While standing in the yard waiting to enter the hall, Baldwin and Simon had an opportunity to share their experiences with the Coroner. When they were finished, Sir Roger cocked an eye at Baldwin.
‘I may be able to give you a little more information. When Benjamin died, it was shortly after he had called in several debts – mainly from knights. I thought Sir John, Sir Walter, or Sir Richard could have been responsible. Or the Squires William or Geoffrey. All these men were in Exeter at the time and attending the court.’
‘The murders could be unrelated,’ Baldwin said slowly.
‘You don’t believe that any more than I do.’
Baldwin turned to the Coroner. ‘How did the banker get involved? If Lord Hugh was paying for the tournament, what exactly was Benjamin’s part in it?’
‘Lord Hugh may have ordered the stands to be built, but he’d not entrust too much money to a messenger, nor would he wish to come here early just to keep an eye on the work in progress. No, he would have passed his instructions to Hal and given the architect a budget. How Hal decided to work within that budget was up to him, but Lord Hugh would only have given Hal an advance on the total owed – and Benjamin, who was a party to all this, would be expected to monitor things so that Hal wouldn’t go over his budget. Afterwards Lord Hugh would reimburse Benjamin for his share of the expenses and give him a profit as well.’
Simon continued, ‘So Benjamin would provide the ready money that Hal needed. And if Hal could construct the whole show for significantly less than Lord Hugh had budgeted, both he and his associates could pocket the difference. Lord Hugh would still pay the full amount to Benjamin as agreed.’
‘Which was why Hal was against buying more wood?’ Baldwin asked.
‘Yes,’ Simon said. ‘Hal bought in the cheapest stuff he could find so that he could cut costs. If I had to guess, I’d say that he later realised it was much worse than he had anticipated. Hal wouldn’t have wanted to have a stand collapse again, so he tried to force me to give him fresh timbers, blaming the townspeople for taking advantage of him. They didn’t, of course. He paid for cheap stuff and that was what he got. Later he went back and bought better materials when I refused to let him have it for free.’
‘So there is no incentive for a murder in that scam,’ Baldwin said slowly.
‘Unless Lord Hugh wanted to punish Wymond and Benjamin for taking advantage,’ Coroner Roger shrugged.
‘Lord Hugh wouldn’t do that,’ Simon responded.
‘Why should someone murder Wymond with his own hammer?’ Coroner Roger wanted to know.
Baldwin answered, ‘I think Wymond always carried his hammer with him. It was as important to him as a sword to a knight – it showed what he was. Where he died was up in the woods – I wondered whether he was lured there with the promise of good, fresh timber. Someone told him where he could get strong wood and save himself having to buy from the town. Then he was struck down and in the dark his killer dropped the hammer and couldn’t find it.’
Roger was thoughtful. ‘I have held the inquest. As you’d expect, there was nothing much to be learned.’
‘No. How can the local jury accuse anyone when there are so many strangers in the town?’
‘Usually all too easily, if it means getting rid of a known troublemaker,’ Simon grunted cynically.
‘I still don’t understand why his killer chose to carry him back to the tent and leave his body there,’ Coroner Roger said, frowning. ‘He could so easily have woken Hal and been discovered.’
‘Maybe he didn’t know Hal was in there?’ Simon suggested.
‘Or was it a message?’ Baldwin said, musing on the thoughts he’d had earlier.
Coroner Roger gazed at him intently. ‘Message?’
‘A sign that he must stop doing something? A sign that he could have the same happen to him?’ Baldwin guessed.
Simon scuffed a boot in the dust. ‘This rumour that he was a spy for the Despensers… could someone have learned of this and killed Wymond to stop reports being sent to them?’
‘Anything is possible,’ Baldwin said heavily. ‘But surely then the murderer would have killed Hal as well.’
Roger was grim-faced. ‘Perhaps the killer intends doing that. He may have been interrupted last night, or was too tired after Wymond’s killing. What if he means to go back tonight?’
‘That is what I was thinking,’ Baldwin said. ‘I do not want to return tomorrow and discover that Hal has died.’
Simon beckoned a watchman. ‘Get a man to go to Hal Sachevyll’s tent and guard it. Understand? Hal could be in danger from the same murderer who killed Wymond.’
