in the doorway with a sack in one hand, a bloody corpse in the other. ‘Does he want his dog, too? I saved the puppies,’ he laughed, a high, lunatic giggle, and swung the sack against the house’s wall.
Robert gave an incoherent gasp, and lurched forward. Then he pulled out his dagger and ran at the man — but Robert was no killer. He was too calm and gentle to have learned how to stab, slash and kill.