‘Godspeed!’ Baldwin called as they approached within hailing distance, lifting his hand to show he meant no harm.
Simon kept his eye on the two bowmen. They were still standing without pointing their weapons at the three, but the bolts were fitted now, ready to be fired.
‘God’s blessings on you.’
The man who spoke was dark-faced, with raven-black hair and clear, unblinking brown eyes. His lips were bright, like those of a woman, but although they made him look young, Simon saw that he was older than he appeared at first sight. As he sat on his horse swatting the flies away, Simon could see that the man wore fine wrinkles at eyes and brow.
His accent was strong, but curious. Simon hadn’t heard it before. It was strangely guttural, quite thick.
It was clear that Baldwin had heard his accent before. The knight smiled and bowed to the man. ‘Grüss Gott. It is pleasant to hear a man from your land again. You are from the mountains?’
The man bowed with a faint smile. ‘Yes, we are from the Forest Cantons.’
‘Then believe me when I say that you need have no fear of English knights,’ Baldwin said, introducing himself and the others. ‘We are here to ask your help.’
‘You are welcome. I am called Rudolf – Rudolf von Grindelwald. Would you like a little wine?’
Soon the three were dismounted, and they took their seats outside the little encampment on a group of rocks. The two men with crossbows removed their bolts and carefully released the tension in the bows, while the others set their own weapons to rest on carts, although none of them let them far from their hands, Baldwin noticed. He would not have expected them to.
The woman who came to serve them as guests of the leader of the travellers was a buxom creature in her late thirties, with hair pulled back and tied in a bun. Her limbs were long and elegant, her hips broad and swaying, her waist narrow. Her face was long, somewhat oval, with prominent cheekbones and full lips. Not beautiful, she was nonetheless extremely attractive, with the slow, economic movements of a dancer, and Baldwin thought her great blue eyes calming. She wore a long tunic, but at the hem and on her apron there were a multitude of tiny embroidered flowers. When Baldwin looked up at her, she smiled with her eyes, although not her mouth; it gave her a soothing expression that could calm a man’s nights for the whole of his life, he thought.
‘What do you do?’ Baldwin asked.
‘We have been attending fairs. We sing and dance to amuse. Many men call us to their halls for entertainments,’ Rudolf lied. It was untrue, but the sort of thing that these men would believe.
He could kick himself. If only they had ditched the rest of their things. Welf had only returned a short while ago, and the pony he had brought was scarcely able to carry half the load which they had on the cart, so they might as well have carried on the day before. By now they could be lost in the streets of Ashburton, far from an enquiry. Instead here they were, being questioned by three grim-faced officials.
Not least of his troubles was the youngster hidden away. The boy could prove to be more than a mere embarrassment.
‘There are few halls about here,’ Simon observed.
‘Ja, but we are tired. We have sung our way across France and now England. We were about to travel to York, but then we heard of the King raising his army, and we thought we would be more comfortable away from a war.’
‘Many would go with the armies,’ Simon said. ‘There is good money in entertaining men-at-arms.’
Rudolf smiled. ‘There is better money in a lord’s hall, and the food is better. Also the company.’
Baldwin gave a short nod of understanding. He motioned towards the women. ‘And a King’s Host is not the place for women – except those of a certain kind.’
‘Ja! I would not place my wife and children in danger.’
Eyeing him, Baldwin doubted whether this Swiss was actually worried. There was a hardness and competence about him, like that of a trained fighter. ‘We are trying to learn about a man’s murder.’
Rudolf appeared uninterested. ‘What has this to do with me?’
‘We wished to hear whether you had seen this man,’ Baldwin said, and described Walwynus, explaining about his final journey and the discovery of his body. Watching the Swiss closely, he was sure that Rudolf knew of Walwynus. His eyes had been fixed on Baldwin with a curiously intense concentration, but as soon as he realised that Baldwin was observing him closely, his gaze began to wander, first to Simon and the Coroner, then to the men walking about his camp, as though there was nothing in this to hold his attention.
‘No,’ he said. ‘I do not know of this man. I have seen so many miners here. They seem to be everywhere, and they leave the land like this.’ He encompassed the ruined plain with a hand. ‘You say he was here before last Thursday. We were here then, but many men came past here.’
‘There was a coining at Tavistock. All the miners would have gone,’ Simon said.
‘Are you sure you didn’t see this man?’ Baldwin pressed him. ‘He carried a leather satchel with him.’
‘I saw several men, but no one who was alone,’ Rudolf said.
The woman approached with a large loaf broken into pieces on a tray and a large metal pot of soup fresh from the fire. Placing bowls near the men, she passed bread to them, and one of the children brought a jug of good wine. The woman poured and gave each of them a cup, listening to the men as she did so.
When she reached Simon, he looked up to thank her, and saw that her attention was not on him. She was carefully absorbing the conversation between Baldwin and Rudolf, as though making sure Rudolf didn’t slip up. She reminded him of a woman he had once seen at a court, listening to her man tell his story at a trial of felony. Later Simon had learned that she and her lover had concocted a story between them, rehearsing it together, to give each other alibis. The jury didn’t believe them and the man had been hanged.
That sudden insight made Simon wary. He glanced over at the other men in the camp, and was relieved to see that they didn’t appear to be ready to launch themselves at the three, but he couldn’t shake off the sense of impending danger. Shifting slightly on his rock, which had suddenly grown uncomfortable, he repositioned his sword, moving the scabbard so that he could grasp the hilt more easily.
She saw his movement, and for a moment he saw naked fear in her eyes. It was fleeting, but he hadn’t missed it, and although he smiled up at her and questioningly held out his cup to be refilled, he saw that he hadn’t eased her anxiety. Her eyes went back to Baldwin with a kind of nervous exhilaration, as though fearful of what she might hear.
The Swiss picked up his cup of wine and took a good drink, glancing at Anna as he did so. She was all but petrified, and he smiled at her reassuringly, pleased to see that she appeared to be soothed by his easy confidence.
Baldwin stared up at the hills. ‘You know, I never visited the Forest Cantons. I hear that they are beautiful.’
Simon added, ‘And I have heard that the metalwork is excellent.’
Rudolf felt his stomach lurch. Behind him he heard a slithering noise, and he turned to scowl at Henry. His son shamefacedly allowed the bow to uncock, setting it aside. Turning back to face Simon, Rudolf stared at him coolly. ‘What of it?’
‘Nothing. I was only passing a comment. You have many pewterers in your country?’