‘Spies!’ Simon muttered bitterly. ‘And murder, all during the first tournament that I am responsible for.’
‘I am sure you will find it is all resolved quickly,’ Baldwin said easily.
‘When we cannot even tell who might have been near Wymond’s tent last night?’ Simon said. He caught sight of a group of knights in their silks and gorgeous robes. ‘Hah! Look there. See that man? The one with the beautiful tall wife? He is Sir Walter Basset.’
‘Yes, I have met him before,’ Baldwin said. ‘Not a pleasant man. Rough and too willing to take any comment as an insult. He likes to draw his sword.’
‘He’s also the tattiest-looking son of a whore I have ever seen,’ Simon said. ‘I saw him earlier and he could have been a villein from the poorest demesne in the land.’
‘It is difficult when you see a man out of his usual – or rather his expected – garb.’
‘Yes. He looks well as a knight, but when I saw him with Roger, he had lost all status.’
Coroner Roger agreed, but before he could speak Sir Peregrine joined them. ‘So, Sir Baldwin, are you helping with another murder?’
‘You have heard about the poor fellow?’
‘I knew of him,’ Sir Peregrine smiled grimly. ‘Lord Hugh used him a few times for similar events.’
‘Were you aware that he was a spy?’ Simon shot out.
Sir Peregrine’s smile broadened. ‘Ah, you are speculating that I may have decided that a spy was too dangerous and arranged to have him killed. Is that your concern?’
The Coroner answered. ‘We are searching for a murderer, but I for one have no desire to mingle with politics.’
‘Then you can rest your mind, Coroner,’ Sir Peregrine chuckled. His face grew more grim as he faced Baldwin. ‘I assure you that neither I nor Lord Hugh wanted him dead. Yes, Wymond and others spy for the King… ’
‘Benjamin and Hal?’ Simon asked.
‘Yes. And therein lies my problem. Their deaths could persuade King Edward that my Lord Hugh is guilty of removing the King’s own men.’
Baldwin squinted at the ground. ‘And of course the King would wonder why you should want to do that. He would assume that Lord Hugh was guilty of some – um – impropriety, to justify killing his enemies. That could be dangerous at a time like this when the whole country is close to war again.’
‘I do not deny that,’ Sir Peregrine agreed sombrely, but then he flashed a grin. ‘More to the point, the King will send new spies to replace those who have died. At least when I knew who the spies were, I could ensure that only the relevant information was given to them. Now… ’ he became introspective. ‘Now I have to uncover more, which means endless secrecy and difficulties. Lord Hugh and I were the two men who had least desire to remove Benjamin and Wymond.’
‘Do you believe him?’ Simon asked Baldwin.
The knight was watching Sir Peregrine as he stalked away to rejoin Lord Hugh. ‘Yes,’ he said at last. ‘I think that was why he came here – to let us know that he was innocent.’
‘Do you believe him?’ Coroner Roger repeated.
‘Against my better judgement,’ Baldwin said slowly, ‘I rather think I do.’
There was a general move towards the hall for the feast, and as the three men joined the throng, Baldwin saw Odo and Andrew hurry in through the gate together. Seeing Baldwin,
the herald joined them.
After introducing Coroner Roger, who had never met Odo, Baldwin asked, ‘Odo, were you at Exeter for the court?’
‘What court?’
Sir Roger smiled at Baldwin. ‘He wasn’t there. I’d have seen him.’
‘Why do you want to know?’ Odo asked.
‘First, where were you last night?’
‘Me? Here. As herald I am expected to sing and play for the guests. Then I went to my tent. My King Herald, Mark Tyler, wishes me to stay in the camp and ensure that there is no ribaldry. In truth, I think he wants me to learn how uncomfortable being a herald can be, in case I seek to take his job!’
‘What of you, Andrew?’ Baldwin asked.
‘I walked a little. I do not sleep well,’ Andrew said coldly.
‘You were alone?’
‘Of course. And now please excuse me. I have to serve my master.’
Baldwin watched him as he walked away. Then; ‘Odo, tell me, what do you know of Sir Edmund?’
