'This issue perplexes my brother lord and myself, but it must be resolved,' he began in his deep, uncompromising voice. 'The fault is undoubtedly mainly on the side of those two manor lords Henry de la Pomeroy and Richard de Revelle, who have acted shamefully in this matter.'
There was a gush of protest from Joscelin de Sucote at this defamation of his clients, but Walter waved him back into his seat with a peremptory wave of his hand.
'To take advantage of a lady whose courageous husband was absent both on the king's business in Sicily and Cyprus and especially on the Holy Crusade, was despicable. We consider that using the patently fictitious excuse that her husband had died was a cruel falsehood based on an alleged rumour, probably circulated by the defendants themselves.'
He turned to John de Alencon, who sat next to him.
'Archdeacon, I understand that the Church has particular strictures against those who take advantage of absent Crusaders?'
De Ralegh knew this perfectly well, but wanted it voiced from an ecclesiastical throat. De Alencon was happy to oblige.
'Indeed it does. Rome is firm upon the issue, even up to withdrawal of communion from those who offend.'
'Then that may be a matter for your own consistory courts to pursue — but as far as we are concerned today, we have to make judgement on earthly grounds. There is another who bears responsibility for some of the wrongdoing, and that is John, Count of Mortain. The fact that his chaplain is here today shows that he is well aware of what has transpired. Whether he knew of it at the time, I cannot tell, but this allegation that the manor of Hempston was forfeit to him on the alleged death of its lord is a total fabrication. If it escheated to anyone, it would have been to the king.' He ignored another babble of protest from the table on his right.
'However, on the other side of the coin, there is no doubt that an affray took place when Sir Nicholas discovered that he and his family had been evicted. Whatever the truth of the matter, a man died from a blow on the head during the melee — though one might say that such a violent reaction was justified in the circumstances.' He paused and looked grimly around the court, reminding Gwyn of his own master at inquests.
'There is also the matter of the deaths at Grimspound. Again, de Arundell and his men were chased from their refuge, which was then burned to the ground — and a defenceless old woman ended up dead, in somewhat doubtful circumstances. They were then pursued by a much larger force under Pomeroy and de Revelle — and who can blame them for resisting to the best of their ability in order to save their lives, though this also ended in further killing?'
John de Wolfe, who had been inwardly rejoicing at the judges' partiality for de Arundell up to this point, suddenly had an inkling that it was not going to be a resounding verdict in his favour. What was the crafty old devil working up to, he wondered? The coroner stared at the judge's back, waiting anxiously for his next words.
'Our first Norman monarch, William of Falaise, encouraged the employment of various ordeals as a means of settling legal disputes. These ancient rites are meant to call upon the aid of the Almighty in determining who is right and who is wrong.' Walter laid a hand on the shoulder of the archdeacon and looked down at him. 'I am well aware that recently, Rome has become less than enthusiastic about the employment of such tests, and indeed I hear that there are calls for the Holy Father to ban them.'
He stared around again. 'But I believe that there is still merit in the ordeal — and what is more important, so do the people of England, who are firmly attached to them as a means of seeking justice.'
'Is the old bugger going to get Richard and Pomeroy to dip their arms into molten lead?' asked Gwyn in a hoarse whisper. 'Or run barefoot across nine red-hot ploughshares?'
De Wolfe shook his head, still intent on listening to Walter de Ralegh, for he now thought he could see where the man's mind was leading him.
'My brother justice and I have decided that this dispute must be settled once and for all, so that no one can then complain that favouritism or political interference tilted the verdict — for the aid of God himself is to be sought, which no man can question.'
The silence in the hall was almost palpable, as every ear strained to know what was going to happen.
'We decree that this dispute is narrowed down to the ownership of the manor of Hempston Arundell, the other issues of improper outlawry and the deaths of persons during armed combat being dismissed inasmuch as they are not contentious between the parties.' The heavy features of de Ralegh were turned first towards the table where de Arundell sat, hardly daring to draw breath — then across to de Revelle and Henry Pomeroy, who sat uneasily awaiting whatever was in store for them.
'We further declare that this single issue be resolved by the Ordeal of Battle, where Nicholas de Arundell will engage in combat with Henry de la Pomeroy and Richard de Revelle in succession. If he is vanquished by either, then the manor of Hempston is lost to him.' There was a shocked silence, then a hubbub broke out, both on the dais and down in the body of the court. Joan de Arundell screamed and threw her arms around her husband, howling that this was just a stratagem to have him killed. Nicholas, however, gently disengaged himself, as Gillian hastened to comfort her cousin.
He stood up, and in a loud voice accepted the challenge with all his heart, confident that right would be on his side.
On the defendants' table, Joscelin de Sucote rose to his feet and began making protests, but de Wolfe suspected that his heart was not in it — the judgement did not affect him personally, and if these Devon barbarians wanted to hack each other to pieces, then let them get on with it, he had done his best for them.
Alongside him, the barbarians in question showed very different reactions to Walter's decision. The burly, pugnacious Henry de la Pomeroy, who had fought in several campaigns and was fond of jousting and hunting, was confident that he could more than hold his own against the slighter Nicholas de Arundell, as long as there were no bowmen in the offing. Richard de Revelle, on the other hand, looked pale and shocked, his hand nervously caressing his pointed beard. De Wolfe saw him tugging at Joscelin's sleeve and gabbling urgently at him, which merely provoked the lawyer into repeated shakings of the head, as he presumably told Richard that there was nothing he could do at that point to reverse the decision of the judges.
As the chatter and catcalls from the floor grew louder, Ralph Morin signalled to Sergeant Gabriel to restore order. With stentorian shouts, buffets across the head and a few blows from their cudgels, the garrison soldiers soon calmed the audience down, allowing Walter de Ralegh to finish announcing the details of the trial by battle.
'As the disputants are all of noble birth, they shall fight with the short sword, rather than with the half-staff of the commoner,' he declared. 'Sir Nicholas, as one man against two, will have the choice as to who shall face him first. If he triumphs at the first bout, there will be an hour's respite for recovery before the second contest.' John, though worried at the outcome of this affair, grinned to himself as he saw his brother-in-law's face blanch at the prospect of facing de Arundell, whether it be at the first or second bout. But Henry de la Pomeroy was a different matter, thought de Wolfe uneasily.
'I must go up to Raden Lane and offer some comfort to Lady Joan,' fretted Matilda over the dinner table a short while later. John felt like telling her to stop fussing and to mind her own business, but he wisely held his tongue. He knew that she was well-meaning and also that she was worried herself, as her own brother, who until recently she had idolised, was going to be on the receiving end of a sword wielded by a hardened campaigner who had had his physical skills honed by a couple of years' hard living on Dartmoor.