KIRTLE
A woman’s dress, worn to the ankles, with long sleeves, though fashions changed frequently. The kirtle was worn over the chemise, the only undergarment.
LEAT
A ditch cut to drain a marsh.
MANOR REEVE
A foreman appointed in each village by the lord of a manor to oversee the daily farm work. Although illiterate, like the vast majority of the population, he would keep a record of crop rotation, harvest yields, tithes, etc., by means of memory and notches on tally-sticks.
MANTLE
A cloak, usually of square or semicircular shape, secured at the neck by a brooch-pin or ring. May have a hood for travelling.
MARK
A sum of money, though not an actual coin, as only pennies existed. A mark was two-thirds of a pound, i.e., thirteen shillings and fourpence (sixty-six decimal pence).
MIDDEN
A rubbish pit or dump, often used for sewage.
MURDRUM FINE
A fine or amercement levied on a village by the coroner when a person was found dead in suspicious circumstances and no killer could be produced, if the locals could not make ‘presentment of Englishry’ (q.v.).
ORDEAL
Though sometimes used to extract confessions, the Ordeal was an ancient ritual, abolished by the Vatican in 1215, where suspects were subjected to painful and often fatal ordeals, such as walking barefoot over nine red-hot ploughshares, picking a stone from a vat of boiling water, licking white-hot iron, etc. If they suffered no injury, they were judged innocent. Another ordeal was to be thrown bound into deep water: if they sank, they were innocent, if they floated, they were guilty and were hanged or mutilated!
PEINE FORTE ET DURE
‘Hard and severe punishment’ used for the extraction of confessions from suspects.
PORTREEVE
One of the senior burgesses in a town, elected by the others as a leader. There were usually two, later superseded by a mayor, the first mayor of Exeter being installed in 1208.
PREBENDARY
See ‘Canon’.
PRECENTOR
A senior cleric in a cathedral, responsible for organising the services and singing, etc.
PRESENTMENT OF ENGLISHRY
Following the 1066 Conquest, many Normans were killed by aggrieved Saxons, so the law decreed that anyone found dead from unnatural causes was Norman and the village was punished by a murdrum fine (q.v.) unless they could prove that the deceased was English or a foreigner. This was usually done by a male member of the family. This continued for several hundred years, as even though it became meaningless long after the Conquest, it was a good source of revenue.
REEVE
See ‘Manor Reeve’.
SENESCHAL
The senior servant or steward to a lord.
SHERIFF
A ‘shire-reeve’, the King’s representative in each county, responsible for law and order and the collection of taxes.
SUPER-TUNIC
Similar to a surcoat, but usually heavier: worn as a lighter alternative to a mantle (cloak).
SURCOAT
A garment worn over the tunic, usually shorter. It was also used to cover armour, to protect from the sun and used for heraldic recognition devices.
TABARD
A male over-garment, open at the sides and laced at the waist.
TITHE
A tenth part of the harvest, demanded by the Church.
TUNIC
The main men’s garment, pulled over the head to reach the knee or calf. A linen shirt may be worn underneath. For riding, the tunic would be slit at the sides or front and back.
UNDERCROFT
The ground floor of a fortified building. The entrance to the rest of the building was on the floor above, isolated from the undercroft, which might be partly below ground level. Removable wooden steps prevented attackers from reaching the main door.
VICAR
A priest employed by a more senior cleric, such as a prebendary or canon, to carry out his religious duties. Often called a ‘vicar-choral’ from his participation in chanted services.
WIMPLE
A linen or silk cloth worn around a lady’s neck to frame the face. The sides were pinned up above each ear and the lower edge tucked into the neckline of the kirtle or chemise.
Prologue
September 1194
The chamber was almost in darkness. The only light came through the slightly open door, from three tallow tapers burning in a candlestick in the next room. From the large bed came muffled whisperings and the sounds of increasing intimacy. A woman’s gasps of half-reluctant delight alternated with the deeper murmurings of a man intent on extracting every ounce of pleasure for himself. He remained steadfastly in control, while she became progressively more abandoned, throwing her arms wildly above the fleeces that covered them, arching her back as she sobbed, and biting back cries of desperate delight.
The carved bedstead, itself a novelty in Exeter where most folk slept either on rushes or a mattress on the floor, began to creak rhythmically, then with increased vigour and pace. Suddenly there was a duet of strangled gasps, the sheepskins heaved in a final spasm and the creaking subsided.
After a moment or two of silence, a gentle sobbing could be heard. ‘This is so wrong,’ she whispered. ‘I must never come here again … never!’
The answering voice was deep and strong, with confidence verging on arrogance. ‘You say that every time, Adele. But still you come. You need a man, a proper man.’
She sniffed back her tears. ‘If we should ever be found out – oh God, what would we do?’
He grinned in the darkness. ‘Well, I’ll not tell anyone, if you won’t!’
Then they were silent, each with their own thoughts in the guttering candlelight.
Chapter One
In which Crowner John attends a shipwreck
Silence also reigned in the narrow chamber set high in the gate-house of Rougemont Castle. It was broken only by the steady champing of Gwyn’s jaws as he finished the last of the crusty bread and cheese left over from the trio’s second breakfast. The other two members of the coroner’s team were totally silent. Thomas, the clerk, was laboriously penning a copy of yesterday’s inquest held on a forester crushed by a falling tree. The coroner himself was covertly studying the latest lesson set him by a cathedral canon, who was trying to teach him to read and write.
Sir John de Wolfe sat, silently mouthing the simple Latin phrases. With an elbow on the table, he held his hand casually across his mouth to hide the movements of his lips from the others. After twenty years as a soldier, he was sensitive about his efforts to become literate, in case it was thought effeminate. Thomas de Peyne, the unfrocked priest who was his very literate clerk, knew of his master’s ambition and was somewhat piqued that he himself had not been asked to be the tutor – though he appreciated the coroner’s sensitivity about his inability to read his own documents. Gwyn of Polruan knew little of this and cared less, as sensitivity was foreign to the nature of the red-haired Cornish giant, who acted as the coroner’s officer and bodyguard.