‘Of Gloucester? A good, strong man, if unlucky in his loyalties and love. He had been going to marry Lady Helen, before she wed Sir Walter Basset of Cornwall. Then he lost all when Sir John captured him at a tourney. With nothing in his pocket, he fled over the sea and earned himself a new fortune.’
‘What of Sir John?’
‘Ah. He and his son are curious folk,’ Odo told him. ‘Sir John is no longer a wealthy man. He has lost much through murrain and the famine. He seeks to weld his estates to those of Lady Alice, from what she tells me. I fear that although she is his ward, she may seek to evade Squire William’s advances.’
Baldwin understood him. ‘So often a ward will not wish to wed the boy she knew as a brother,’ he said. ‘What of other knights?’
Odo murmured about the other men who were attending the tournament while they all found seats at tables. Then he had to leave them. ‘Please ask for me if you need anything more, sir, but I must go now. I have to prepare music to aid your palate.’
Sir Roger stared balefully after him as he walked away. ‘Is that man always so cocksure?’
‘Who cares? At least he has given us some information to work with,’ Baldwin said. ‘And now we must see if we can talk to this Alice, the woman who was with Geoffrey when he saw Wymond and another man.’ He looked along the table. ‘I suppose that is her, seated between Sir John and Squire William.’
Baldwin was able to speak to Lady Alice before too long. After the meal, Squire William walked over to join a group of other squires, and Sir John soon rose from his place to seek the privy.
When both were gone, Baldwin went to Alice’s side. ‘My Lady, could I speak with you for a moment?’
She was a pretty child, he thought, with large and lustrous eyes, a most appealing and kindly expression, and an aura of calmness that was more mature than seemed quite natural for her years.
‘Of course, sir.’
‘My name is Sir Baldwin.’
‘And you wish to ask me about the night that Wymond died. My husband told me you would want to talk to me.’
‘You have spoken to him?’
‘There’s no need to look so surprised, Sir Baldwin. He passes messages to me through the good herald Odo, and I reply.’
‘Then you know that I wish to find the murderer of Wymond. Geoffrey told me that you saw Wymond out near the lances.’
‘Yes. And there was a man near him, but he was behind Wymond and not distinct,’ she said.
‘You didn’t recognise him?’
‘No. I was concentrating on my husband,’ she said simply.
‘Of course. Tell me, how did you come to be a ward of Sir John?’
She sighed. ‘There was a tournament at Exeter, and my mother and brother went to watch my father’s battle as I understand it – you see, I was a tiny toddler at the time. There was a terrible accident and my father fell, struck down by accident. I am told he was popular, as some of these knights can be, and the crowds moved to the front of the stand to shout their anger at the man who had killed him. The stands were not sound enough, and the movement of the people led to the stand collapsing. My mother and baby brother were crushed.’
‘I am sorry.’
‘I have never known any different, Sir Baldwin,’ she said with a spark of defiance. ‘I have grown from childhood knowing no parents.’
‘So Sir John was your uncle, or perhaps–’
‘He is nothing!’ Her eyes flashed with rage and she was silent. Then she lifted her head proudly. ‘You do not understand, Sir Baldwin. That man, Sir John, was the knight who killed my father Sir Godwin. It was his blow that took away my father and my mother and their baby boy. I had no other family and he offered to protect me until I grew to maturity. Yet all the time I think he had his eyes fixed greedily upon my inheritance. He sought to win all that my father had left me.’
‘It would be an act of gross cynicism.’
‘It is. He hated my father – things he has said prove that. He insists that I should marry his son, and that way he will keep my family’s inheritance tied to his own. Well, I decided many years ago that I would never agree – and then I met Geoffrey. I love him. That is why we married.’
‘Sir John knows nothing of this?’
‘Nor his son. We shall declare our marriage here, as soon as Geoffrey has been knighted and before all the knights and their ladies. Sir John may try to contest the legality of the wedding, but he would find it difficult to separate us if Lord Hugh gives us his blessing.’
Baldwin nodded, considering. He had known that Alice was Sir Godwin’s daughter, but only now did her appalling position occur to him in all its horror. However, the investigation was more important than his feelings of sympathy for the girl. Right now Baldwin was confused about one point. He knew that Sir John owed money to Benjamin. If the banker had demanded his money back, Sir John could have decided to kill him – but if Wymond’s death was connected with Benjamin’s in some way, the implication was that Sir John must also have had a motive to kill the carpenter.
