sixpence. I shall enrol that as deodand. Is there anyone here to present Englishry on this maid? No? Then I will impose the Murdrum fine. You, Joan, must attend the court when this
affair is brought before the judges. Your master must pay sureties to my clerk here. Also, the families nearest must also be attached: Roger Avice, Bydaud de Coyntes, Master Philip Marsille, and
Henry Paffard. You are all attached to attend the court. Pay your sureties too.’
‘There! That’s all done with,’ Sir Richard said with contentment. ‘We should find a tavern and buy a little wine or ale.’
‘There is one more thing I should like to know, first,’ Baldwin said. He walked over to Paffard’s apprentice, Benjamin, as the jury and witnesses began to disperse.
‘Master, Joan said that after she found the body, you were next into the alley. Is that correct?’
‘Yes, me and our bottler, John. Joan was in a terrible state, screaming and screaming – there was nothing I could do or say that would calm her, but John managed to get her away and
into the house.’
‘I see. It was strange that she should be walking about the city so late.’
‘John sent her to buy some bread.’
Baldwin looked at the man he pointed out. John was a little older than Baldwin himself. He was not tall, and stooped, which made him look even shorter. He had thick white hair, but dark brows
that looked curiously out of place. He was dressed in a thin woollen tunic of dark brown, with a white chemise beneath. A broad black belt was bound at his waist, a purse, keys and a dagger hanging
from it.
‘You sent her?’
‘We needed bread for the servants’ meal.’
‘I see. What of Alice? Who last saw her?’
‘She was well enough that evening. She was there when the master left for the Cock with his family,’ John said.
‘All the family?’
‘Yes.’
‘What did she do after that?’
‘I don’t know. I was in the buttery, after sending Joan for the bread, and then the apprentice and I met for a mazer of ale in the yard later, and we were there when we heard
Joan’s screams.’
Baldwin nodded. A short way away, he saw Paffard. The merchant was tall, with rather gaunt features. There were lines about his face and brow, but his brown eyes looked clear and steady.
Just now he looked like a man who had been insulted. In fact, he had the demeanour of a felon who had narrowly escaped the rope, but who felt that an inquest into his behaviour was
unreasonable.
Seeing Baldwin’s eye on him, he turned abruptly and strode away.
‘What is it?’ Sir Richard asked, seeing Baldwin’s expression.
‘Probably nothing. He has lost a maid. It is a disturbing event for a man. But his manner is curious, nonetheless.’
Road east of Exeter
Ulric watched Sir Charles drop from his horse and study the land closely with one of the two archers who were always close by him. The rest of the cavalcade remained on their
horses, chatting among themselves.
He had nothing to talk about with them. Yesterday, in the church, he had seen them . . . Those scenes wouldn’t fade. The women, pulled from their children and forced to the ground while
the men took their pleasure, the children squealing in terror, men gritting their teeth and watching with despair on their faces, until one man, a tall, grey-haired fellow of perhaps fifty summers,
launched himself at the nearest guard.
The guard was a weasel-faced fellow with a cast in his eye, who had been watching the nearest woman’s torment with a grin of anticipation, and didn’t expect an attack. He fell under
a blow from a fist like a block of timber, and his dagger and sword were snatched up in an instant.
A shout, a scream as the sword was thrust in a man’s chest, then a roar of fury as the old man lunged at Sir Charles’s second archer. The man side-stepped like an acrobat, and the
sword missed him. A second guard sprang to his side, and the desperate man was forced to block both their weapons
affair is brought before the judges. Your master must pay sureties to my clerk here. Also, the families nearest must also be attached: Roger Avice, Bydaud de Coyntes, Master Philip Marsille, and
Henry Paffard. You are all attached to attend the court. Pay your sureties too.’
‘There! That’s all done with,’ Sir Richard said with contentment. ‘We should find a tavern and buy a little wine or ale.’
‘There is one more thing I should like to know, first,’ Baldwin said. He walked over to Paffard’s apprentice, Benjamin, as the jury and witnesses began to disperse.
‘Master, Joan said that after she found the body, you were next into the alley. Is that correct?’
‘Yes, me and our bottler, John. Joan was in a terrible state, screaming and screaming – there was nothing I could do or say that would calm her, but John managed to get her away and
into the house.’
‘I see. It was strange that she should be walking about the city so late.’
‘John sent her to buy some bread.’
Baldwin looked at the man he pointed out. John was a little older than Baldwin himself. He was not tall, and stooped, which made him look even shorter. He had thick white hair, but dark brows
that looked curiously out of place. He was dressed in a thin woollen tunic of dark brown, with a white chemise beneath. A broad black belt was bound at his waist, a purse, keys and a dagger hanging
from it.
‘You sent her?’
‘We needed bread for the servants’ meal.’
‘I see. What of Alice? Who last saw her?’
‘She was well enough that evening. She was there when the master left for the Cock with his family,’ John said.
‘All the family?’
‘Yes.’
‘What did she do after that?’
‘I don’t know. I was in the buttery, after sending Joan for the bread, and then the apprentice and I met for a mazer of ale in the yard later, and we were there when we heard
Joan’s screams.’
Baldwin nodded. A short way away, he saw Paffard. The merchant was tall, with rather gaunt features. There were lines about his face and brow, but his brown eyes looked clear and steady.
Just now he looked like a man who had been insulted. In fact, he had the demeanour of a felon who had narrowly escaped the rope, but who felt that an inquest into his behaviour was
unreasonable.
Seeing Baldwin’s eye on him, he turned abruptly and strode away.
‘What is it?’ Sir Richard asked, seeing Baldwin’s expression.
‘Probably nothing. He has lost a maid. It is a disturbing event for a man. But his manner is curious, nonetheless.’
Road east of Exeter
Ulric watched Sir Charles drop from his horse and study the land closely with one of the two archers who were always close by him. The rest of the cavalcade remained on their
horses, chatting among themselves.
He had nothing to talk about with them. Yesterday, in the church, he had seen them . . . Those scenes wouldn’t fade. The women, pulled from their children and forced to the ground while
the men took their pleasure, the children squealing in terror, men gritting their teeth and watching with despair on their faces, until one man, a tall, grey-haired fellow of perhaps fifty summers,
launched himself at the nearest guard.
The guard was a weasel-faced fellow with a cast in his eye, who had been watching the nearest woman’s torment with a grin of anticipation, and didn’t expect an attack. He fell under
a blow from a fist like a block of timber, and his dagger and sword were snatched up in an instant.
A shout, a scream as the sword was thrust in a man’s chest, then a roar of fury as the old man lunged at Sir Charles’s second archer. The man side-stepped like an acrobat, and the
sword missed him. A second guard sprang to his side, and the desperate man was forced to block both their weapons
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