Cook said
with a dry smile that held no humour. He was not amused, but trying to explain to a knight how the land lay. If Baldwin was
truly in the party of an emissary of the King, it was best he was not delayed or provoked. ‘But there are some hotheads who’d
prefer to see some semblance of justice, even if they were all unimportant.’
‘No man’s life is unimportant,’ Baldwin said. ‘If I could, I would deliver the fools to you, but I have need of them to continue
to defend my Lord Bishop. Without them, we are too few.’
‘The city could present you with some replacements?’
‘What would happen to these two?’
‘They’d be held for the coroner. That will have to happen whatever may pass. You know the law. This was a slaughter on the
road. We have a duty to hold an inquest and see what the jury says.’
‘Very well. I shall inform the Bishop and see what he desires,’ Baldwin said.
Cook nodded, then gave a short grin before leaving. It was enough to make Baldwin feel a little unsettled as he walked over
the floor to the door on the opposite side. He had clearly failed to overawe Cook.
Beyond the door was a little chamber which had been set aside for the Bishop’s men. The Bishop of Orange was himself in the
prior’s hall. Baldwin had only been seated a short whilewhen an anxious-looking monk arrived with the message, asking Baldwin and Simon to go with him to the abbot’s lodgings.
‘What does he want with us?’ Simon grumbled, regretfully eyeing his jug of wine as he stood.
‘He wishes to discuss the murder, I think,’ the monk said.
It didn’t make Simon feel any better about leaving his wine.
Chapter Seven
Coroner Robert was waiting in the Prior’s hall. The Bishop sat at table, noisily dismembering a chicken and paying the prior
and coroner no attention while the prior introduced them. As Simon said to himself, though, the man hardly spoke any English.
It was no surprise that he was silent.
The Coroner of Canterbury had met enough knights and King’s officers in his time. It was his firm belief that there were only
a few different types. They all fell into one of three categories, and he was perfectly capable of recognising them all. There
were those who were set upon personal aggrandisement, seeking money at the expense of all others; those whose sole ambition
was to have power; and those, a form of reptile like the repellent Despenser, who wanted both at the same time. Coroner Robert
had no time for any of them. Yes, in his experience all men fell into one of the three, and he wondered idly into which category
these two fell.
‘You are a keeper?’ he asked of Baldwin. Hearing the response, he nodded to himself. If he had to bet, this was one of those
who sought power. Clearly the other one, the former bailiff, was after money. You could see that by looking at the two of
them. The better dressed, albeit with the stains and mess of the roads on his clothing, was the former bailiff, while the
knight was quite shabby-looking. He clearly didn’t have any care for fashion. Presumably, the former bailiff waslooking to improve his treasure so he could maintain himself in the style he enjoyed, while the knight was merely power-hungry.
Satisfied with his conclusions, the coroner felt a vague disappointment. It was a common experience for him nowadays. Everyone
could be slotted into one of the three sheaths he had seen. The King was not powerful enough to control the rampant ambitions
of his nobles, and in the free-for-all that was modern politics, everyone was out to grab what they could. Even when the coroner
had, generously, given someone the benefit of the doubt, hoping that the fellow would not fit into the sheath of greed or
power, he had, unfailingly, been disillusioned later. Now he preferred to see the worst from the first moment. It saved trouble
later.
‘You are investigating the three?’ Baldwin said. ‘I am glad to see you
with a dry smile that held no humour. He was not amused, but trying to explain to a knight how the land lay. If Baldwin was
truly in the party of an emissary of the King, it was best he was not delayed or provoked. ‘But there are some hotheads who’d
prefer to see some semblance of justice, even if they were all unimportant.’
‘No man’s life is unimportant,’ Baldwin said. ‘If I could, I would deliver the fools to you, but I have need of them to continue
to defend my Lord Bishop. Without them, we are too few.’
‘The city could present you with some replacements?’
‘What would happen to these two?’
‘They’d be held for the coroner. That will have to happen whatever may pass. You know the law. This was a slaughter on the
road. We have a duty to hold an inquest and see what the jury says.’
‘Very well. I shall inform the Bishop and see what he desires,’ Baldwin said.
Cook nodded, then gave a short grin before leaving. It was enough to make Baldwin feel a little unsettled as he walked over
the floor to the door on the opposite side. He had clearly failed to overawe Cook.
Beyond the door was a little chamber which had been set aside for the Bishop’s men. The Bishop of Orange was himself in the
prior’s hall. Baldwin had only been seated a short whilewhen an anxious-looking monk arrived with the message, asking Baldwin and Simon to go with him to the abbot’s lodgings.
‘What does he want with us?’ Simon grumbled, regretfully eyeing his jug of wine as he stood.
‘He wishes to discuss the murder, I think,’ the monk said.
It didn’t make Simon feel any better about leaving his wine.
Chapter Seven
Coroner Robert was waiting in the Prior’s hall. The Bishop sat at table, noisily dismembering a chicken and paying the prior
and coroner no attention while the prior introduced them. As Simon said to himself, though, the man hardly spoke any English.
It was no surprise that he was silent.
The Coroner of Canterbury had met enough knights and King’s officers in his time. It was his firm belief that there were only
a few different types. They all fell into one of three categories, and he was perfectly capable of recognising them all. There
were those who were set upon personal aggrandisement, seeking money at the expense of all others; those whose sole ambition
was to have power; and those, a form of reptile like the repellent Despenser, who wanted both at the same time. Coroner Robert
had no time for any of them. Yes, in his experience all men fell into one of the three, and he wondered idly into which category
these two fell.
‘You are a keeper?’ he asked of Baldwin. Hearing the response, he nodded to himself. If he had to bet, this was one of those
who sought power. Clearly the other one, the former bailiff, was after money. You could see that by looking at the two of
them. The better dressed, albeit with the stains and mess of the roads on his clothing, was the former bailiff, while the
knight was quite shabby-looking. He clearly didn’t have any care for fashion. Presumably, the former bailiff waslooking to improve his treasure so he could maintain himself in the style he enjoyed, while the knight was merely power-hungry.
Satisfied with his conclusions, the coroner felt a vague disappointment. It was a common experience for him nowadays. Everyone
could be slotted into one of the three sheaths he had seen. The King was not powerful enough to control the rampant ambitions
of his nobles, and in the free-for-all that was modern politics, everyone was out to grab what they could. Even when the coroner
had, generously, given someone the benefit of the doubt, hoping that the fellow would not fit into the sheath of greed or
power, he had, unfailingly, been disillusioned later. Now he preferred to see the worst from the first moment. It saved trouble
later.
‘You are investigating the three?’ Baldwin said. ‘I am glad to see you
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