‘Tell me,’ he asked Alice, ‘do you know whether Sir John had any reason to dislike Wymond?’
She looked at him very directly. ‘The carpenter helped build a stage for Sir John some six years ago. It collapsed when Sir Walter forced Sir Richard Prouse against it, and Sir John blamed Wymond because the carpenter had used shoddy wood. He was making profit from my guardian by taking money to use the best materials, then buying cheap rubbish and pocketing the difference.’
‘Did Sir John have a grudge against Benjamin as well as Wymond?’
‘Oh yes. He owed him an enormous sum. And that little man, Hal – he hated him as well. He hated the lot of them. Called them every name under the sun.’
‘Sir John told me you could confirm that he came back to your tent last night and that he could not thus have murdered Wymond.’
She looked at him in surprise. ‘He came in and saw that I was well, but that was late, after I had returned from seeing Geoffrey. As a matter of fact, he woke me when he came in.’
Her face was full of innocence, but Baldwin didn’t know whether he could believe her or not. Her evidence suggested that Sir John had had enough time to commit a murder. But Baldwin had no idea when Wymond had died. Then a thought struck him. ‘You say that you saw a man with Wymond – could it have been Sir John?’
She considered. ‘Perhaps. But if it had been him, surely I would have realised?’ she added fairly.
Baldwin nodded and soon afterwards left her, to move to the table where Sir Walter sat. The Cornishman was a powerful-looking man, Baldwin thought, with dark eyes that glanced keenly about him. This was no fool, whatever one might assume about such a muscle-bound, oafish-looking fellow. Baldwin introduced himself and Sir Walter was polite in return. It was always safer for a knight to be courteous in case offence might be given.
‘It is a pleasure to meet you. I have heard much about you from Lord Hugh,’ Baldwin said. ‘You know him well?’
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br /> ‘I see him fairly often. I live between his castles of Exeter and Tiverton, so he occasionally visits me.’
‘A good lord.’
‘Yes. Honourable and generous.’
‘Yes.’ Sir Walter smiled widely. ‘Very generous.’
So Baldwin had guessed correctly. This man was more interested in obtaining a financial reward than in displaying the other aspects of knighthood. It was the modern way, he knew, but he could not help but feel it to be contemptible.
‘So shall I meet you in the lists, Sir Baldwin?’
‘I fear not, Sir Walter. I am over-ancient for lance-play.’
‘True,’ Sir Walter said without thinking. He was eyeing the quality of Baldwin’s clothing sadly, as though mourning the wealth that he would miss by not being able to capture Baldwin in the ring. ‘Still, there’ll be others, I suppose.’
‘Yes,’ Baldwin smiled. ‘I am sure you will find enough targets for your lance.’
‘I always do,’ Sir Walter yawned.
‘You have fought often?’
‘Enough. I’ve made my money from tournaments in Europe.’
‘It is an expensive pursuit.’
‘It can be,’ Sir Walter agreed. ‘But if you win often enough, the expense is left to the other man.’
‘Quite so,’ Baldwin said. ‘It is the loser who has to travel to the money-lender to have his purse robbed by those such as Benjamin Dudenay.’
‘You knew that bastard, did you? He was a godless, poxed shit, that man. Thank Christ he’s long dead.’
‘Did you know the carpenter who died – Wymond? He was an associate of Benjamin’s,’ Baldwin said mildly, but his eyes were fixed upon the other man with greater than normal keenness.
Sir Walter met his gaze with a fixed stare. ‘You think I killed them? You’re mad.’
As he spoke, his wife returned to the table. She walked with an effortless grace which Baldwin considered would suit a queen, as she approached the table where the two men sat. ‘My husband? Is all quite well?’
Sir Walter eased his shoulders and appeared to physically relax. He leaned back in his seat and grinned mirthlessly. ‘This good knight seeks to accuse me of murdering a peasant. If you want to, Sir Baldwin, carry on. No one would convict me of a crime of that nature. No, I wouldn’t worry about an accusation like that.’
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