'She marched on to the field amid the confusion and went up to her brother and slapped his face! Called him a spineless coward and said she never wanted to see him again.'
The tender-hearted Nesta sighed. 'Oh mercy, that's sad! She was always so proud of her brother when he was sheriff, though he was an evil fellow, as we all know to our cost. But I'm sorry she has been so disillusioned.'
'It will do me no good, though,' said John bitterly. 'The fact that she's fallen out with Richard will inevitably be laid at my door, as it always was in the past. Eventually she'll take delight in accusing me of being the one who got a pardon for Nicholas from the Justiciar and so led her brother into this situation with the royal judges.'
'I thought she was big friends with his wife and had broken with Richard for stealing his manor?' objected Gwyn, sitting opposite with a pig's knuckle and his third quart of ale.
'That won't stop her blaming me for his downfall. Women's minds aren't like ours, Gwyn, they can twist logic any way that suits them!' For that he suffered a sharp kick under the table from Nesta.
'If the world was run by women, it would be a much better and more peaceful place,' she announced tartly. 'All you beasts think of is war and killing and making life intolerable for ordinary folk.'
'That's not always so, though I admit there's some truth in it,' conceded John. 'Take today, Nicholas was magnanimous over his success. He could have spitted Richard on his sword or, being the victor, demanded that he be hanged — but he let him off.'
Thomas, who was hunched at the end of the table, eager to hear all the gossip, shook his head. 'That's not strictly true, Crowner, according to the traditions of 'wager of battle'.'
'Go on then, tell me, fount of all legal knowledge,' challenged John, the events of the day making him good-natured this evening.
'Yes, he could legitimately have slain him any time during the battle, but once he shouted 'craven', his life should be spared, but he would be declared outlaw.'
'Ha! There's natural justice for you,' jeered Gwyn.
'Let the punishment fit the crime. I wonder how he would fare, alone on Dartmoor?'
'But it didn't, did it?' pointed out Nesta. 'He walked away free, without hardly a scratch upon him.'
'The bastard's got a charmed life,' complained Gwyn. 'How many times is it now that he's been caught out in treason, embezzlement and theft, yet manages to slither back to his comfortable manor and a life of ease?'
John had to agree that his officer's analysis was very near the mark. 'But it will cost him dear this time, and I feel he'll keep his head well down for a very long while to come.'
'How will it cost him?' demanded Nesta, and waited for John to explain what had happened that morning.
'When de Revelle submitted, the sheriff and the two justices hurried over to see what should be done.
Nicholas at once announced that he wanted no retribution against either of his adversaries, other than full restitution of himself, his family and his men in Hempston Arundell and a sworn promise that they would never again interfere in his manor. But as part of this settlement, he wanted full compensation for all that had been taken from there during the time that de la Pomeroy and de Revelle had annexed it — all the freeholders' rents, the sales of crops, animals and wool that would have been earned by him had he been in occupancy during that period.'
Thomas's little eyes opened wide. 'That would come to a hefty sum. Can they calculate what is owed to him?'
'All the manor accounts and tallies are there, it seems. The justices, when they agreed to de Arundell's suggestion, gave the sheriff orders to have all the records seized and pored over by clerks familiar with such things — at the expense of Pomeroy and de Revelle. They have two months in which to pay up or they will be hauled back before the court, assuming Henry lives through this.'
'The shock of paying all that money may well give him another seizure,' said Gwyn with some glee.
They continued the gossiping until there was nothing left to be said about the day's excitement. Thomas slid out of the tavern, bent on visiting the cathedral for some silent prayer, and Gwyn rolled off to the castle to play dice with Sergeant Gabriel and his soldiery, diplomatically leaving his master alone with his mistress. They soon found themselves up in her little chamber in the loft and John discovered that the tensions and stresses of the day had done nothing to dampen his ardour when they made love on the wide feather mattress on the floor.
Afterwards, in the dreamy relaxation that followed, the coroner lay on his back staring up at the dark recesses of the spider-haunted roof trusses, just visible in the light from a single candle. With his arm around Nesta's shoulders, he became contemplative about the events of past weeks.
'Most of my problems have gone, thank God,' he reflected with satisfaction. 'I had begun to despair of even finding a common thread between those guildsmen killings, let alone finding the identity of the actual killer.
And now my campaign to get justice for the Arundells has at last succeeded, though it was a finely run thing at the end.'
The auburn-haired landlady nestled closer to his body as they lay under the heavy sheepskins. She could see their breath steaming in the cold air, but even naked as they were, it was warm beneath the covers.
'So what remains to disturb your peace of mind, Sir Crowner?' she asked teasingly.
'Very little — there are hardly any inquests outstanding and Thomas's rolls are up to date for presentation to the next Eyre.' He suddenly scowled up into the gloom.
'Except of course, we have not yet found Geoffrey Trove, and that bastard who assaulted my wife may already have left Devon or even England itself.'
Some time later, afraid that her lover was falling asleep, Nesta prodded him with her elbow.
'Up you get, my man. You can't stay here all night, your dear wife will need your company after such a distressing day.'
He was not sure whether Nesta was being sarcastic, but knowing of her sympathetic nature, he decided she probably meant what she said. In any event, he grumbled his way out of bed and pulled on his clothes, before collecting Brutus from his knuckle bone downstairs and setting off in the freezing evening for home.
Next day, Matilda dragged her husband off to Raden Lane to say farewell to the de Arundells, who were on the eve of leaving for Hempston. They were to meet up next day with all the men who had lived with Nicholas on the moor and were to ride en masse along the River Hems to their manor, which would be their home once again.
Nicholas, his arm in a linen sling, was effusive in his thanks to John de Wolfe and pledged his help in anything that the coroner might need in the future. Lady Joan was tearful in her thanks and, with Matilda watching benignly, even ventured to give him a parting kiss on his bristly black cheek. John wryly wondered what his wife would have said and done if any other woman had done the same in public, especially Nesta — or Hilda of Dawlish. A little cynically, he decided that it took other people's misfortunes to temper their own conflicts, then chided himself for such unkind thoughts when his wife was silently suffering from yet another humiliation caused by her brother.
They left the loving couple and returned to Martin's Lane, where after their noontide dinner Matilda pleaded exhaustion. Indeed, she looked pale and wan, so her usual climb up to her solar was earlier than usual, not even delayed by a cup of wine. John had no duties that afternoon and wandered out into the back yard to seek Mary's company in her kitchen-hut. Flurries of snow were twisting about in the east wind, but there were not enough for snow to settle on the ground. He sat on a stool next to Mary's cooking fire with Brutus at his feet and contentedly sipped from a jar of mulled ale which she had made for him. After talking for a while about the remarkable events in Rougemont the previous day, Mary asked him what would happen to Richard de Revelle now.