PRECEPTORY
A Templar establishment (see Commandery).
PRESENTMENT OF ENGLISHRY
Following the 1066 Conquest, many Normans were covertly killed by aggrieved Saxons, so the law decreed that anyone found dead from unnatural causes was presumed to be a Norman, and the community was heavily punished by the ‘murdrum’ fine, unless they could prove that the deceased was Saxon. This was done before the coroner by male members of the family. This continued for several centuries, as a good source of revenue for the Treasury, even though it became meaningless so long after the Conquest, due to intermarriage.
SCILLY ISLES
A group of islands off Land’s End, noted for pirates in the Middle Ages. In 1208, over 100 pirates were hanged there at Tresco.
SECONDARY
A young priest, junior to a vicar (qv), who may also be an assistant to a canon (qv).
SERGEANT
Also spelt ‘serjeant’, has several meanings. A senior-man-at-arms, or a law officer in early times, below a bailiff in a town; also the squire of a Templar Knight, who wore brown or black.
SHERIFF
The ‘shire-reeve’, the King’s representative in each county, responsible for law and order and the collection of taxes. There was great corruption amongst sheriffs, and it was a much-sought-after appointment, large sums being paid for the post, due to the many opportunities for embezzlement.
SENESCHAL
See Steward.
SOCMAN
A freeman, as opposed to a bondsman. The latter consisted of villiens, serfs and slaves in descending order of servitude in the feudal system.
STEWARD
The senior servant of a lord, also called a seneschal. It could be a highly prestigious and responsible post, especially in a great house. The Stuart dynasty derived their name from being stewards.
SUMPTER HORSE
A pack animal, used for carrying loads rather than riding.
SURCOAT
Also called a ‘super-tunic’, it was worn over the tunic or over armour, where it protected the wearer from the sun on the metal and provided a site for heraldic emblems. The most famous was the white surcoat of the Knights Templar, with the characteristic broad red Cross.
TRAIL-BASTON
A highway robber, an outlaw (qv) who usually worked with a gang.
TUNIC
The main garment for a man, pulled over the head to reach the knee or calf. A linen shirt might be worn underneath and a cloak or mantle over it. The skirt was slit for riding a horse.
UNDERCROFT
The lowest level of a fortified building. The entrance to the rest of the structure was on the floor above, isolated from the undercroft, which might be partly below ground level. Removable wooden stairs prevented attackers from reaching the main entrance above.
VICAR
A priest employed by a more senior cleric, such as a canon (qv) to carry out some of his religious duties, especially attending the numerous services in the cathedral. Often called a vicar-choral, from his participation in chanted services.
WATTLE & DAUB
A common medieval building technique, where clay or plaster is applied over a woven framework of hazel withies.
Prologue
March 1195
The disabled ship drifted rapidly towards the lee shore, a rugged coast seen dimly in the dusk. Although by the violent standards of the Severn Sea the weather was far from extreme, there was a strong north-westerly wind, sufficient to raise spume from the crests of the grey Atlantic rollers and partly obscure the towering cliffs with spray.
The short, stumpy vessel pitched and rolled at the mercy of the waves, having no steerage-way from the single sail, which lay collapsed on the deck. Neither was there a steering oar near the stern, both that and the steersman having been washed away. The little ship was now merely flotsam awaiting the inevitable impact with the northern coast of Devon. The great cliffs, where Exmoor abruptly tumbled into the sea opposite distant Wales, now loomed on the port beam of the derelict. Although all the land immediately ahead was lower than to the east, it still presented a jagged prospect of rocks, reefs and coves.
The knarr was a broader version of the Viking longboat, with high stem and stern posts, but no dragon carvings ornamented it. The forward and after thirds were decked in, but the centre was an open hatch for the cargo. The canvas cover was gone, as was the cargo, and the hold was thigh-deep in water, which shipped over the sides each time the knarr broached the waves in its uncontrolled plunge towards the rocks.
Although it was dusk, there was still enough light for the sole survivor to see the corpse of one of his shipmates lying alongside him, his feet tangled in a rope, which had saved it from being washed overboard. Terrified, the young seaman clung to a fallen spar on the deck and stared ahead through the spray at the grey bulk of the shore, which seemed to race towards him. He knew most of the landmarks between Penzance and Bristol and, even through his fear, recognised to his left the Great Hangman, England’s highest cliff, which towered more than a thousand feet above the end of Combe Martin Bay.
As the last few cable-lengths of open sea gave way to thunderous white surf, he glimpsed a dim yellow light high on the land, above the point where the vessel must inevitably strike. A few seconds later, with a shriek of terror, the youth felt a grinding crash as a roller lifted the hull on to a jagged reef at the foot of a cliff. The impact tore his feeble grasp from the spar and, as the vessel tilted almost on to her beam ends, he slid across the deck and was washed off into the surf by the advancing wave. The breaker rolled him up a narrow gully between the rocks and almost contemptuously spat him out on to a tongue of shingle that ended in a shallow cave. Sobbing with fear and only half aware of his surroundings, he scrabbled on hands and knees through the white foam that streamed back to meet the next wave and collapsed far enough up the tiny beach to escape being sucked back into the sea.
Wet through in the keen wind, he lay shivering for a while, then slipped into unconsciousness, unaware of the wavering gleam of a horn lantern and the scrunch of feet that came down a narrow path from above.
Chapter One
In which Crowner John mounts his horse
‘At last, Gwyn! I can do it without that bloody box!’
Later, John de Wolfe thought how strange it was that he should be so exultant at such a little thing, which would never have crossed his mind two months ago. Yet, in Martin’s Lane that morning, he was as pleased as a child with a new toy. The two men who watched him seemed just as delighted, but his servant Mary, who watched from the doorway of his house opposite, clucked under her breath at the infantile antics of three grown men.
The ‘bloody box’ was a set of crude wooden steps knocked together by Gwyn of Polruan. It had done sterling service for the past two weeks, in allowing de Wolfe to climb up on to his new horse, Odin. But this morning he had been able to discard Gwyn’s invention and put his whole weight on his injured left leg to lift the other into the stirrup. Now he sat solidly on the back of the patient stallion, a grin spreading across his normally stern face.
‘You’d better carry this crook for the time being, Crowner,’ advised Gwyn, the shaggy red-headed giant of a Cornishman who had been his henchman for almost twenty years. He handed up a walking stick, which de Wolfe had been using since he threw away his crutch three weeks earlier, and the coroner pranced the stallion up and down the lane for a few yards, turning and weaving in pure pleasure. Although he had been riding for the past ten days, the fact that he could now mount his own horse without climbing steps made him feel independent at last.